Wuthering Hyders

I've Fooled Them!

The doctors, that is. At my follow-up appointment today, the doc made me take the depression test again and it says I'm normal now. Somehow, I managed to keep a straight face when he told me that. He doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor anyway. Granted, depression isn't exactly funny in and of itself, but if I can laugh about it then you think he should be able to at least force a smile. He hasn't really seemed like a good fit for me as a regular physician from the beginning. ( Guess that's what I get for letting proximity be the deciding factor in my choice of doctors. ) He's kind of bossy and he's a little TOO gentle when he has to touch me for things like listening to my chest or taking my pulse. A gentle, yet firm touch is fine, but when it feels more like a caress it's creepy. At least from my doctor. I mentioned today that we are moving to Ankeny before my next follow-up and he said I could transfer my file up to the clinic there. I think that's a great idea!

So what does "normal" mean anyway? I suppose the criteria doctors use is different than the criteria I use. ( Obviously. ) They seem to figure that as long as I don't have thoughts of hurting myself or anyone else and I sleep through the night that I'm normal. Okay, I fudged a bit about sleeping through the night. I still wake up a lot, but at least I fall back to sleep easier than before I was on the meds. As for thoughts about hurting myself or others... I may imagine Tow Truck Guy's trucks getting washed away in a flood of rampaging wildebeests, but does that really count? It's kind of unlikely that I'll ever be able to actually obtain a flood of wildebeests, much less a rampaging one.

You see? I'm not really normal. I quite glad I'm not. In some weird way, I believe that the years battling depression have greatly improved my wit and sarcasm. I can't promise I won't go all "Arsenic and Old Lace" in the end, but at least I'll have an interesting time getting there. I really think that if everything in my life were perfect that I would be a terribly dull person. I would be just like all of those other "normal" people out there who put on their happy masks and act as if they have it all together even though they are quietly dying on the inside from sheer boredom of their own personalities. I've been told so many negative things about the way I live my life and some of them may very well be true. I'm not very organized and I'm terrible at keeping house, but at least my kids are happy. I'd much rather teach them to enjoy painting or dance with them in the rain than fold laundry or dust. So what if I hate wearing shoes? I don't think you should have to wear shoes everywhere anyway if you have reasonably tidy feet. And my compulsion to rinse everything three times? It certainly doesn't hurt anything.

The verdict, for now, is that I stay on my meds and go back in six months. I'm going to miss all of the free samples the doc gave me, though. He finally wrote the prescription and the forty-five dollar price tag was NOT a pleasant surprise. It seems to me the antidepressants should be free, or at least cheaply priced. I probably WOULD have thoughts of hurting myself or someone else if it weren't for our insurance coverage on part of the bill! What a price to pay just to be "normal"!