Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

After the last post aired I had quite a few people get in touch with me to make sure I'm okay.  I want to say thanks.  It's really lovely to know that I have so many people in my life that care. My first appointment with the new psychiatrist (the old one's boss) was bumped back a week, then had to happen over the phone.  By the time it took place, I had (given my GP's carefree attitude to prescriptions) been stable on my medication for about a month and a half.  I did manage to get the 24hr blood test the old psychiatrist demanded, and because I'd successfully gotten my meds I was able to undergo the test under controlled circumstances to prove that my blood pressure is manageable while medicated.  It is.  I'm fine. The call was painless.  He had my notes, but had a few questions.  I answered them as calmly as possible, carefully not going into too much detail about my dissatisfaction with the old doctor.  He did delve into that area himself a little, which

It's taken me a while to sit down to write this, the previous drama happened on the Friday afternoon before my kids were off school for a week.  It was... busy. After my last post, which was partly to share and partly because if I don't record details in the moment they get lost forever to the ether in my brain, I spent the evening in helpless tears.  This unnerved Himself to the point that he offered to try and call someone on my behalf.  Anyone who knows Himself knows that he hates making phone calls, to the point that when we first got together he made me place all takeaway orders.  *lol*  He has graduated to calling the local Indian, but he's still not a fan. Of course, there was nobody he could call that I couldn't have called (or had already called) myself, and I don't know if anyone would have even spoken to him in the first place.  The offer was still appreciated. The weekend passed, and I continued to take my pills in the hope that I'd find a solu

This afternoon, I had a meeting with my now-ex psychiatrist.  That should give you a hint about how well it went. On our last visit, in the context of an update on my life and what I'd been dealing with since we last met, I repeated something to her that my husband said to me in an argument.  On that basis, she changed my meds from one I was doing really well on to one that made me want to throw myself under a bus.  Literally.  After a couple of days on the new medication, I was more than aware that all was not well and started attempting to speak to my doctor.  Four days later, I finally got a response from her.  At this point, I had already stopped taking the meds that made me want to crawl into a hole and stay there.  She agreed to put me back on the meds I hadn't wanted to stop taking in the first place, but it took her almost a week to get the prescription to me. Unmedicated me is not fun.  Unmedicated me bounces off walls, is uncontrollably impulsive, and is physicall