Friday, October 06, 2006

"Where are you going?"

Psychiatry sucks.

Every time I go to the doctor who gives me the medications I think that I'm going to come away with some new solution. I've been forgetting things; give me my memory back. My heart is heavy; lighten it. I feel impending doom; make me at ease.

I want the miracle cure and I want it now. But nothing happens.

The doctor asks me a bunch of questions about how I'm feeling:
on a scale of one to ten how depressed are you?
on a scale of one to ten where do you think you've been most of your adult life?
are you more anxious?
less anxious?
more depressed?
less depressed?
compared to before you started this drug?
compared to before you started that drug?

I am having a short term amnesia problem. Most of these questions are very difficult for me to answer. "I don't know. I don't know. It's hard to say, I don't remember."
"I started them at the same time, in the hospital, so I don't know," I answer.
"Damn it. There's no way of knowing." This is what I like about my doctor--he dresses well and he swears.
"Can you give me an example of the forgetting?"
I try to remember one and come up with this:
"Like, Justin had a week off, which was miraculous, and he and I were unpacking the office which we still haven't really finished, and apparently he was wearing pants all day, and then he was wearing shorts. And then I started to talk about how hot I was, and he said, 'Olaina, we just had this conversation. Remember? I was wearing pants?' But I didn't remember it at all."
Somehow I had forgotten the most recent example, I turned on the wrong street to get to his office, had spent most of the day reminding myself I had an appointment with him, and then when I got to the parking garage I drove right past the ticket spitter-outer (what's the word... dispenser!) and up to the kiosk and the woman said, 'You just drove right past it.' I was looking at her blankly I didn't know why she didn't want to see my military ID card, nor why I didn't have it out, all I knew was I mostly drive up to the people to get into places. 'Oh, sorry,' I said. 'I'll get it for you,' she said, and walked back to the... (look up to see what that word was) dispenser... and gave me the ticket and lifted the gate-thingy.

Then, after he told me his solution for the month--change nothing--and went to sit at his desk instead of staying in his counseling chair, I got up from the couch (no, I wasn't lying down, I always sit) and opened the door to leave.

"Where are you going?" he said.

For a minute I thought he really wanted to know my plans for the rest of the day. I just looked at him like, "I'm leaving, duh. We're done aren't we?"

Then it clicked, "Oh yeah," I said and closed the door. He was looking at his calendar to schedule my next appointment. I sat back down and said, "That would be an example..."

"Of (I forget the word he used, what's the word for when you're not paying att....) inattentiveness?"


Then I went to the parking garage and couldn't find my car. I knew I had the best parking spot I'd ever had and that I didn't have to go down more than one ramp to get it, but I couldn't remember how to get there. I started pushing the lock button so that I could maybe hear it calling me, and I did, but I realized I had heard the noise coming from the wrong direction when I got down there (three ramps down). I almost started crying. But I just started walking back up and pushing the button, hoping it would get louder and louder, and it did.

So now I'm here.

Where am I going?

No where fast, I guess.

1 comment:

OakMonster said...

On the bright side, you remember to put on your pants. ;-)

*HUGS* I miss you!