associated in random thought

the wonder of pharmaceuticals.

life has taken a turn for the brighter and clearer over the past several days. helen is home from work for the timebeing, which ellicits nothing short of joy every morning. her head is noticeably better, and her energy is coming back. she laughs as only my helen can laugh, and the relief of her laughter makes me dizzy with joy.

her wellbeing has bled into my wellbeing. i've been productive every day recently: i've cleaned and organized and caught up on bills. i've taken pictures, visited with friends. i have felt myself.

meanwhile, i've also been experimenting with the drugs that keep my brain working "normally". i have a stash of risperdal that i have taken from time to time as an augmenter to my antidepressant, and augment it does. so much so that i joined the gym at work. we have a fabulous onsite facility that is very inexpensive and convenient. and i happen to weigh too much anymore. so, cheers to health and fitness, right?

yesterday, i drove over to apple for my pre-membership mini-checkup, where they basically check your vitals and medical history to make sure you're fit enough for fitness. i figured i'd pass without incident. and so, as the girl in khaki shorts and new balance shoes took my blood pressure and pulse, i relaxed, and admired the array of apple computers all over the room.

"were you just running or something?" new balance asked. um, no. "i only ask because your heart rate is at about 120, which, as you know, is not healthy for a 27 year old, even one like you, who smokes. are you taking any medications that could cause your heart to race like this?"

shit. risperdal. sweet, sweet risperdal. it must be, i thought. oh, but maybe not. maybe i was simply nervous when she was taking my pulse. i willed my heart to be still. i begged her to take it again. "yeah, it's at 125 now," she remarked, fingers still tapped against my wrist.

three hours later, i sat in the waiting room of my doctor's office, heart racing. obviously. sonia, the nurse, was also running reception, and as i tried in vain to concentrate on a novel i'd brought with me, i listened to her talk to a coughing and wheezing woman who was signing in. "oh, ms so-and-so, i remember about your heartrate being faster than i'd thought it would be." wheezing woman: "my heart? what?"
"oh don't worry about it, ma'am. we'll figure out what is going on. now have a seat and i'll call your name shortly." then she called mine.

as i stood on the scale (for the THIRD time in one day), sonia lugged the big weight over to 150, and was inching the little one past 10, 15---. "so ms annie, i understand you've got sores all over your tongue today. don't worry, though. we'll figure out what's going on."

"actually, i'm the one with the heart. the tongue is still in the waiting room." (i had to tell her.)
she gasped. giggled. and then ushered me to the waiting room, where i sat for a half hour.

waiting rooms. what joy they bring. and by joy, i mean fear. i could feel my heart in my temples now. "you've got the resting heart rate of a hummingbird," helen said before dropping me off at the doctor. but what if i've got the heart rate of my father? what if this is what he felt like before he died? before the heart attack? what if i die of this? isn't a heart attack at 27 a little...embarrassing?

of course, i only spent 5 minutes with my doctor, as she poked around with lights and sticks, and i took breaths and said ah. she pulled out her palm pilot full of "every medical piece of information known to man", and typed in r i s p e r d a l. "yep. heart palpitations. i want you to stop taking this drug. and call me tomorrow morning with your pulse. if it's under 90, you're fine." but what if i'm not fine? of course a girl will think of her mortality while sitting on the examining table.

in the nurturing voice only a female, former naval doctor can master, she gave me the news: "now, if you were 85, your heart could probably withstand this for about a day or so. then it would probably kill you. but. the good news is you're young. your heart could go on like this for a couple of weeks, and still be fine. think of it as a cardio workout without doing anything." then she shook my hand. i followed her out of the room. followed up with sonia at the receptionist's desk.

today, i am happy to report that i am not dead, nor is my heart beating 120 beats a minute. in fact, it's down to a solid 88. i've been risperdal free for over 36 hours now, and i don't feel any noticeable side effects, aside from the slower heart. i've still got energy. i still have the motivation to go lose my girl scout cookie weight. the best part is: i don't think it was the risperdal that was overcoming my wintery despair. i think i simply opened my eyes for a moment to how alive i am at 27. how alive helen is at 28. i am consciously aware of my own heart for the first time since--well. for the first time ever. there she goes, beat beat beat. a little slower a little slower. good girl. i'm proud of her for being such a champ.

Posted by bananie at March 15, 2006 3:48 PM | TrackBack