Naming emotions...

I had wanted this month's (April's) grocery spending to be super low, like in February, but I clearly over compensated for my upsettedness today.  And, having been chicken deprived, I bought enough chicken for all of Indiana.  More bourbon, too.

Becky talked with me on the phone before my appointment, all the while working on clearing out stuff from her basement.  I'm proud of her.  Plus, I am grateful for the mercy of having the time between waking and arriving at the doctor's office filled with her industriousness rather than just how upset I am over losing my GP.  Since she was being all industrious, I did go ahead and use the BMV app to pay for my annual car registration that is due in just a few days.  Other than that, all I did was ready myself for my appointment.

One of things I am loathe to admit is that a few years ago, in a moment of dire upsettedness, I executed retail therapy by searching for and finding something GREEN to acquire.  I found the perfect bag to take to my appointments, a bag to hold my lab reports and formulary and anxiety squishy thing and kleenex and past records and a notebook.  I found this solid leather GREEN professional tote for a relatively mere pittance.  I bid on it, won it for $22, paid for it, unpacked it when it arrived, and promptly hung it up in the "bag" place.  This is the place where I hang my tapestry lunch tote, my tapestry shopping tote, my hospital go bag, and (now) my nice purse that I just use when I go to the symphony.

I hung it up and then promptly forgot that I had this really fantastic GREEN tote for medical appointments.  SIGH.

Today, I went to see if the tapestry shopping tote would be smaller than the African Kenyan bags that I have been taking with me.  Those rather awesome handmade jute bags have round bottoms and things can get lost in them.  Imagine my surprise when I saw the GREEN professional tote hanging below the tapesty shopping tote.  I had never actually looked at the back of the parlor door that has all those wonderful hooks when getting my nice purse for the symphony, just reached around it.  This morning, I actually looked.

GREEN bliss.

I was right, though, about it.  It really was/is the PERFECT tote/bag to carry what I need for my appointments in a light and thin profile.  Plus, since I keep my medications and discussion points on an app on my phone, I was able to slip the phone in that little pocket on the outside as a reminder to go over what refills I needed and the update notes.

The bottom of the bag is hidden by the blanket, otherwise you would see that the phone can slip in the pocket fully and be protected, yet remain in view.  The 9x12 Avery Job Ticket Holders that were and remain a chief organizational tool for me fit neatly inside.  The 2015 formulary book does, too.  I use the job holders to separate specific paperwork, such as my lab reports, yet allow me to visually see what's what.  Hence, I was happy at the discovery.  I also felt stupid that this perfect GREEN tote has been gathering dust for eons.

The power of GREEN carried me my into the exam room before the tears started falling.  I was able to calm down at times and talk, but I was overwhelmed at the loss of a doctor who has allowed me to use off-label drugs and remain on medication that she does not see the need for me to take, but agrees that they help me, such as the acarbose.

I was right. I figured my doctor was leaving either because her husband got a transfer or because she wanted to be nearer to her family.  It is the latter.  Who can be against being nearer to family when family is loving and kind and missing you greatly?  Still, I cannot commute to Minnesota for medical care.

She listened.  She listened to me today very deliberately, and not even noted the length of the appointment.  She told me that she knew this would be hard for me.  She listened to my fears that I will not find a doctor who is flexible enough on medications and not inhibited by my complex medical history (malaria and TB in particular really freak out medical personnel).  She listened and then asked me about how I was doing mentally and I was more open and frank than I have ever been. It was ... good ... to hear her say how much she believes I have gotten better, even though I still struggle.  She listened and, very much to my surprised, agreed that it would be okay to nudge up the thyroid mediation a smidgeon to see if that helped with the hair loss and dry skin and bleeding and weight gain.  She listened and told me that she would talk with whomever I chose to try as a new doctor.

I wanted so badly to see her again before she leaves.  But every single minute between now and April 30th is full, including many of her lunches.  She has a few patients, like me, that she plans on staying late to help.

I sobbed my way out the door, into the elevator, across the parking lot, and into my car.  I sobbed and called Becky, who listened to me.  I think that, perhaps, I did the best job ever at speaking my emotions:  sad, grieving, hopeless, and afraid.  There was/is the tiniest part of my brain that is proud of being able to articulate that to Becky.

Even though my legs were wobbly and my face wet, I continued with my plan to pick up the prescriptions I needed at both pharmacies, fetch some groceries, and get Taco Bell on the way home, thanks to a new gift card.  I sat in the parking lot of Target for a while trying to compose myself. I wanted to not be all upset with the pharmacist who is so helpful with me.  She was rather compassionate about losing my doctor and promised to do all she could to communicate my prescription needs.

That was merciful.

At Walmart, I wept my way through the store and didn't care who saw me.  Part way through piling up the chicken in my cart, my sister called and distracted me with her disturbing news.  What do you do when you have ruptured discs in your neck and the neurosurgeon describes the danger of not having surgery and then the danger of having surgery?  At least my medical visit was not as distressing as hers.

I am fairly certain that I bought too much chicken.  I am somewhat chagrinned about it and somewhat comforted by having all that new chicken so that I can now cook up the chicken that is currently in in my freezer.  Chicken with Bourbon Mustard Sauce will be first up, then a new recipe.

The fancy grocery store is between my doctor's office and the pharmacies, so I stopped there to see if they carried rice wine.  They did.  Somehow, I also walked out the door with fancy cheese from Denmark, summer sausage, and not one but two loaves of Asiago sourdough bread.  I blame my post-last-GP-visit fugue state.

All in all, I spent $111 thus far.  I should only need milk, cucumber, lettuce, and broccoli or asparagus for the rest of the month.  Part of that $111 is comfort food that should last into next month as well.  You see, the most wickedest of groceries that I will sometimes purchase is a box of Red Barron's single serve deep dish pepperoni pizza.  I don't even like pepperoni pizza, but I sure do like those.  At $2.98 for a box of two, I do not find them to be un-economical at all.  I will not, however, at this time admit the number of boxes that made their way into my shopping cart.

We will not be discussing chicken or pizza in quantity at all.

My pharmacist suggested, when she gave me the new thyroid prescription, that I start taking it apart from all my other medications and on an empty stomach.  She said that since the thyroid can be so persnickety, given all that I am taking, it might be best to let the thyroid medication be in my stomach be the only thing.  I loved her idea, but wondered how I could manage that.  Really, the best time would be to take it when I am changing ice packs in the middle of the night.  But how would I know that I have taken it??  I decided I needed a separate medication box for that one.

Wow!  How cool is it that I did not donate this one that someone gave me because it is GREEN when thought that I would never have need for it since all my meds wouldn't fit in those tiny boxes?  I dislike having things on the kitchen counter, but I suppose I must.  For me to be successful at taking my medication, I need to keep it in sight.  I wonder if I could keep the thyroid medication in the freezer next to the icepacks?  

By the way, if you were wondering about that package that I thought might be chicken in the basement freezer, it was root vegetables for stock making.  Soon, I will need them.  Today, I carted down the broccoli and asparagus stems that I kept from my veggie "meals" over the past two weeks.

Amos is down for the count, having exhausted himself with worry the whole time I was gone.  He's currently sleeping on four of his babies.  Poor little pup.  I'll be down for the count, too, soon.  I am weary in mind and body and soul.