So there I was...surrounded by ninjas...would you beleive, a group of angry girl scouts? OK, I'm just lazy. I try not to use this space as my "personal" blog. Meaning, I don't come on here and spill my guts about political issues, human injustice, the price of gasoline, how the Bolshevic Revolution was neith Bolshovic nor a revolution, etc.
So you can by my lack of posts that things are well. This is usually the part of the year where I have the most issues. I'm thinking, at this point, its the drugs. This is by far the longest I've ever taken anything. At the time of this writting (man that sounds professional) I've been "on the sauce" for 11 months give or take a panic attack and a couple missed doses. Heretofore (oh yeah, I said it) my longest stint was 6 months.
I'm not 100% certain why I quit taking it before. I think I saw it as a sign of weakness. As I mentioned in some of the last posts, I used to think medication was the domain of the weak. That for some reason if I was taking drugs it meant I wasn't truly better.
Well, to that, I say...duh! I'm not better. At least, not without the drugs. But, I am better with the drugs. I still have my moments. For example, this morning on the elliptical I got worried about what I swore was a "odd rhythm" in my heartbeat. Then I had a "breathing thing" that I couldn't explain if I wanted to. And believe me, I want to.
But, the key there was that it didn't freak me out for long. Miracles of modern medicine. If it wasn't for incorrectly amputated limbs and phen phen, I might think they were on to something.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Save me Elrond Hubbard, save me Tom Cruise!!!
I usually think of about 13 things during the day that I want to blog about. unfortunately, I usually forget them within about 8 seconds. I'm sure if I thought about this long enough I'd convince myself that this was a early-onset Alzheimer's or some rare "brain cloud". Fortunately, I've just been too busy.
I did get to go back "home" this weekend with the wife and kid. This, as you may remember, was the site of my last complete melt down. This was Christmas morning this past year. I still think it had to do with a medication change but, I always fell extra anxious when I travel. Not sure what that's about.
Its also worth noting that my wife has anxiety problems. Hers mostly focus on new people or places. It got me thinking about two things. The first being the perception of what an "anxiety issue" is. It used to be called "nerves" or "the vapors" (please, note, "the vapors" is pronounced "tha vahpahhhs" in your best southern drawl). I remember as a child how I was considered "hyperactive". Of course, now that's ADD and I'd be drugged up for it.
That got me to thinking about "better living through chemistry". I'm not a big fan of taking drugs (the legal ones) without good cause. I've done my best to limit my need for drugs to the smallest dose for the shortest time. Obviously it doesn't work all the time (I take 3 drugs a day) but its a goal. I started thinking about how I and many others frown on the idea that everyone has to be happy.
This is the idea that people get depressed and you (we) should just deal with it. I used to believe this. I used to believe (much like Our Lord and Saviour Tom Cruise) that people who took drugs like Prozac were just weak. That people who took Lipitor and BP medication just weren't willing to commit to exercise and a better diet.
My the difference a few "heart attacks" and "strokes", or at least, imagined ones, makes. I've now started to realize the fault in that logic. The fault is that its actually the reverse. What is so wrong with being happier than we were made? If we could take a pill that made us happy all day everyday, even when things went bad, what's wrong with that? If I can take a pill that keeps me from dying of a massive heart attack at 40 (here's hoping) instead of having to eat right and exercise, what's wrong with that, too?
This of course ignores the financial implications of pharmaceuticals but that's a topic for a different post. The point here is that I've come to see nothing inherently wrong with taking 2 pills a day, every day, for the rest of my life. Especially if those pills provide a long and happy life.
It just occurred to me that I can rename my medication. I take one pill to have a long life, and another to make it happy. Seems like the two should be inseparable.
I did get to go back "home" this weekend with the wife and kid. This, as you may remember, was the site of my last complete melt down. This was Christmas morning this past year. I still think it had to do with a medication change but, I always fell extra anxious when I travel. Not sure what that's about.
Its also worth noting that my wife has anxiety problems. Hers mostly focus on new people or places. It got me thinking about two things. The first being the perception of what an "anxiety issue" is. It used to be called "nerves" or "the vapors" (please, note, "the vapors" is pronounced "tha vahpahhhs" in your best southern drawl). I remember as a child how I was considered "hyperactive". Of course, now that's ADD and I'd be drugged up for it.
That got me to thinking about "better living through chemistry". I'm not a big fan of taking drugs (the legal ones) without good cause. I've done my best to limit my need for drugs to the smallest dose for the shortest time. Obviously it doesn't work all the time (I take 3 drugs a day) but its a goal. I started thinking about how I and many others frown on the idea that everyone has to be happy.
This is the idea that people get depressed and you (we) should just deal with it. I used to believe this. I used to believe (much like Our Lord and Saviour Tom Cruise) that people who took drugs like Prozac were just weak. That people who took Lipitor and BP medication just weren't willing to commit to exercise and a better diet.
My the difference a few "heart attacks" and "strokes", or at least, imagined ones, makes. I've now started to realize the fault in that logic. The fault is that its actually the reverse. What is so wrong with being happier than we were made? If we could take a pill that made us happy all day everyday, even when things went bad, what's wrong with that? If I can take a pill that keeps me from dying of a massive heart attack at 40 (here's hoping) instead of having to eat right and exercise, what's wrong with that, too?
This of course ignores the financial implications of pharmaceuticals but that's a topic for a different post. The point here is that I've come to see nothing inherently wrong with taking 2 pills a day, every day, for the rest of my life. Especially if those pills provide a long and happy life.
It just occurred to me that I can rename my medication. I take one pill to have a long life, and another to make it happy. Seems like the two should be inseparable.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Stop trying to help!!!
I rode (road? roaded? roden?) in my first two actual competitive bike races this weekend. The first day I didn't finish due to an unfortunate incident that occured in front of me (read pile-up). Today, I finished. I really felt great all day including after the finish (except for somehow wrecking into the hay bails AFTER the race was over).
Anywho, everything was great until I get back to where my wife and son were waiting. And my wife says "I think you're starting to get a nose bleed". OK. This is bad. Not uncommon necessarily. I've had nose bleeds since I was a child. My doctor said something about the blood vessels in my nose yada yada. I actually believe that one.
However, in my mind I think "excersize = high blood pressure = nose bleed". This is bad enough but, normally, I can shake this thought. Then here it comes. The wife says, "Did you take your blood pressure medicine?".
Ouch.
No, I didn't. This is not uncommon. I will usually wait until after my morning excercize before I take my pills. But this time, it struck a chord. All the standard sorts of what-if questions start running through my mind. I think I've mentioned them enough to not have to recount them here.
It was innocous enough statement from the wife. I'm sure she assumed her explanation would help me feel better. This is sort of like when you have a cough and the doctor says it could be pneumonia or cancer (gee what's that like).
I think I've managed to get by it at this point with minimal freakage, pulse checking, etc. Of course, the blood pressure machine at the grocery store was calling my name but that's not abnormal.
Well, another day, another crisis averted. Come back next time, same nut time, same nut channel.
Anywho, everything was great until I get back to where my wife and son were waiting. And my wife says "I think you're starting to get a nose bleed". OK. This is bad. Not uncommon necessarily. I've had nose bleeds since I was a child. My doctor said something about the blood vessels in my nose yada yada. I actually believe that one.
However, in my mind I think "excersize = high blood pressure = nose bleed". This is bad enough but, normally, I can shake this thought. Then here it comes. The wife says, "Did you take your blood pressure medicine?".
Ouch.
No, I didn't. This is not uncommon. I will usually wait until after my morning excercize before I take my pills. But this time, it struck a chord. All the standard sorts of what-if questions start running through my mind. I think I've mentioned them enough to not have to recount them here.
It was innocous enough statement from the wife. I'm sure she assumed her explanation would help me feel better. This is sort of like when you have a cough and the doctor says it could be pneumonia or cancer (gee what's that like).
I think I've managed to get by it at this point with minimal freakage, pulse checking, etc. Of course, the blood pressure machine at the grocery store was calling my name but that's not abnormal.
Well, another day, another crisis averted. Come back next time, same nut time, same nut channel.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Ouch
I rode 100 miles today. 100.7, to be exact. it was sort of a personal goal. It took something like 5.5 hours to do it. There's something I've always noticed about riding. Its very much the same feeling I get when I'm meditating. I couldn't for the life of me tell you what I thought about, alone, for 5.5 hours. Believe it or not I only thought about fire ants and heart attacks maybe once in 5 hours.
This brings to mind the saying "Idle hands are the devil's workshop." Maybe idle minds are anxiety's workshop. It seems common sense that if you're busy doing something else, you don't have time to worry. Sounds simple enough. The problem is, you're not always doing "somthing". As a matter of fact, many times, I'm doing absolutely nothing. Therein lies a problem.
Its getting cold again. This is my season for "non-reason", of you will (yeah, I know, not one of my better turns of phrase). October is usually when I start the downward slide that, usually, ends sometime in the spring. I've theorized that it was lack of sun or lack of exercise or who knows what. In reality I guess I'm just bored.
This year I'll try to stay a little more busy. It will be hard. Sometimes the mind just needs to relax. Maybe meditation can fill the need there. I'll keep you posted.
This brings to mind the saying "Idle hands are the devil's workshop." Maybe idle minds are anxiety's workshop. It seems common sense that if you're busy doing something else, you don't have time to worry. Sounds simple enough. The problem is, you're not always doing "somthing". As a matter of fact, many times, I'm doing absolutely nothing. Therein lies a problem.
Its getting cold again. This is my season for "non-reason", of you will (yeah, I know, not one of my better turns of phrase). October is usually when I start the downward slide that, usually, ends sometime in the spring. I've theorized that it was lack of sun or lack of exercise or who knows what. In reality I guess I'm just bored.
This year I'll try to stay a little more busy. It will be hard. Sometimes the mind just needs to relax. Maybe meditation can fill the need there. I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
I return to the scene of the crime (or, I came, I saw, I itched)
Whn we last left our super psyco, he was litteraly afraid of itching. This, due in part to a vicious attack by a colony of rabid fire ants with frickin laser beams on their heads.
OK, maybe they didn't have laser beams. They were rabid though, I just know it. You might recall I had a near death experience. By near death, I mean I got hives and went to the hospital. That was the last time I went to this particular place and raced (on a bicycle).
I've told myself for the last month or two that I was just "changing my training schedule". I think on some level I was "scared shitless" and was avoiding this place. I decided I wanted to race there a coupel more times before the season was over so I went last night. Here's how it went.
- Find a parking spot with no grass (cause that's where the ants are)
- Stop the car and immediately open the door and look for ants
- Get out of the car
- Look for ants
- Stoop down even closer to look for ants
- Change clothes while periodically looking for ants
- Feel something crawl on my leg
- Dance like Yosemite Sam was shooting at my feet to shake the "ants"
- Get my bike
- Look for ants
- Get on the bike
- Start to itch and wonder if I was bitten by ants
- Ride around the track at some god-awful speed with 75 people who apparently don't know what "safety" means
- Ride up to my car and within four seconds I do the following:
- Look for ants
- throw my bike in the trunk
- run to the passenger side and jump in
- check for ants
- drive home hoping that that crawling feeling on my leg isn't an ant
- take a shower and remind myself that I'm washing the ants off
- Go to bed and thank God I escaped the ants
- Freak out cause I think I feel an ant
So, as you can see, I've adjusted fairly well... As the ants only occupied 50% of my total brain power I had at least 25% to spare for riding (the other 25% went to standard cancer, aneurism, and heart attack thoughts).
Did I mention there were ants?
OK, maybe they didn't have laser beams. They were rabid though, I just know it. You might recall I had a near death experience. By near death, I mean I got hives and went to the hospital. That was the last time I went to this particular place and raced (on a bicycle).
I've told myself for the last month or two that I was just "changing my training schedule". I think on some level I was "scared shitless" and was avoiding this place. I decided I wanted to race there a coupel more times before the season was over so I went last night. Here's how it went.
- Find a parking spot with no grass (cause that's where the ants are)
- Stop the car and immediately open the door and look for ants
- Get out of the car
- Look for ants
- Stoop down even closer to look for ants
- Change clothes while periodically looking for ants
- Feel something crawl on my leg
- Dance like Yosemite Sam was shooting at my feet to shake the "ants"
- Get my bike
- Look for ants
- Get on the bike
- Start to itch and wonder if I was bitten by ants
- Ride around the track at some god-awful speed with 75 people who apparently don't know what "safety" means
- Ride up to my car and within four seconds I do the following:
- Look for ants
- throw my bike in the trunk
- run to the passenger side and jump in
- check for ants
- drive home hoping that that crawling feeling on my leg isn't an ant
- take a shower and remind myself that I'm washing the ants off
- Go to bed and thank God I escaped the ants
- Freak out cause I think I feel an ant
So, as you can see, I've adjusted fairly well... As the ants only occupied 50% of my total brain power I had at least 25% to spare for riding (the other 25% went to standard cancer, aneurism, and heart attack thoughts).
Did I mention there were ants?
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