Falling Into Changes

Me at my desk in the under-renovation Writing Room (photo courtesy of Zachary Valdez)

Hulloo-o-o-o there, blog readers!  I just did the math and realized I let 10 days slip by since my last entry.  In that time, summer surrendered to fall.  Not intentional, I promise.  (The 10 days, I mean.  I have no control over the seasons though at one point I may have convinced my children to believe this for awhile.  Hey, some kids are gullible!)   It's been a rough couple of weeks.  Between my shoulder pain and the upped dose of Celexa (the mild antidepressant I started AND stopped last year, and then REstarted this year) my body and its chemistry have been out of whack enough to slow me down and subconsciously bum me out.  That's a long story made sub-compact right there. 

Was feelin' a little blue . . . 

However, I made two significant decisions to battle these detractors of me.  Namely, adding acupuncture to the list of prophylactic measures in my bag of tricks for this recurring injury to that wondrous joint which anchors my left arm to my torso; and, after a month of waiting for 30 milligrams of citalopram (generic Celexa) to make peace with my brain, I dropped back down to 20 milligrams this past Friday.  These simple acts of proaction (sorry, Spellcheck, it's a word tonight!) have psychologically nudged me back to a comfortable position far from the cliff edge to which I was scooting day by day.

My GAME face.

Because none of my fears revolve around needles, my problems with acupuncture centered more around the money than anything else.  I'd heard enough about Dr. Kestner to feel comfortable in choosing him as my practitioner of this Eastern medicine.  But insurance companies are not on board with the insertion of hair-fine shafts of stainless steel into nerve and muscle.  My first session began with a consult and questions which didn't end when the good doc stuck me with 9 teensy-weensy spears; at my second appointment, I told him to let me have it . . . full strength . . . that resulted in 20 of the little buggers.  I assured him I could sit very still for the roughly 20-minute session.  Oh, how I tried!  But I must admit right here that in reaching for my iPhone to attempt a few photos, I knocked out one of the acu-needles.  Ooops.  I was paying for that!  Lesson learned.  (So, what you see below are the 3 shots Dr. Kestner obligingly took for me during my maiden voyage.)  And with the addition of daily icing, a touch of ibuprofen as needed, and a complete withdrawal from all forms of physical exercise requiring my shoulder, I've noticed an incremental improvement each week 0f 10%-15% which differs from simply doing nothing or attempting physical therapy.  (That also means that for THREE weeks -- sad weeks for me -- I've refrained from my push-up regimen for the third late summer in a row.  Aaargh!  Amazing how quickly muscle loses its form in a post-40 body.)

I'm NOT apprehensive about the treatment . . .
I'm thinking about my wallet!

The doc suggested I try smiling so that folks wouldn't
the wrong idea about acupuncture!

Still working with some muscle here . . . 

Per the antidepressant, even with the aid of my organic cold-brewed Rwandan coffee twice a day, I found myself in a haze most of the day which robbed me of my natural energy and brightness.  It was as if I was unable to every fully wake up.  Concentration came and went.  Usually went.  My mornings took two hours to get me up and at 'em -- totally out of character.  Instead of being late to church or other events because I tried to cram too many quick chores right up against my shower-shampoo-and-shine-time, my tardiness stemmed from a very real physical inability to move or think quickly. I know someone who takes 60 milligrams of this drug daily; it explains a lot about the lack of quality function in their life.  (This little blip in my health radar further enhanced my awareness of the difficulty that my brother and people like him who suffer with mental and emotional illnesses face when they really MUST take lithium and stronger medicine in order to live day-to-day with any semblance of normalcy.) Add to that the increase in my desire to eat, full belly or not, which started to pack on some of those hard-fought ten pounds I lost earlier this year.  NOT COOL!  The lower dose decreased my appetite.  Part of the reason I added this particular anti-depressant on board was to alleviate my anxiety and thought-cycles concerning my weight, eating, etc.  All of which I've touched upon in this blog, or The Reluctant Suburbanite blog, over the past few years. 

Say HELLO to my little friend . . . 

On a positive note long in the works, my last visit to my primary care physician came with an order for blood work.  Turns out that I've finally succeeded in raising my B-12 levels to normal AND my iron is much improved.  It took years to get this right!  My orders are to continue my supplement regimen for the rest of my natural born life.  ROGER THAT!

  

That's ONE type of butterfly.

THIS is another type.

So, let's end this entry right there.  I'm back in the saddle.  Again.  Perking up.  And relieved to say it.  My dog is at my feet -- speaking of feet, he nibbled on my hubby's Harley Davidson black leather boots one morning after my son left them out, minor damage but aggravating to my man, AND I replaced an expensive pair of Nike Air Max tennis shoes to the tune of $120, ON SALE, plus a 20% coupon but STILL, that belonged to my son's friend and found their way to Hank's mouth because they were left in his domain, and there's my son in both stories, enough said about Hank, let's focus on the boy.  

But I digress.  It happens.  

The hubby.

The SON!

The HANKIE Mutt!!!