Dr. Candy Crush, Dogs, & Triggers

 I saw my psychiatrist today for a medication management appointment.  Yes, Dr. Candy Crush, again. 

In her defense, she was actually pretty focused today.  

I attribute this mainly to the brevity of the appointment and the fact that I came straight in, disregarded the usual pleasantries, and immediately stated my request.  I’m growing fairly certain she’s ADHD.  

Although, the perpetual communication breakdown probably lies with me.  I’m the patient and am therefore, the affected one.  

Hard-knuckling through a bi-monthly face-to-face of endless, repetitive droning about my *horrible life cognition* has got to be brutal, whether her time’s compensated or not.   I mean, who would sit, hands steepled, transfixed, while I regale them with fresh hell from neuron-to-synapse-to-mouth?

Like I said, it was a brief visit because this combination of medications *seems to be working the best* with the most tolerable? side effects.  Today was simply a matter of dosage adjustment.

By the time I got finished with the appointment and over to the SMA pharmacy to get it filled,  Dr. Candy Crush had left her office for the day.  This swift departure was problematic because the pharmacist needed to consult with her about my medication dosing because it was SO EXCESSIVE (her words) and she wouldn’t be able to fill it without the doctor’s verbal confirmation even though it was the doctor who wrote the prescription in the first place. 

So, it turns out that because I’m EXCESSIVELY INSANE, I will have to wait until tomorrow to get the mess sorted out, but luckily! I have enough of all my medications to take enough of the newly prescribed doses from now until then, so all is well.  🙂

Because I do not drive, and have not for the last year and a half, my dad picked me up from this appointment.  (My transportation is my bicycle unless conditions are unsafe, weather is inclement, or the destination too far.)  

On our way back to my house, we stopped at a corner market so I could pick something up while he took a phone call in his car.  I walked out of the store with my purchase and went straight to the passenger side and got back in.  

He finished his phone call and asked, “Was that triggering for you?”, and I asked “What?” thinking maybe he meant something in the store and/or being around food unassisted, even though this isn’t new exposure for me.  And he responded, “That girl that walked in.  The one who passed right by you as you were walking out.  She was obviously Anorexic.  She was totally emaciated.  Either that, or she was dying of cancer.”

I was completely surprised that I hadn’t noticed her; hadn’t zeroed in on her; hadn’t seen her a mile away.  My Eating Disorder Radar was malfunctioning?? I suppose I could have just missed her.  But if she were right in front of me? That’s interesting.  Maybe my hypervigilance is being slightly curbed by the medication as well.  Maybe the forced habit of “Bouncing My Eyes” has got something to it after all.   

I had commented maybe ten minutes earlier to my dad, that I’d been feeling slightly less body conscious.  It’s been very emotionally difficult for me, having restored weight and at times I still feel conflicted.  I’ve recently lost a little; a very insignificant amount; maybe a stone, but that’s just fine because I’m still safely within the healthy range for my height.  Plus, any minor fluctuations could just be water weight due to all the recent changes in medications.

I’m going to not allow that to trigger me either.  

Besides the focus factor of the Dr. Candy Crush appointment, she did ask about my plans to get a new pet to replace Rennie.

My beautiful picture1910591_602644124403_1349_n104_1574104_1575

I was going through a very hard time about 5 months after Rennie died, when my Depression really took over my life to the point where I felt like it was dangerous to be alone.  At that time, I stayed with my mom for a little over two months.  

I’ve since returned home, living at my house for more than a month now.  

My psychiatrist suggested it might be time to start thinking about getting a new pet, as I’d been accustomed to having Rennie for almost half my life (14 years).  I know it is inevitable to lose pets and Rennie was very old, but the way she died was brutal and violent, and she’s been with me through a lot.

My house is small, so I really want another little dog, although big dogs are amazing and if I could squeeze one into 700 square feet I would.  This is all just wishful thinking, and probably not practical, based on my current living situation, but I miss Rennie everyday, and I cry every time I see her pictures.  I wonder how long it takes to finish grieving a pet?


8 thoughts on “Dr. Candy Crush, Dogs, & Triggers

  1. For me, I cried for weeks when I lost my boy. I cried so much and so often that I literally couldn’t produce tears anymore. I grieved for a couple of weeks until soon after, a neighbor across the street from where I live, was outside with her daughter, fostering a group of adorable fluffy, floppy, multi-colored puppies. My first instinct whenever I see a dog…especially a puppy, is pet/hug/hold. She called me over and told me she had this gaggle of pups gated in a circular fence. They were all from the same litter and were Lab mixes, having recently being born of a mother from the Humane Society.

    One particularly caught my eye because she was the spitting image of the dog I had just lost…except she had some brindle markings. She had a beautiful, unique marking on her face that singled her out from the rest…a little brindle patch under her eye. She was shy but as I picked her up, she cuddled her little body against mine with her then, bright blue eyes and gave me the sweetest, gentlest of licks…and I knew she was going to be mine! Just a few weeks after I lost my best 4- legged friend, Lily came into my life.

    It is said, “when one door closes, another one opens.” And though she could never ‘replace’ my boy, she surely opened something in my heart that brought pure joy. Soon after, I stopped mourning and started loving again.

    I will never forget my sweet boy…he will always have a very special place in my heart. But I knew that this little girl needed a home. And someone to love her. And I’m so glad it was ME!

    When the time is right…you just know! ❤️

    • That could not have been a sweeter story! I’m so glad that you met your Lily and that you still had room in your heart for the memory of your boy. I think you said it all it the last line. <3

  2. Kristen, I’m truly sorry, I must have missed the post about Rennie’s death and I’m so embarrassed. My heart is with you. It is difficult to decide on a new pet when one leaves us. A therapist/doctor cannot truly determine when we are ready for another pet, and that is totally up to you and not your doctor.

  3. Oh my gosh, Cassy, thank you. I waited a very long time after she died to post it, so a lot of people missed knowing it happened. I don’t think I ever properly offered my condolences to you either and I’m shamefully overdue, so my apologies.

    I’ve just started looking in earnest now. It’s hard; I compare every one of them to her. My mom suggested maybe a different breed altogether so we’ll see.

    Thank you for the sweet words. 🙂

  4. I don’t think there’s ever a set amount of time that it’s correct to mourn. Losing a pet is very hard, they are truly a member of the family especially when you’ve had them for so long. I will echo what Sherrie said though, just because you’re getting a new pet doesn’t mean you don’t hold a special place for Rennie in your heart.
    I’m glad your Dr seemed more invested this week, hopefully that will be a trend that continues!

    • Thanks, MG. I think I’ve gotten more accustomed to her “method” I suppose you could say. I am feeling positive about it, and am going to proceed as though the trend will keep up. 🙂

  5. Kristen, I did not know. I did not read your December 31 blog post until now. Kristen, I understand more than you know. A few years ago, Gwendolyn was taken into a mouth of a bigger dog, shaked like a stuffed animal, screaming. I couldn’t get her out. Blood everywhere. She eventually stopped screaming because she lost her ability to function. I won’t share here about how she eventually escaped but I know. I understand. I am crying because although I understand how you felt as a mother in that situation, I do not know the feeling of loss. I send you the biggest hug on Earth.

    • Thank you. It’s the most awful thing in the world to watch. And a worse feeling to know that there is nothing to be done. Thank you for the kind words. I hope you never have to go through a traumatic event like that with Gwendolyn again.

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