Today is the one-month mark of when I had to go into the hospital - a day that will live in infamy for me. How I dread ANY sort of hospitalizations because you inevitably need a year, at the minimum, to get over the experience. You have to educate everyone who comes in contact with you about what "Chronic Fatigue Syndrome" is and what fibromyalgia is - several times a day, trying to justify your illness. Even quantifiable things like gall bladder surgery are questioned as if you WISHED for stones and surgery. And forget about telling the doctors that you have CFIDS (Chronic Fatigue and Immune Dysfunction Syndrome) or even fibromyalgia. No one's heard of CFIDS and they only know fibromyaglia in the vaguest way: from the Lyrica commercials.
You're thrown into the inevitable psychiatric wastebasket where more damage is done as you try to explain what your problems are. How, you wonder, can you explain all of what's going on with you and a 35-plus year history, in a few encounters, especially when you want to yell out "get the idiot psychiatrist away from me!" But that's the price you pay in order to continue getting your medications - you hope! You inevitably come home from the hospital (or a new doctor) with medications switched around. You know what the result will be because you were given this newest formula before and were taken off of them because someone inevitably thought that antidepressants were absolutely, POSITIVELY, the wrong medication cocktail.
Everyone gets in on the action with psychiatrists muscling their way in. They bully. Worse, they try to play tricks on you in order to catch you in what they are sure are lies, lying to you in the first place when they play mind games - or use reverse psychology, or any number of their other techniques which are so obvious that anyone with an IQ of 90 or above can tell. (And yes, I'm telling you something everyone knows: IQ's of 100 are average so my expectations are quite, quite low.) Everyone is convinced that what you are describing is all psychological. And are they even really doctors??? Let's just say that were I about to deliver a baby in a stuck elevator, I'd hope that I had a cop with me or even a taxi cab driver, but not a psychiatrist!
I've been put on Cymbalta (SNRI) this time. The fatigue is crushing, not to mention that I have a few other new "goodies" (my worsened vertigo comes to mind). So, after being taken off antidepressants for many, many years for the "lessening of pain," by educated neurologists who understand CFIDS and ME and being taken off antidepressants as many times over the years by psychiatrists who aren't even versed in cardiology, I'm completely frustrated. I know what the results will be. Desperate to play real doctor, they (psychiatrists) unfortunately feel that they can cure that high cholesterol count when they see blood tests coming back. Eons ago, my cardiologist was so upset by this that he said, "when will they stay with psychiatry and leave cardiac 'problems' alone?" I'm back on an antidepressant yet again, a new one. I've been on seemingly "everything" beginning in 1988 with Elavil to Pamelor, to Effexor, Remeron, Wellbutrin (never indicated for anyone with migraines plus putting on at least 30 pounds in a very short time), Prozac, to Zoloft and everything in between.
Darn! I just looked up which other antidepressants I've taken in the past and saw that one of the medications being given to me for my severe, almost fatal insomnia is Desyrel (trazadone). Oh no! In their dreams - though, unfortunately, not mine. I'm not having sleep and, thus, dreams in my life! We've been this route before, many times. And that noise you're hearing is me banging my head on the desk! Boom! Boom! Boom!
When will they learn that my insomnia is caused by damage to the limbic system in my brain? It's much like a faulty switch that you need to jiggle. The medications that help sleep do not help mine. The switch needs something more powerful - what works for me has not yet been invented.
I know where this will end but I'm too exhausted and brain-fogged to protest or even ask halfway intelligent questions. My brain has sustained much damage: I was even tested for brain waves at one point to see if there was any brain activity left since I was in the ICU on a ventilator for so long. I remember almost nothing. Some things are coming back slowly.
But I had to laugh yesterday when I heard that once off the ventilator - yet not coming to for too many days - an odd thing happened. When they were afraid that I was "gone," the nurse was puzzled by my fingers tap, tap, tapping away. Hubs was asked if I was trying to play the piano. Good guess, but really, not good enough. "No," hubs supposedly answered. I was busy typing - writing posts for my blog. So you see, my lovelies, you were never far from my mind - or what I had back then.
My question? (Oh, I have so many I hardly know where to begin but we're going for "short.") Is anyone taking Cymbalta or has anyone taken it in the past? If you don't mind sharing, what were your experiences with it? In fact, what have YOUR experiences been with antidepressants in general. Did you get help with your migraines, sleep, pain, fatigue or any of the gazillion problems that we all experience? I'd love to hear from you.
As always, I hope everyone is feeling their best, only better (fibro logic never fails!) Ciao and paka.
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