Worry of the week

I got a call today from the doctor’s office about Joseph’s blood. Can’t remember if I said anything, but Josey had to get a bunch of blood drawn last week so the doctor could possibly find a fixable reason for why Joseph will just not gain any weight. His height is ok, but he weighs only 47 pounds (he’s 9). The lady who called said his blood count is low and he has to go get more blood drawn. She didn’t say which portion of the blood is low. I can’t imagine it’s red blood cells, as he has iron in his daily vitamin, and Joseph is the king of routines. I don’t want to even ponder that it’s his white blood cells. So, Friday morning we’ll drag our asses out of bed to go get him poked again. Fortunately we have some of that ‘magic cream’ left, though Joseph cried a bit when I told him the news because he said it hurt even with it. Poor bean.

This will sound completely selfish, but I’m a bit glad it’s Joseph and not Nyssa that needs a blood draw. Joseph can be even-keeled and, well, basically not be a fatalist like Nyss would surely be. I don’t know that I could deal with four days of Nyssa screaming and crying because she’ll have convinced herself that she has some terrible blood disease and she’ll be dead within the week. I’m surprised actually that she hasn’t mentally latched onto worries about her brother.

In other fantastic medical news, the BBC has reported that SSRIs perhaps do little more than provide a placebo effect. To be honest, I’ve long suspected this, but I’ve also long been taking Celexa. For some reason, the idea that my brain got functional on its own makes me more anxious than being able to attribute it to a drug. Pathetic, yes. I think I’m aware of quite how faulty my brain’s wiring is, and I really don’t want to think that the only thing that I can help myself with when next I have problems is my own strength/chemistry/PMA/whatever. This quirk is made even more bizarre since I’ve long accepted that my most fundamental psychiatric problem, DPD (depersonalization disorder), which I’ve had since about the age of 12, is incurable and completely intertwined with all of the other aspects of my personality, and I’m fairly philosophical about it (with some strange lifestyle accommodations). The difference, I guess, is that with DPD I can just shut down and sit it out. With panic, I feel certain that I’m having a heart attack/about to choke/etc. because I have physical symptoms that my empirical brain wants to take seriously. It’s all karma I suppose. When I was younger, I was critical of hypochondriacs. Now I’d totally be one of those weirdos that purchases access to high-tech body scanning equipment, wires herself up to oxygen monitors at night, etc., if I could afford such frivolities. This is where I recommend having faith of some kind to those who can muster it. If I could believe that something in particular happens after death I might calm down a little. As it is, I’m incapable of faith and rather than freeing me from worry (since our best evidence is there is no existence of the ‘self’ after death so we wouldn’t know the difference anyway), it makes me paranoid because all reason, purpose, meaning, etc. has to come from within me, the ultimate flawed entity. Anyway, blah blah blah, you’ve heard all this before. It’s the usual life-dichotomy of the agnostic, trying to live and raise kids as though we have something to base all our behaviors and decisions on when all the time there’s the nagging certainty that we’re totally winging it because there’s just no alternative..

So, on a much happier note, I’ve learned this week that bliss can be had for 2 quid. The last gaming platform I played regularly was a Super Nintendo, and I was completely in love with the Zelda game for it. Some time ago I discovered that it had been pulled from the vaults to be made into a gameboy advance game. The GBA has always been much too painful to use because it doesn’t have a backlit screen and I am very, very old. So imagine my excitement when I learned that The Nintendo DS would accept GBA games. It took a couple years and lots of wheedling at James, but I finally got one this week as my very belated Christmas present. I managed to find the aforementioned Zelda game on ebay for, you guessed it, 2 quid (you didn’t think I found a DS for that price did you? :P) and it came in the mail today. Ahhh. And it wasn’t a completely uneducational purchase–I got to explain to the kids what ‘nostalgia’ means. Awesome.

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3 Responses to “Worry of the week”

  1. Anonymous Says:

    Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes on all the head meds/inner strength/physical affects of anxiety and flawed entities etc!

    I demand you look me up when you’re in town!

    Good luck with the blood.

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