It’s the little things.

The depression came up in a way I would honestly not have expected today.

I’ve got a cold.  A really pretty vicious one–I sound worse than Harold, all wheezy and cracked, and as shall shortly become apparent, I am having trouble focussing.  I made it out to the drugstore and got orange juice and tissues and Powerade and expectorant.  And then I came back, and I discovered that that cough medicine in question advises that I consult a doctor before taking it if I am taking medication for depression.

It turns out that it can have some really fun interactions with my meds; I couldn’t made sense of that, but I managed to find a couple of people who were very kindly willing to explain, and the short version is something like “your meds slow down metabolism of that drug, how do you feel about potentially extreme side-effects including seizures?”

One of them also suggested calling a medical professional to check, which was helpful because that possibility had honestly not occurred to me in my current state. Despite the label on the cough medicine saying “Talk to a doctor before using this product if…”

Yeah, I’m that level of sick-and-out-of-it.

Anyway, I got a callback from the doctor’s office, and it should be okay.

It’s just…

There’s a very good analogy about spoons that explains how you need to manage things, think about things that most people get to take for granted.  And I’m not saying that tripping up on taking cough medicine is the same as having Lupus!  But needing to check, consciously learning that I need to pay attention to labels (even in this state, where I looked at the label before buying the stuff and didn’t even register that bit until I got home), it’s a weird feeling.  A reminder that yes, this is part of my life and it’s going to mean paying attention, and sometimes the same condition that puts me in a state where I need to pay attention to things is going to be the condition that means I’m not able to do it.

It’s tiring, I guess.  I wish I had a better word.

(In the meantime, though, I have made sure that the light of my life has the information on exactly which drugs and at what dosage I’m on, readily to hand.  Between this and the “it should probably be fine”, I am going to stop sending energy on worrying and go drink a lot of orange juice.)


We have been sitting in the doctor’s office for an hour and five minutes now. It is boring. For the record.

Apparently we’re next in line, but I don’t know when that line is next moving forward. For the moment, this is largely a chance to practice typing on Swype.

There is one bonus; there is some kind of pseudo-Scrooge romcom movie playing on the waiting room, and John has said that he takes back everything bad he has ever said about my taste in the movies he watches with me.

And as soon as he starts editorializing on the movie, a get called in. Onwards!