Firing Up The Vents

Fair warning to anyone following who is court ordered to leave me alone see your way out. This legally applies to anyone attempting to pass anything along second hand. 

Putting the fun back in dysfunctional

Yes it's been a while since I've written and noticeably absent is anything about my recent mental health drama. Then along came my ankle. I've been waiting to write until I felt things had settled into a rhythm of some sorts so I could tell what was going on.
This is as settled as it gets I suppose and things are pretty calm. Two weeks of leave have helped that considerably but so has my rejecting any and all medications championed by all care providers.

No anti-depressants, no analgesics, no mood enhancers, no sleep remedies, no anti-hypertensives. NO CRAP!

The military reacted to the reports of so many troops suffering from mental health issues with a blitz of resources. Unfortunately, in the effort to help, I got chewed up in the machine and spat out. It wasn't a malicious effort, I believe each provider was doing what they thought would help me. But in the beginning my appointments were about 15 minutes to get in, see a physicians assistant (who was sorely overloaded), state my very complex life, and get a diagnosis. In all that, sometimes they forgot to listen to what I was saying.

I went in for stress issues in the fall of 2007. I walked out of that appointment with Zoloft and with some Ambien to help me sleep. When that didn't do much for me, the dose went up to "reach a therapeutic level". On a follow-up visit a different provider (always!) told me that Ambien taken with anti-depressants can lead to worsening depression. Imagine that.

Somewhere in here I was prescribed Lorazepam (Ativan) to help with the added anxiety I felt with the Zoloft. When that didn't work they switched the Ativan for Alprazolam (Xanax). This led to some other problems to include drinking. Really bad idea especially when you are on benzodiazepines. Of course this only added to my stress from the fallout of all of this.




Back to the doc, again it's a different doc each time so you have to explain everything each time eating up your precious time with the provider who has to figure it all out for a new and improved plan. Also in this time, the efffects of the meds skewed my perspective and I'm buying into the diagnosis. I mean a medical professional told me I was depressed so who was I to argue.

After a ride on Zoloft, I was switched to Celexa and was still on Xanax. Same regimen, see if I tolerate it than increase the dose until I hit the max. I was reassigned in this time frame and this meant I was seen in a different clinic. So guess what? New doc, overview of the past year of care and woe. This guy sent me to a Psychologist at least. The psych listened and decided to just work with some relaxation exercises to start and some follow-up visits after that. After a few visits we discussed a change in meds to deal with anxiety and depression. By this time I was arguing that I wasn't depressed and that my issue was stress, STILL!

This lead to a change in meds. This would prove to be a wild ride. I was switched to Prozac. Started out at 40mg with a Xanax chaser. This is what I went to Utah on. Little wonder I have memory issues with that trip (Not to mention all that happened).

Upon my return, I ended up on 80mg of Prozac and then...hooboy! I started getting more agitated and tense (if you were around me this is not news to you). Everything became a crisis. The docs said it was from PTSD. That the mechanism that controls my adrenaline was broke so it didn't adjust up and down it was just on and off. Whatever the reason, I went from Zero to 100 in the blink of an eye. Prozac and I are not on speaking terms.

This is what lead to the two overdose situations in April and my eventual hospitalization. The best part of this was that they forgot to give me my meds. This is how I found that my meds were causing more problems then they were fixing.

I have been off any and all meds for a couple of weeks now and feel much better and I seem to be back to normal, whatever that is. The biggest problem I have is that no matter how much the Army preaches about taking away the stigma of mental health and seeking help, I now have to overcome most people looking at me sideways like I just escaped from the psych ward. I also have to heal all the wounds in my own family and playing catch-up with everything that dropped to the wayside while daddy went crazy.

Another thing I came to realize is that in every medical discipline, the patient is HIGHLY encouraged to participate in their care. Every discipline EXCEPT mental health. As soon as you ask for help you lose all credibility because you are mentally ill. When I asked a provider a few months back to arrange a multi-discipline appointment where all the various providers involved in my care would be present I was very adamantly shot down. She said they would hold the meeting and then tell me what they decided. Sorry, that's not going to happen. Would you trust a group of people holding a council to decide if what you are saying is true? I mean they couldn't get my initial complaint right with me in the room I'm doubtful they would be any more accurate with me out of the discussion. And I don't want anything to do with a caregiver that will not be completely honest with me.

To give you an idea of how the machine thinks, I was hospitalized twice for an overdose of prescribed medication yet was sent to counseling for alcoholism because wine was present at the second event. Not because I swallowed most of my prescribed meds (which were myriad since no one was really paying attention to the chemical roller coaster they put me on) but because I drank wine with some benzodiazepines. I do have a history of alcoholism I don't deny that, but I have done as well as AA says a person can and until I was riding this train had been dry for quite some time.

I forgot to include the Amitryptiline they gave me with the Prozac. This was to help me sleep with a side effect of assisting in anxiety. There were some other meds in there during the whole time that I left out. These were not related to this experience so much as they were just related to general health like allergy meds, pain relievers, oh yeah, let's not forget in the end I was put on Concerta for ADD as well as three days on Abilify. The Abilify gave me an excruciating headache after the third dose, I began vomiting.

Fun, fun, fun!

I recognize that I am not what most of these providers are used to dealing with. They are more accustomed to dealing with acute PTSD and depression related to combat not with someone dealing with a basically terminally ill child while living the dream in the Army. All I ask is that they listen to the patient before making a diagnosis.

So now you have an overview of what went on for nearly two years before I went down in flames. I am assured that none of the effects of the meds are permanent. I pointed out that I wasn't so sure about that since it affected my professional life as well as my personal life. These effects don't just resolve on their own. If you are among the people I have offended, I apologize profusely. I hope that I have not done anything permanent.

Time may heal all wounds but I wonder how long we are talking here?

What does God look like?

A friend made a comment as we were reminiscing about when "I found God". It's been stuck in my head for a while now. No I haven't been brooding over this like some offended child, I've been thinking about how we all come to meet God in our own way.

I found God but I'm sure He's different from the one you found. The world is filled with faithful followers of many different deities and dogmas. But it is also filled with many who adamantly deny ANY religious belief.

Isn't that a religious belief? That there is no supreme being, no master plan. This mortal existence is all that we have so make the most of it.

So what does God look like to you? I am reminded of a song I heard every year around Christmas about how "..some children see him blonde and fair...some children see him bronze..." So, how does he look to you? Or She for that matter. I will try to keep it neutral but yes, I believe in a Heavenly Father, Eloi, Elohim, etc. This should explain my use of the male pronouns. It in no way is to belittle your faith.

My faith is very important to me as I am sure yours is to you. If it wasn't that important we would have a lot less violence in the world I do recognize that. My faith is one of peace but I reserve the right to defend the freedom to worship as I wish. I also reserve the right to defend yours as well. The trick comes when my freedom to worship/believe offends you and vice-versa.

In the political arena, we have many hot button issues that have people on all sides of the issue fired up and ready to fight, call names, even turn to violence. I shouldn't be surprised but when it comes to publicizing names of who supported what and who made financial contributions, etc haven't we really gone a bit overboard?

By publicizing these facts we seem to be inviting the fringe elements of every twisted variety to act against those spotlighted. In my mind, this IS terrorism. A psychological operation at the grass roots level. When we fear to voice our opinion we have lost our truest freedom. To be heard and our position considered.

In other words, just because God looks different to you doesn't mean how I treat you should change. I believe we are descended of the same Heavenly Father so how can I not have an interest in you as a person? It is only when one tries to take advantage of my tolerance that I become defensive (or offensive as your view may find it) and we begin to have an issue.

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It should come as no surprise that I am a staunch supporter of traditional marriage, of the sanctity of life which puts me at odds with abortion, of moral and ethical behavior in all aspects of our life. So does this label me as one of THEM. In contrast, I do not support the same behavior from those whose belief aligns them with my cause(s). Politics make strange bedfellows indeed but I do not wish anyone to fear differing in their views for fear of reprisal. As long as they allow me the same opportunity to differ in my opinion without fear of the same.

So, what does God look like to you?

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Yes, I've not posted in a while. Yes it was intentional. While they watch me twitch and wiggle on all the different meds they've given me I decided to wait a bit and come down before reentry...get it?

Seriously, I needed to level off before I wrote again. I have offended so many or caused many others to worry as my mood swings this way and that. In reality, these are manifestations of a drug habit...my doctors! They have a habit of putting me on drugs! I thought I had something working here and then I screwed up my ankle. I find out in the morning what wonderful news the discovered in my X-rays and Bone Scans. Not looking forward to it. The news will not be good it will just have varying degrees of bad. This does not sit well with me.

2009 has been wild and I am looking for it to settle down but every time I do, BAM, something else hits me. I reached out for help and it seems to only be adding fuel to the fire. I guess it is to be expected for some chaos to come before the calm but for anyone following this soap opera, am I a whiner or have we been nailed with a Super-sized crap sandwich?

Ok, scratch that last question, I am a whiner. I am petty. I tend to lash out and unfortunately, offend those who do the most to help me through my trials. That would be a good thing to get these docs to work on. Find me a medication that will make me a little less of a jerk. Or have the 'jerk' part of my brain removed or electrocuted or something. Now there's something I could support.

There's a rumor that I need a vacation but I wouldn't know what to do. Not that our family needs a vacation but that I do. I'm thinking of going on a roadtrip on my motorcycle down the coast, through the redwoods, and then what?

Aren't vacations family affairs involving a station wagon, beach balls, and a visit to a national park? Every time we have taken a vacation, we have ended up dealing with an emergency. No joke. Is it any wonder I am afraid to take one?

Cari is in Pennsylvania this week and I am just waiting for the bomb to go off. Not literally, but if history is any indicator, something is about to go wrong. Sometimes if nothing bad does happen, I make it happen. I won't today. That's all I can promise. I did my best to screw up yesterday but hopefully I can make amends for that. In my defense, I was in a great deal of physical pain but that shouldn't matter. See above comment about being petty, etc.

I will have to find a different outlet since a vacation right now wouldn't be prudent. I mean, expense+injury+medication+motorcycle=disaster. Maybe I'll rent a cabin and the family can have a vacation from dad and all the stress that follows him. Probably cheaper and safer. Hmmmm...

Memorial Day 2009

SSG James Patrick Francis - KIA 27 May 1969. My sister Mary gave me this photo of Pat shipping out for Vietnam. This was the last time she saw him alive. I was just over 6 months old when he was killed.



Memorial service for SGT Roberto Arizola - KIA 8 Jun 2005. This photo is of his team leader overcome with emotion as she pays her respects.



Please, Memorial day at 3pm Eastern, stop whatever you may be doing to pause and reflect for a moment on those who have sacrificed their lives. Attend a ceremony at a veterans cemetery. Fly a flag at half staff until 12 noon. Take the time to maintain the graves of those who may no longer have someone to visit and maintain their marker or headstone.

Pray for peace.

You may not support war of any sort but Soldiers see it up close and have a perspective the protected never know.

Most have lost their lives in their youth. All of their hopes and dreams were buried with them. Families left behind mourning as they seek answers for why. For many, these answers never come and for some, peace may never come either. But until all men, everywhere, can agree to live in peace, war will be inevitable.

So please, take this opportunity, tradition holds 1 minute, to pause and reflect on all those who have sacrificed all that they had that you may have the freedoms you enjoy. The freedom to disagree with those we elect. To live as you wish within the laws of the land. The freedom to denounce those who choose to fight for things they believe in.

One minute. It's not much to ask. Not to glorify war, to remember those who have paid to the 'uttermost farthing'.


http://www.usmemorialday.org/observe.htm

	Stevie Ray vaughn - stevie ray vaughn-little wing
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Mental Veggies - This is good for you but you might like that.

My Thanks to my mom for forwarding me this message. To whomever created it thank you. I hope you don't mind my posting it here. If you do let me know, I will take it off, and blog about what a pinhead you are. Sorry, I am blunt honest like that but I trust that your desire is to get this message out. Same goes for the artists who created this. I am making no money here so cut me some slack. Thanks -SSG Jack G. Francis


To the rest of you, yes there is a theme going on. Enjoy your Hot Dogs and Bratwurst. Over 400,000 stand ready to keep your holiday plans safe.

The Cat is back

http://www.youtube.com/watch/?v+oufVrt7sOC0

After much public outcry (ok, it was just me crying) I have decided to restore my blog for all you voyeurs who wish to live the dysfunctional lifestyle vicariously. I have in the works many entries but my main focus this weekend is a posting for Memorial Day. No Barbecue, no beer bash. A posting memorializing our war dead.


I would hope that some of you might actually go to a nearby National Cemetery and attend a formal service. It should start officially sometime before 3pm when we are supposed to stop and reflect on those who have sacrificed their youth and dreams that you may live yours out in a country that allows you to be what you want.







And no, the monument behind me is not to Bill Clinton. It's the Washington Monument kids