Archive for the ‘Fiction is Stranger Than Life’ Category
I’m back on my Biphentin!!! This probably doesn’t thrill you as much as it does me. Nonetheless, it really is important for my head and my ADD. What is Biphentin? Well, since I mentioned ADD, it’s a med for AD(H)D. However, there is more to this story.
Pharmacologically, it is exactly the same as Concerta. Except for some little things like method of delivery and such, but major, mega, hugest point? They are both extended release Methylphenidate. Yep, they’re the same damn pill.
More to the
saga story. In which direction should I pursue all of this? Alright. Chronological is pretty much the best way, yes?
Initially, I was put on Concerta. It worked well. After I started, I felt like the entire world was smiling down upon me, and I had quite the bounce in my step! No wonder people find stimulants a good party drug! I have ADD though, and Concerta is an extended release dose.
I’ve forever wondered this. Would an extended release of Methylphenidate work as well as a party drug, as opposed to Ritalin which is an immediate release of the same? ER might work better for all that student, staying up all night, stuff. Feel free to let me know, any non-AD(H)D’ers. *laughing*
So, I ended up on 36mg of Concerta. However, I felt like I just wasn’t getting enough out of it. Well, this is how I ended up on Biphentin. Concerta’s titration schedule made no sense. Or at least it didn’t then. The 27mg dose wasn’t available when I needed a “boost.”
Concerta started at 18mg increasing by 9mg until it reached 36mg. Then, the nice and even 9mgs stopped. From 36mg, it doubled to 54mgs! The pills could not be split. So, what to do?
54mg was a total bust elsewhere. I’m tiny. Despite the fact that I had no side effects, some drugs need to be prescribed appropriately due to your present state, and other certain things–not just underlying, pre-existing conditions. A big issue for stimulants is losing weight. Even though I hadn’t lost weight, Merlin #2 said I was too small. I did agree, somewhat. Not so much for my body, but for my brain. 54mgs might have made it blow up.
His solution? Biphentin! Why? Proper titration schedule! 10mgs all the way up to 80mgs! PERFECT! So, I skipped up to 40mg of that, and got an extra 4mg. Could that have really made a difference? Why not? The lower Concerta doses were 9mg. So I got roughly half?
When I got laid off, I had to say goodbye to my Biphentin. Back to Concerta. Total Bummer. I was on Government Assistance, and apparently they wouldn’t cover Biphentin. ARGH!!! But now? They’ve finally gotten their heads out of their asses, and it’s in the Formulary!
I took my first pill today! I’m not sure if I feel the entire world is smiling down upon me, and I have a bounce in my step (actually, I think I do.) Although, I am a bit giddy. A bit? It won’t last, but how often can a med titration make you feel good, as opposed to help me I’m going to die!
For me, it’s only with my stims! Go Biphentin! Party On! Where are those non-AD(H)D’ers taking them now! Let’s get going and have some fun!!!*
*NOTE: PA does not, in any way, advocate the use of prescription drugs by anyone, other than the person who has been prescribed said drug. Right now, she just really wants to have some fun, because she IS feelin’ goooood… Who cares if it isn’t “real.” WHOO HOO!!!
Indeed. Yes. Oui. Whatever.
I’m not entirely sure, but my charming states of Typical Absence Status Epilepticus, may be lasting even longer than they did in the beginning. Before I was ever treated. Before I even figured out that I had it.
Back then, it was 6-7 days. Reviewing my
obsessive diligent note taking, I am now seeing a 9 day pattern. That does not bode well, as it leaves fewer days of any “wellness” in between.
That is because it’s catamenial, if any of you don’t know. That means regarding your menstrual cycle. However, it can also mean when you ovulate. The two make a charming couple, don’t you think?
I’ve written so much about this, my regular readers probably have my cycle for both memorized! Well, don’t worry about me getting pregnant, folks.
One, I’m not having sex. Two, I’m gay and don’t sleep with men.
I’m calling Non-Arsey Neuro tomorrow for an appt. I’ve (finally and painfully) gotten around to enter half of January’s information. I built a hopefully, if not remotely, understandable template. Then, I get out a highlighter for the really serious stuff. We last saw each other in mid-October.
I say “finally and painfully” as I can’t figure out if things have changed somehow else in January. I am extremely exhausted every day. I’m not kidding. To the degree where I can’t even pick up the phone to make a simple call! The word “Decompensation” keeps going around and around in my head. Maybe I’m just tired? We’re moving into the 9th month of this now. It could be both? One thing I do know is that it’s not good.
The psychiatric and psychological? The cognitive? The ongoing seizures? *rolls eyes* It’s a package deal, guys.
So, yes. I can’t remember if I’ve told you anything regarding that or who knows what! I have the memory of a goldfish?
Why do people say that? Have there ever been any peer reviewed studies to test memories of goldfishes? I think not! One practical problem, however. Who the hell could make a whack of electrodes that small!
Anyway, I may sound somewhat “Compos Mentis” but Aspie Penguin is putting most of this together. If I had more energy, I’d be so spazzy, that I would be Non Non Non Compos Compos Compos Mentis Mentis Mentis!!!
So I streamed a song on MP3 of the Moment. I was going to try to do more here, get to Twitter business, but whoa…I’m sorry kids.
“Super Cool Wagon” by Sons Of Freedom
Before I touched anything else in my unit (even molesting the Earl of Grey) I had to begin writing this. And hopefully complete it. Every slug on the planet is moving faster than I am. If I actually hit “Publish” then I may only be capable of touching a pillow.
True, Freedom of Speech is always my mantra, but “Freedom of My Own Useless Asshole Speech?” I’m sorry. Since it is, by right, my own free speech, I feel I should be allowed to have at least some control over it.
Let’s look at two of my last recent entries on Twitter, shall we? The first is abominable!
Decision tonight. May not come out right. Feel how you feel about me, like love or even hate. I will feel in manner to my health. It may seem to exclude you. Not my intent. If I remain so disabled as now a certain time may come.
Pray tell, readers. And what doth thee say unto thus?
Are you fucking kidding me??? Fine. I’m sick. I’m seriously, seriously sick. I’m obviously trying to get that point across. However, what the hell does the part about how you feel regarding me have any relevance to that?!
“I will feel in manner to my health.“ Okay, that’s maybe me trying to somehow say, “I need to focus on that.” A tad obvious as some days it’s so bad, I can’t get out of bed and I’m on a steady diet of Gravol, Valium and Ibuprophen.
“It may seem to exclude you.“ Uhhh…maybe some slap in the face if I can’t be so on the ball? That’s really mean, though!
But “exclude?” Now when on earth have I excluded anyone on my blog? Surely under these circumstances when I’m so bloody ill, I haven’t been so great with time. I would like to hope people would be understanding regarding that. But “exclusion?” No. Ain’t EVER gonna happen in PA Land.
Finally, le Piece de Resistance. “If I remain so disabled as now a certain time may come.“ Oooh…spooky…ominous…and it’s not even Halloween yet! Nice sort of bizarre “threat” or something, PA. I mean, it certainly could have been interpreted by someone like that! *slaps forehead*
Have you ever felt extremely, purely evil? Right down to the core? All that you are? Pity if not. It’s fantastic!!! Glorious. #medchange
First, note the hashtag. These were both written while I had literally just started increasing my Clobazam. That did play a role. As I always say with anything mental, and your actions:“It’s a reason, not an excuse.”
Now, it may be hard to grasp, but this entry is completely, and honestly true. Right in the moment. However, you must also understand that nothing would have resulted from those feelings. How do I know? It’s “simple.”
Everybody around here knows that I am not a violent person and my illnesses and disorders do not make me “ragey” in any way (some on the Spectrum can, for example–not to point fingers.) Throughout all of this loss of Clobazam business, I did actually feel “violent” but all I did was throw a bottle of pills across the kitchen! That’s the worst “outward” display I’ve ever had! You all know it’s “inward.” Self-harm.
So, above. Why so “simple?” After a few days of thinking, I believe it was a Simple partial seizure of the psychic origin. It seems almost certain, as I have had two that have altered my perception of self to such an incredible magnitude (i.e. I am not “really” myself.) Then, the immediate euphoria is HUGE.
Do any of you guys remember when I had a Simple partial and believed I was a form of AI (Artificial Intelligence?) I thought THAT was incredible! Being Satan’s prodigy was off the charts.
Yes, yes. I know. How often does our blood boil when someone asks us how we are doing, and we simply answer, “I’m fine.” Well, I am here to tell you that answer is…actually, quite “fine.” I swear. Cross my fine little heart.
I’m not sure how many of you have seen this film I am about to mention. Although it may not be the most thought provoking, intellectually stimulating, or a piece of cinema to be philosophically debated for generations. Nonetheless, it does deliver an extremely potent message for us all. I am speaking of “The Italian Job” that was made in 2003 (not to be confused with the original from 1969.)
What does it impart that is such an unbelievable gem? It is only within a small piece of dialogue. About what determines “fine.”
F – FREAKED OUT
I – INSECURE
N – NEUROTIC
E – EMOTIONAL
Thus, when we do answer we are “fine” we are telling the exact truth. It really is a perfectly, reasonable response. In knowing this, I think we can all heave a collective sigh or relief and feel a great weight lifted from our shoulders.
However, I see a problem that still exists. This new knowledge is imbalanced (and I am not referring to the acronym.) It almost appears as a “secret.” A sort of “insider information” thing. We know the answer, but what about the person who posed the question (unless it was one of us.) So, it leaves only one choice. We must spread the word! We must tell everyone!
We have to paint it on billboards! Slap it on every form used for transportation! Posters on every street! Take over the Internet as daunting, and even frightening that may be!
Moreover, this must be a global commitment! We all must take part and do our share, no matter how insignificant it may seem. Not-for-profit organizations must be contacted, so please make them aware. Surely there are wealthy individuals who would be willing to offer financial support. Just pause for a moment and think of the possibilities.
I vow to lead this project, but I will need others to form an Executive Team, other individuals who have special skills and experience to serve in their areas of expertise, as well. Please contact me if you are willing to join and serve with me. We WILL make the world understand!
Dear Mom and Dad,
I’ve been away now at summer camp for a while, so I thought I’d better write you a letter. I figured you’d get pretty angry if I didn’t do it by now. So, what can I tell you.
Okay, I’m still sick from when you brought me. At least since it wasn’t contagious, they still allowed me, but really, to be honest, I didn’t care. That may make you angry too, but it’s the truth. But yeah. Nothing’s changed. Even IF you somehow thought me getting lots of sun, and fresh air, and lots of swim lessons and meeting new pals, and more stuff would help, well, it hasn’t. Still seizing big and all the rest. So you’re still going to have to deal with me when I come home. Just so you know. Be prepared?
The dying and dead stuff? It’s really weird. I met this girl here. Even more weird, I don’t know her real name. She just says everyone can call her “PA.” So, we all do. She’s got epilepsy like me, is sick just like me now but A LOT worse. What a coincidence, don’t you think?
But this is where more weird stuff comes out. Sure, there’s the epilepsy and her name, but she must have a really odd life too. Everyone is saying she’s a liar as it can’t possibly be true. They’re also saying she’s crazy. A real mental whacko. I don’t think she is though. She’s calm when she talks about it. Not jumping all over like some freak you’d see in a movie. But she’s not TOO calm. Not like a zombie.
She’s saying her mom’s husband may be dying but she can’t tell yet because her mother is “right back just where she used to be!” I’m not sure what that means but I think she’s saying she can’t get answers from her mother, somehow. She does know the cause. It’s cancer. Prostate Cancer. She explained it to me and dad, if I can tell you, it kind of freaked me out! Does that really happen to us when we get older? That prostate thing?
Next, she knows someone else who just died. Some of her friends. Their dad. I told her I was really sorry about it but she didn’t seem to care. Now, she’s running around telling people that there is a very dangerous and bad man out there, but then don’t tell anyone she’s said a word of it! I don’t understand mom and dad. Why would she do that? Tell people and then say not to tell anyone she did. Is she scared? Is she really crazy after all?
I do know she’s not stupid. We talk about lots of other things too. The above stuff is just kind of “new?” We laugh so much as she just got a new smartphone. I’m trying to help her get the hang of it but she keeps telling me she’s a total stupid loser. I don’t think she is. I’m kind of embarrassed to say it mom and dad. God if anyone ever found out here at camp! I really kind of like her. I think she’s pretty cute no matter what she says. Maybe in my next letter home, I’ll send you a photo of us together.
Love from your son,
We’ve killed so much of our planet, Big Pharma really can’t kill us. That’s because we’ve taken away what they need. Thus, we are only to blame. Since we’ve already destroyed so much of our precious terrain, forget the following piddly examples of the past, and how we’ve interpreted them:
Jonestown, Heaven’s Gate, the Order of the Solar Temple, the Branch Davidians, the Family International, Las Cañadas Suicide sect scare, the Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God.
And probably many more. Though presumably of much less significance, as they didn’t get much mention in Wikipedia (if any.)
So, you can add them all up, as many as you can find, but it still won’t matter. The whole whack of us are committing mass-suicide without Big Pharma’s help at all!!!
Please don’t misunderstand. This isn’t a pro-Big Pharma
rant post. Admittedly, I do have a love/hate relationship with them. My meds keep me as sane as I can possibly be. Whether you choose to believe that or not, it is, in fact, true. However, not to completey cockblock myself here, that last “truism” may be the only one within this entire piece. No matter. I think there is truth here, and definite merit to what I have to say.
Yes, I am continuing to
rant write about not having access to my Clobazam/Frisium. Which I have every right to do. Not just because I’m sick, and seizing, and going out of my mind (note: this in no way affects the writer’s state of mind to write.)
When I found out I had to go off it, I began running around, most assuredly, looking like a desperate junkie. I wore not a mask of obscene horror, but the true face of someone needing, “Just one more hit!” Nope. It was the same thing everywhere. No stock, little stock, scant supplier re-stocking dates (if known period.)
After much convening with doctors, pharmacists, hospitals (only from an outpatient perspective, unfortunately), I was left quite lost and bereft. Hell, by that time, I should have gotten a camera, and started doing “Man on the Streets!” Eventually, I discovered the real story.
It had nothing to do with politics, and the pharmacists lobbying and pushing for more rights, here. That was my original thought. That everyone had gotten their knickers in a knot, and grew beyond such a point, that it seriously was some “Big Pharma Armageddon!” Time to turn down the Conspiracy Theory Meter?
Raw materials. They can’t find them? Don’t have enough of them?
I’m no chemist, nor a pharmacologist. Biology and physiology seem to be my best “fit.” Oh, screw that! My chemistry sucks! Pretty damn well all the way around! And yet, I don’t think it takes too much scientific acumen, to understand the basic concepts. It’s like a recipe. Although, before I proceed, if this sounds completely moronic, will any chemistry folks reading promise to be nice?
Big Pharma Medication Recipe:
1. Obtain molecules necessary from certain substances, and measure as required (extraction.)
2. Combine all, and stir until even (compounding.)
3. Simmer for three hours (internal trial testing–i.e. “Let’s see if this works.”)
4. Serve upon fine china, with or without linen napkins (double blind, patient trial testing–i.e. “Will they get food poisoning?”)
5. Patent it, sell it, make it available for take away, and delivery too (Dinner Is Served!!!)
So, these lack of raw materials needed. Where are they to be found? How about earth? Meds don’t just fly out of the universe, straight into the CEO’s office, of whatever drug manufacturer is listed on your box, or vial. If you think they do, please call your doctor immediately, or head to your closest hospital. Not that you will. Because you’re too far out of your head to care.
Indeed, it would be lovely if our meds could rain down upon us from the universe. Perhaps they would be stronger, more plentiful, even provide “cures” to make us healthier, wealthier and wise! But as long as we choose to wait for that; to live in such a most bizarre fantasy land, it’s all about those raw materials. That would also be known as organic chemistry. Yes?
Therefore, in closing, we’ve done so much to piss off Gaia, I’m paying the price. Big Pharma hasn’t painted a huge target on me, after all!
Sheesh. I don’t drive. I don’t litter. I sort my trash. I recycle. I…
I’m tired. I can’t wake up. It’s also taken me hours to type this, even in draft, as I’m still doing the “few-or-two-fingered typing thing.” It’s annoying as all hell, and I can’t get things done, as it slows me down too much. I need to be like Data, from Star Trek TNG.
Actually, I had a Simple partial seizure where I thought I was a form of AI. Yes, I was a form of Artificial Intelligence, just like Data. That sort of psychic manifestation of a Simple partial might freak a lot of people out. But, I totally loved it!!!
It was so much fun. I stared at myself in the mirror and I saw “me,” but it wasn’t me. It was merely another version of “me,” that was a form of AI, and full of all these other qualities. That other “me,” was far superior (if not completely error free), in performing any task that a human being could not do!
That was the biggest form of DP/DR I’ve ever had with a Simple partial to date. Well, barring my gelastic seizures that take over my entire body and being, like I’m a demon possessed. They can be scary for people having them, too, as they are basically a massive eruption of completely, uncontrollable emotion. Mine is humour so I’ll just start laughing, doubled over, tears streaming out of my eyes… At nothing. I love them, as well!
In having both PTSD and epilepsy, many people have asked me what are the similarities and/or differences, between what I experience regarding DP/DR in terms of both. I’ll probably get the question again in the future, but I don’t mind answering something over and over!
It’s always been a tough question for me to answer–at least to one point–it feels different. That, of course, then begets more question/s. After me telling people that it is somehow different, I have to try and offer up some distinction. Also, I should mention that these questions usually (but not always), come from people in the PTSD and DID camp. Thus, they are already familiar with DP/DR, and dissociation.
With my Simple partial seizures, there may be other things happening at the same time. Other things that are altering my consciousness to varying degrees. So then, I need to toss the ball back to you. Are you experiencing “anything else” when you’re dissociating? Also, to what degree is your consciousness altered? Does it change as time moves on?
That is also another tough one for me. Simple partial seizures can progress to other seizures, so my consciousness can further go out the window. This doesn’t happen all the time, though. Certainly, less than most times.
Here are some possible scenario/s for me. Although, before I start, I will state, very importantly, my Simple partial seizures last app. 30-60 seconds. That is typical in presentation. Also, for me, my consciousness can remain unaltered enough in some cases, to time the seizures. Still, it can be pretty hard. Finally, just to TRY to keep things easier, I’m going to refer to my epilepsy symptoms as DP/DR, and the PTSD as dissociation.
Now, let’s try and run down some combinations along with my Simple partial seizure DP/DR activity, and show what has been more prominent and common over the years. However, some are actual seizure events and/or manifestations in other areas of the brain, maybe something else coming down the tracks, a bigger seizure, what I mentioned above. I will mark those in bold.
DP/DR + tachycardia (very frequent), muffled ambient sound (very frequent), deja vu (frequent), jamais vu (what is known and familiar to a person, momentarily becomes unfamiliar – infrequent), odd sense that I felt a tingling in my head and brain (infrequent), Micro/Macrosomatognosia* (Body Image Disturbance, where parts of your body can appear smaller, larger, distorted – semi-frequent), Micro/Macropsia* (External Image Disturbance, where objects around you can appear smaller, larger, distorted – semi-frequent), epigastric rising (I don’t believe that I have abdominal epilepsy but this one – more than frequent!) eyelid myoclonus (frequent), facial twitching (semi-frequent to infrequent), drooling (very frequent!) changes in emotional states (infrequent.)
I guess I could leave it at that? Quite a few things, and there are more!
Who knows? My experiences with epilepsy, may actually have more in common with what others’ experience, regarding their dissociation and DP/DR.
* – These are some symptoms of the so-called: “Alice in Wonderland Syndrome.” Another symptom is loss of time, but I would think that would fit for me, as it’s still very difficult to time the seizure events. In some cases of “Alice,” you may find other things mentioned above, or not, plus other things I have felt.
POSTSCRIPT: I just realized something in stating my PTSD dissociation, and it always being so different from my Simple partial DP/DR. I was reading about other seizure activity and I might be a bit off course there! Oops.
I’m still tired. I still can’t wake up.
I have my CT tomorrow. I doubt it will show anything. Nope. Nothing. I’ve said this with my past MRIs, as well. The scans will show nothing, too. And they never did.
It was because I thought I had an empty head. Which I’m certain is true, now. I had my doubts before, but not anymore.
When I was always told the results came back as “Negative” I was sure it meant something else. “Negative” didn’t mean the scans couldn’t detect any problems. “Negative” was all to do with my physician’s feelings. They always felt so disappointed and dismayed. Completely downtrodden because one day, someday, they hoped to find more than an empty head. So, “Negative” really described their entire mental state after viewing my scans.
I think one day when I went for a follow up with a particular doctor, it may have gotten so bad, it spilled over and affected the entire office staff. That guy probably might have been resurrected from his overwhelming state of grief, just to find a peanut shell in my head. No such luck, though.
I can let you guys know how it all turns out, but I don’t think anything will be different. However, at least I finally now know I have an empty head. That explains quite a lot. Well, way more than quite a lot.
This fact is kind of scary. Well, way more than kind of scary. I’m the first, lethal, unloaded weapon on the planet.
I don’t know how many of you scroll down far enough to see my current reads. I haven’t done this sort of thing in a long time (not scroll down far enough to see my current reads.) Wow. I’m having some serious (both written and real life) Aspie, literal issues.
No, I’m talking about my ADD, here. Usually it’s with one book. If the material is relatively easy, I may only make it through a limited number of pages. Concentration still not so improved with the Concerta, but better. However, I can’t devour books like I used to. Quel, quel, quel drag.
Or, if the book is still relatively easy and I’m really into it, I may tend to bounce all over to see what comes next, skipping hither and yon, even if I don’t like to do that. I have to go through the book from beginning to end! I’d never understand any of it if I didn’t!
Now? Again, not in a long time. I’m reading three at once! I’m finding it pretty funny, too.
I usually read when I’ve popped my pills and flop into bed. Try and relax a bit and help me get to sleep. Since I’ve got three on the go, I’m now I finding I stare for a fair while, quite indecisive about which one I should pick up. Last night, I chose the closest within reach!
I wrote in this post that I was now reading three, plus I had bought three new Graphic Novels! I’m trying very hard not to touch those.
So, if you don’t know what I end up fighting with every night, here you go:
“The Boomer Bible” by R.F. Laird
“Speaking of Sadness” by David A. Karp
“Wuthering Heights” by Emily Bronte
I’m not sure if we could do any sort of “dissection” based upon my choices. Maybe only this. Number one: Humour. Number two: Mental Health. Number three: Classics. That’s as far as I think you could go.
My next thought is this, ultimately. Number one: Humour (being the overall–except, perhaps “pseudo-history?”) Number two: Depression. Number three: Depression. Indeed. The latter two aren’t really so funny at all, are they?
Although, some of the peoples’ quotes of their experiences with Depression are kind of funny. One guy said that if there was a million dollars across the room, with Depression, you’d never be able to get it. Depression’s so bad, you just can’t get out of bed, so forget that nice, cool million. Well, I think back on some of my worst episodes of Depression, and sure as shit, I’d get out of bed for that amount of money! Probably even less!
So, what can you say about that? Sure, Depression’s awful. It is debilitating. However, I would still take money if I became depressed. Am I a “Depression Gold Digger?” No. I don’t think so. I’ve yet to see my Pot of Gold or any other financial reward when I still get depressed. I suppose I can keep hoping, but I’d rather avoid Depression altogether and buy lottery tickets instead.
But back to humour in Wuthering Heights. No, not so much. Unless you’re quite a sadistic creature and you really get off on storybook character’s pain and misery.
It’s one of my favourite books of all time. I lost my copy way back so I had to go and pick up another one. It’s been on my mind so much lately. Like a “Literary Earworm!” And before you ask, I’m not a sadistic creature who’s getting off on all the pain and misery of it.
For now, this is all I can manage. I want to continue with the med stuff (although I don’t even know if anyone cares, or are bored to tears at this point.) Regardless, time to spin a new tune on MP3 of the Moment. As I wrote above the song in the sidebar, I don’t really know how to describe these two guys and the music they create.
Well, it’s obviously instrumental (although do I have a vocal track on the CD?) I can’t remember. Anyway, let’s just say mostly instrumental. New Age? Oh, that term drives me bonkers, with a capital “BONK!”
World? Well, maybe. But then, record companies, agents, producers, reviewers, etc… drill down to what types of worlds the artists come from, how they experiment with sounds from other worlds. Thus, in doing so, they are so “different” and wonderful!” They stand apart from any others like them! In fact, they are nothing short of…
Oh, for god’s sake! They’re not interplanetary (or outerplanetary) beings! They just make music!
So, have a listen. I hope you enjoy. I’m going to return to my status of an outerplanetary being now.