I changed my mind. Sue me.

I know what I said. 100% against medication for ADHD. The counselor made a compelling arguement, though, and although I don't believe you should have to argue your patients into medications they are uneasy about, medically his research was mostly sound. I will not post or share his name as this is not a blog for or against him personally or professionally. And so I don't misremember, he wasn't inappropriately pushy.

This will be the objective (I hope) journal of my 30 day trial with Vyvanse. It is a way that I can have some sort of record of my experience. For those of you who know me and read me, I would love your feed back, especially if you see me a lot and notice any changes, negative or positive, that could be attributed to medication. My family is under strict orders to flush the meds if I seem unnaturally agitated or anxious after a few days of adjustment, or if I get weird, bad-edgy, lethargic, stupid, or turn into a Stepford Wife. My daughter is under strict order to shoot Derek and flush the meds if I become a Stepford Wife and he doesn't let on. My kids have permission to go stay at grandma's (any grandma's, preferably in another state) if they hear me complain about the wire hangers. (I don't like them for my clothes because you get shoulder-nipples in your sweaters, but they come in handy when I lock myself out of my car, an unfortunate and frequent habit of ADHD people. But really, they're just wire hangers. If I get freaky about it...)

If you are afraid of me for any reason and don't want to honestly tell me how you feel about my decision or any side effects you notice, you can tell Derek and he will anonymously post for you. That way, I'm getting feedback. I promise as your friend not to hold any comments against you or take offense for what you say. I don't need any help adjusting my personality, so this is not an opportunity for you to "fix" things about me that you didn't like before. I will know. And I will find you. I might add that I'm not sure this is the best time for strong negative opinions; if you feel you need to be ugly, then come to me personally and I'll show you why God gives some of us red hair, and why you're really lucky we're only 1% of the world. Seriously, though, I appreciate your honest opinion stated in love for me, your dear friend. Any fears about my taking medication are appreciated and understood, but you can't possibly be more concerned or worried than I am. Rest assured that I have been praying and seeking counsel, researching diligently, and have multiple plans with family and medical and mental health professionals in place should anyone (who knows me intimately) see any problems. Really, that is all the further you need to read unless you're interested in the minutae and tedium of what happened today. Should you decide to read on, note the following disclaimer-it may not be appropriate for the genteel with its vague hormonal references, and really, it's pretty dull and basically just a personal medical record of sorts. Absent the details, of course. I would be happy (probably disproportionately so) to answer any questions you have about ADHD as a medical issue (not at all psychological, though it has many mental and psychosocial manifestations) as it is a totally exciting, fascinating, and bewildering thing. But then, I kind of have this obsessive self-focus thing going on.

OK, so day one. I picked up my medication and even though the pharmacist said I should start fresh in the morning, I went ahead and took a pill this afternoon. One GLARING warning of this medication, which the counselor, prescribing MD and, disappointingly even the pharmacist deny, is a tendency toward addiction. This is an issue I will take up with them at my follow-up appointments. At about 5pm, a few hours after I took it, I did feel a little euphoria which was not at all unpleasant. I was seeing patients in their homes (literally, not hallucenogenically) and felt rather happy to see them, and extremely chatty. This is my way, to be chatty, but not with an elated euphoric feeling. If you've ever taken an opiate drug for pain (Lortab, Vicodin, hydrocodone, Percocet...) and LIKED it, this very much mimics the euphoric effects in strength but not duration. An addict may be prone to try and recapture or extend that feeling by over-dosing (not overdosing). Derek will be handling my pills for the duration of the experiment, because while I don't feel any kind of need or desire to take another pill, I rather liked the warmth and general feeling of well-being. By 5:15 I was merrily on my way home from my last patient's house about 5 miles from my own. Strangely, I chose to take South Western, which is best avoided at all times, but especially at this time. I had gone a full 2 miles when I realized I was going 35 mph behind an old man, contentedly tapping my fingers on the seat with no music playing. 3 extremely uncharacteristic traits-driving slowly without feeling road rage (the mild kind, not the murderous kind) drumming happily to no music, and not needing music blaring to take the edge off. Classic rock. BobFM or 107.7. Just in case you were wondering. I then realized that I felt hyper-aware of stuff going on around me: I noticed the car in front of me braking, felt the lanes around me that were clear or congested, and just had a level-headed feeling. I am an edgy, fast, and fairly dangerous driver. A recent news story said that there were questions about whether or not ADHD people were safe behind the wheel. For us, yes. For you, honestly, I have to say not. In my case, I have had several speeding tickets (I honestly do not feel I am going that fast, especially on open roads with little traffic, including rush hour) and a couple of accidents.

Well, by 6ish, I had come home and showered, (it's a nurse thing, I think) and Derek, who was off today, called me to dinner. Yes, we have Stepford Husband days. I came to eat the most perfect spicy grilled chicken on baby spring mix salad, with a corn and black bean dip and chips, and as of now, 9:10pm, I have been picking at a moderate serving for almost two hours. This is good food, and I have little appetite.

My kids have gone to their rooms because I am feeling this uncomfortable anxious feeling and things (noise, movement, activity) are getting on my nerves. It could be hormonal which is appropriate today (sorry guys-you were warned) or it could be because I have had a very long and exciting couple of days. Yesterday was chaotic and exciting, then as I began preparing for my appointment today, I called an old friend from my ER days who is a drug counselor and one of the most honest people I've ever known. We haven't spoken in about 3 years, since I left the ER and a little after, and I was devestated to learn he'd lost his battle with cancer. Last year. No one would have known to call me, so I can't be angry, but I cried myself to sleep with this tremendous sense of loss. I took melatonin as usual but couldn't sleep until around midnightish, and woke around 5:30. I say all that because on a good, busy ADHD day it isn't abnormal to have a type of depression or "day after Christmas" let down, and since I've been on sensory overload since about 9am yesterday, I could be facing that. Kind of like marathon runners who get depressed after finishing a race they've been preparing for.

See what I mean about chatty?

Right now, I think the agitation is wearing off. I looked at my plate just now sitting beside me and saw this strange wavy pattern, sort of like the reflection of fan blades, but not. Maybe more like gas fumes, but just on my plate. Ashton finally came back in to talk to me and I didn't feel at all bothered by her. That's not hormonal. Hormonal is all day. I've either chilled out from my long day, or it's the med wearing off.

I don't feel at all sleepy so I'm going to double up on my melatonin tonite to be sure I get a good night's sleep, and then start again in the morning. I can't believe how much I've written. This is like ADHD hyperfocus, but I can't say it's as great as hyperfocus, yet. We'll see when I am taking these pills regular. If so, look for my novel to be out later this fall.

Agitation is gone, strange vision has gone, and I feel kind of normal. My face has been twitchy for about two hours. I forgot to mention that. I feel like I could stay and write but I really need to make myself get on a good sleep schedule.

A Significant Distinction

I was watching The Early Show while getting ready for work this morning and Bill Maher was discussing his new movie, "Reliculous" with Harry Smith, about ridiculous religion. I agree that we have our ridiculous ideals about how things should be, and while our actions are wrong, our motives are basically right-to want the world to be saved. At one point, Harry Smith said something to the affect of wanting Christians to actually act like Christ, and just love people, and Bill Maher agreed.

I got to thinking. It would be perfect if we'd all pull our heads out of our by-laws and book of don'ts and began to get active in the world and show some love. But the stark reality is that many people, while they say they want love, want simply a blind eye.

My children, when they were small, would be so angry at me for stopping them from doing things that would hurt them. Oh, they would scream as if I had caused them physical pain with the word 'no'. They were impetuous, and couldn't understand my love for them.

Not to call the people of this world children, but how many would really change if we showed them true unconditional love?

Does this require me to be parental, helping to guide someone to The Truth? Yes, I believe it does. Does this allow me to be militant, and a keeper of the law, passing out judgment to all who would dare to break a rule, or even bend one? No, I think not. The thing is, I can never know for sure how the world will react to God's love thru me unless I'm willing to show it.

I believe that for the most part the world genuinely wants love. But I also believe that there are impetuous people who would define that love as turning a blind eye.

Live by example, love unconditionally, and remember I'm not responsible for the action or reaction of another. I have my marching orders.

A Perfect Morning at Work

Chaos. Disorder. Everything flying at me, not a chance to rest. Continuous interuptions and demands for my immediate attention. The morning seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes. And then stopped.

I look at my IN box knowing that I have more to do, but unless it's flying right at my head, I can't seem to find the motivation to go on. So I glare at the papers and they just sit there, no matter how ferocious my gaze.

I know that lack of motivation is not and excuse. It is a reason. So I'm going to try my best and conquer a small part of my mess at record time and hope that I find something urgent that has to be done yesterday.

Then there's the "are you kidding me" days...

10 applicants. 5 were felons. 3 had no driver's license. Of the two remaining, one didn't carry car insurance and the other showed up with a child for the interview. I had to make the one return when she chose to get legal, and the other I had a ball interviewing.

If I asked you, "describe a typical day," you would regale me with stories of the things you do in your day-to-day life, or just your basic...typicalness. But when I asked this lady to describe a typical day, she actually answered, "Oh, warm and sunny."

I waited for, like, twenty full seconds for the rest of the story. When I realized that was it, I had a belly laugh begin to roll up into my throat. I couldn't speak for fear of laughing out loud. I looked down at my notes and pretended to thoughtfully write, but really it took me some time to compose myself. I finished the rest of the interview smiling big, just ready to get her out the door so I could laugh!

Wow. Where are all the good ones? 2 marginal new employees out of 10. Sigh.

I hired her. I need a laugh.

Hmphf

I am taking melatonin, a hormone that occurs naturally in the body to make us sleep. In the instance of someone whose pineal gland doesn't produce it, you would find someone who doesn't sleep well and is cranky much of the time.

New problem. I wake easier, happier, and can get things together quicker, but by midafternoon my hyperactivity level soars. It's like I got too much sleep and caffeine. I can't focus, I'm extremely fidgety, and get agitated about silly things, like verbal instructions, any comments that seem to question my abilities, or the fact that coffee won't stay hot for 2 hours. Right now I am hitting a place where I feel physically and emotionally beat, but mentally I am still spinning. I don't know what to do with this.

I love how much sleep I'm getting-or rather quality sleep I'm getting. I don't know if it contributes to the afternoon hyperactivity or in contrast makes me more aware of it.

I don't care, I just need to find an outlet. I may start taking workout clothes to the gym at the office and running from 1pm to 2pm. I may lose weight and get relaxed and refocused. Or I may get sweaty and offensive, I don't know.

Okee dokee. Time to make dinner. Yes, this late. I ate a late lunch.

Bye, now!

My Frontal Lobe

Finally, a scientific explaination for my head!

The frontal cortex of the brain is what controls impulse, organization, and motivation. Glucose (brain-fuel) is what kicks it into gear. My brain does not have a properly functioning glucose-secretion system (or something like that) and so when I try to concentrate, my brain goes to sleep. No joke! So telling me to focus is like telling the fat kid in gym to run faster. It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not able. I act primarily within the lymbic system-by emotion. This explains my ease in working in an emergency room. I simply react to all that goes on around me. Because of a lack of impulse control, I will say what comes to my mind without thinking of the implications of this action. So if I've ever said anything stupid or rude to you, I totally didn't mean it. This is also why when something funny comes to mind, no matter how inappropriate it is, I'll say it out loud. That's why I entertain you people so much. That's why you people get me at parties, not so much at work.

I don't have a filter!

Turns out, they make pills for that. I have been researching them for two days straight and I still cannot get on board with it. I understand the positives, but the negatives! I'm not sure it's a good trade.

I'm continuing to have the feeling that disorganziation and lack of focus and impulse control are actually not MY problem. Given free reign of my life, I find that I really don't mind it so much. For those of you who have a problem with me, I'm sorry if my behaviour affects you negatively. I certainly don't intend to be a burden on you-but I cannot compromise myself and take a pill for you, so that you'll feel better about me. I hope you understand that I will find a way to cope, and that I'm making it just fine in the world-even though no one actually reads my blog. That's probably a good thing right about now. If you are reading me, thank you, and welcome, and know that I'm not angry. In fact, I feel pretty good right about now.

I'm not at all hostile toward anyone. I really love people. Except teachers. They really don't get me. Wait, some of my dearest peeps are teachers. So just the ones who pass judgement on me. I don't like that.

So here's my decision, subject to change as soon as I post: meds are not for me. Thank you for reading.

Do not drive Rhino

I am experiencing visual disturbances. I do this a lot, but sometimes it's funny. A few days ago I was driving to work, and saw a sign that said "Do not drive Rhino". I couldn't make sense of it in my head and so I turned and looked back. What I saw was a small sign that said "Do not drive on shoulder" and in the distance behind it a large sign advertising Rhino Linings, bed liners for the back of your truck. Somehow my brain put the two together.

Then yesterday we were at work watching TV during lunch. Rachel Ray was preparing something with raw hamburger but I really wasn't watching. We were all talking. As I turned and looked at my co-worker I saw her put a chunk of watermelon-exactly the same color as raw hamburger-in her mouth. My reaction was one of disgust and horror-for a second-until I realized what my brain had done.

That's just crazy.

Have you ever been eating breakfast with milk and orange juice, and while looking at the milk accidentally picked up the oj and drank it, and freaked out? Or is that just me?

Alone with my thoughts

My thoughts are spaghetti. I'm not a waffle tonite. I never am, but tonite I feel particularly random. That's ok. I don't have to answer to anyone right now.

Today I began counseling-finally following up on my ADD diagnosis from five years ago. The diagnosis was a relief. Today, talking about it with an impartial someone who has knowledge of it, I feel mostly hopeful with a side order of apprehension. From the start I have been 100% against medication, opting for diet and behavior modification, but it doesn't seem to work. Now faced with a choice again, I'm waning. I wonder, what if I could be normal? And in the same thread, do I want to be?

All the what-ifs are there. What if I turn into a lethargic blob on the couch? What if I sleep all the time like my friend? What if I become this really fabulously organized but totally boring person? What if I lose the creativity, the zany humor, the easy laughter? Would that be a worse me, or even me at all? What if my writing suffered? What of passion and drive? What of adventure? Am I so tired of disorganization and lack of focus and motivation that I would compromise ME to have that?

My thoughts right now are that this is a Jekkyl and Hyde decision; the birth of one is the death of the other. I may be way off base about that. If I could keep both, I would be all for it. Mostly. The side effects seem minimal, but still frightening.

Logically, I have a biological problem that calls for medical intervention. Emotionally, I don't want to deal with this right now. Spiritually, if I am fearfully and wonderfully made, maybe there's a purpose in all of this and disorganization is my thorn. Wouldn't it be funny if we got to Heaven and asked Paul what the thorn in his flesh was, and we find out he actually had a thorn?

Dramatically, I am Batman standing above the city, (even though I'm a girl) and the wind is whipping my cape all around in the darkness. I am alone there with my tortured thoughts, glaring into the night. I want to give this all away and just be normal. But maybe the world needs my brand of hero. (This makes me feel good, and these are MY thoughts, as they occur to me. In my spaghetti.)

Humor is the easiest way to deal with this right now because even alone at the keyboard, I'm not as alone as I'll be when I go to bed in a moment and dissolve in a self-piteous flood of tears. There. That's the chink in my armor: a desperate longing just to feel like I'm not a failure as a woman and mom and wife; to be like the other women with their nicely decorated clean homes and who balance their checkbooks without throwing them across the room. That longing is warring with the strong opinion (opinions being a Chenoweth family birthright)that I'm pretty ok like I am, and my friends and family love me, my husband adores me, and the rest of the world can just go on tolerating me because I'm living life my way. (Cue music...)

But I hate the exasperated looks-from people who expect more of me, who don't get why I can't just pull it together and finish this task. I hate sensing that people are tolerating me, and after the antics aren't so funny anymore, I see their frustration or disappointment. I wonder, am I too old to have this crisis?

And I just keep hearing it in my head: fearfully and wonderfully made. He knew me. Long before I was knit together in the secret place. My name is tattooed on His hand. I wouldn't get a tattoo on my hand for just anyone. Neither would He. So I must be special.

Normal. Funny. Distinct and seperate, or can they cohabitate peacefully in the same body?

Wonderfully, even.