Bipolar Bear

MS and my spirit animal

For this post I offer you a vision into an overheated MS brain and a potential new diagnosis.  But first, some history.

When I moved several months ago I had to change pharmacies.  Trust me when I say this was a HUGE deal. I mean, the grocery store pharmacy in Harwich was a whole ten miles from the grocery store pharmacy in Orleans.

The reason why this is relevant is because the new pharmacy re-filled my RX Citalopram for thirty days and put it in a bigger pill bottle; a bottle that came with a super hard to open cap.

Each morning I struggled to get my 2 tablets until I got the brilliant idea to not secure the cap.  I lived alone and the few kids that visited me couldn’t reach the cabinet I kept my RXS in- what could possibly go wrong?

The next morning, as I reached for the bottle, I promptly dropped it and spilled half of the pills on the counter, in the sink and down the drain.

I was annoyed but saved what I could.

For those that don’t know Citalopram is the generic form of Celexa for which I was told years ago I should take 2 20mg tablets a day.  I don’t even remember why.

Anxiety over my diagnosis?

A tendency towards depression?

Who knows?

I wasn’t about to deal with insurance to compensate for the pills I wasn’t able to rescue. Who can cope with that nightmare?  I decided I would just take one until it was time for a refill.

Such a little thing- dropping important meds down the sink.  Such a simple solution- avoid aggravation and do nothing.

Fast forward to the nightmare that is MS and a particular day in the life.  As the humidity this summer continues, so do, my bizarre mood swings.  And I realized that I’m getting even more emotional than usual which is usually pretty emotional.

I’m Portuguese- we can’t help it.

This one hot, muggy day found me ecstatic.   I received confirmation that a friend was taking me to see Peter Wolf– a free concert at the end of the summer- Woo Hoo!

Then I got a check in the mail I didn’t even know about.  $14.50 richer?  Bring on the parade and the party!!! Spend $100 on fireworks! Life is good!!

But soon, yet another person close to me compared their dislike of humidity to mine, their discomfort to my complete depletion.

And it really, really ticked me off.

It used to be rage caused me to freak out but this rage was so intense it only made me cry in frustration.

I’m not trying to own summer misery (though I might remind everyone that I have yet to complain in winter,) but cut me some slack.

MS + heat + humidity + me is a miserable combination of unthinking, no breathing, achy, comatose misery.

(Yes, I used both misery and miserable-I’m talking mood swings here so don’t correct me or I will bite your head off!)

Speaking of biting heads off there was also a report of a shark bite nearby.  That caused me to check my shark app and notice the great whites are getting closer.  And I’m supposed to take a nephew to the beach next week.  Now what????

This concern overwhelmed me and with that, any good moods were officially gone.

I was hot, and desperately longing for ice and snow.

Somewhere in this mess I concluded that these mood swings were too just extreme- how could this be?  It was then that it came together.

I diagnosed myself as bipolar.

How could I have not noticed this before?

The internet confirmed it.

Were my symptoms previously just a dirty sink drain away from manifesting?

I’d never really thought much about bipolar before.  Suddenly it seemed likely.

Still hot and volatile all I could process of my self-diagnosis was the polar part with a desperation to hibernate through the humidity.

My spirit animal must be a polar bear!!!

Perhaps I’ll name him Ralph.

Who cares if they only hibernate in the winter?  Ralph and I march to the beat of a different, cooler drummer.

This self-diagnosis wasn’t enough for me and I take my blog very seriously.

It was time for some more research.

I took an online quiz and the results showed that my spirit animal is actually a turtle.

Well, what the hell do those internet folks know?

If they got my spirit animal wrong, perhaps the internet research I did on mental health and MS, the one where I read that people with multiple sclerosis have an increased risk of depression and bipolar disorder, is also wrong?

Perhaps not.

Or, perhaps I was just having a super emotional day.

Perhaps I should have called the new pharmacy, reamed them out for the child proof, MS proof cap and asked for pills to replace the ones that dissolved into the water droplets in my sink.

I don’t know.

The one thing about MS I do know is that I don’t know a thing about MS.

But since the mood swings seem to have greatly increased in intensity I figure I have 3 options-

 

1. Blast the most obnoxious rock music on my cd player and ignore it

 

2. Continue my intense internet research (I think there is a quiz on which rock band you should listen to if you’re majorly distressed.)

Or,

3. Keep my sense of humor about me and discuss it with my doctor

 

If you were me, what would you do?

PS

Here’s an “it only could happen to Yvonne” adventure story for you, my friends.

You may know that NY Times best-selling author and former CNN producer Richard M. Cohen wrote an endorsement for my book.   (If you’re thinking, book, what book, please see sidebar for info about MS Madness! A “Giggle More, Cry Less” Story of Multiple Sclerosis which happens to be for sale on sale on Amazon and other major book channels.)

Though Mr. Cohen did me this great kindness and has a summer home not far from me, I had yet to meet him in person.  When I found out he and his lovely wife Meredith Viera were doing a speaking event I had to go.

After their talk they were signing copies of his new book, Chasing Hope.  I got in line.   They sat on a stage about a foot high.  The people in front of me stepped onto the stage to better talk to them.

When it was almost my turn I forgot about my clumsiness, my left leg weakness and my lack of balance.  I too got on the stage, though not very gracefully, only to almost fall directly in front of Meredith, who happened to be wearing a boot due to a minor mishap of her own.

Despite that, it was the famous and classy Meredith Viera who helped me to my feet, checked if I was ok and then signed my book “to my fellow klutz.”

And that, my friends, is how Ralph and I finally got to meet Richard M. Cohen and Meredith Viera.