Tiny Poetry – Ask Me for My Number

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Ask me for my number
and I’ll give you
my IQ.

(Poetry by Maranda Russell, marandarussell.com)

Depression and Gun Ownership

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For at least a year or two now, I have been debating with my husband whether we should get a handgun for home protection. You see, I have an intense fear of home invasions. I often have nightmares about it. I think part of it may stem from being robbed at gunpoint when I was 17 years old. Or maybe some of it comes from living in several areas over my lifetime that were crime ridden in one way or another. A history of physical abuse and c-ptsd certainly doesn’t help either.

That is why I believe that I might feel a little more safe with a handgun in the house (most likely locked up in a safe). My husband worries about keeping a loaded gun in the house though because of my intense periods of depression. I have bipolar type 2, and while I have never had a psychotic episode, have never tried to commit suicide, and do not think I am generally a danger to myself, my husband has seen me go through some extreme emotional lows that worried him. He fears that if we had a loaded gun in the house there is always the possibility that in a moment of intense depression I might make a rash decision.

I am thinking that perhaps I should discuss the possibility with my therapist and psychiatrist. I know both of them have said they do not think I would ever actually commit suicide. Personally, I agree that I am very unlikely to commit suicide unless my husband died and I was somehow left all alone without any help in the world. I do not think I could kill myself unless the prospect of living genuinely became worse than death. I also would not want to cause anyone who cares about me pain, as I know first hand what it is like to lose someone close to suicide.

Why Doctors Frustrate Me – Trying to Get Testing Done

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I want to begin this post by sharing a horrible dream I had last night. I was sitting in row G of a live outdoor show (my dreams are pretty specific sometimes), when someone behind me threw up all over my head. It was disgusting! I still remember the smell and feel of the vomit as it trickled down my face and hair. Ick! By the way, how do you “smell” things in a dream? I don’t know, but I sure did!

Ok, now that I got that off my chest, on to the main topic of this post. I am frustrated with doctors. Why? Because time and time again, I have had to fight to get testing that I feel is important, because many doctors tend to think I am just being a hypochondriac or overly anxious when I tell them I suspect a particular diagnosis.

However, time and time again, I have been proven RIGHT when I finally got the testing. C Diff, MRSA, medication allergies, asthma, CFS, fibromyalgia, costochondritis, pancreatitis, Aspergers, bipolar…all of these are conditions I highly suspected long before I actually got diagnosed, and yet, I had to fight to even get them checked out because doctors thought I was just being paranoid.

The most recent testing I am fighting for is Ehlers Danlos (EDS). I meet the major and most of the minor criteria for the condition, but have been fighting to even get a referral for testing. EDS is often comorbid with high-functioning autism, so that is what first made me interested in the condition. I am positive I score at least 6 or 7 out of 9 on the Beighton Score (higher on the Brighton Score).

I guess I can sum up this post in one sentence: Why is it so damn hard to get a simple test done???