Prozac blues?

Here I am at daft o'clock again. I've been hitting the keys around 3am quite a few times lately in a bid to tire myself out enough to go back to sleep. I'm beginning to think it may have something to do with coming off Prozac, especially as this weekend I haven't been my usual self. I've had long lie-ins on Saturday and Sunday, unusual for me, and felt more like my old anti-social self on Saturday night. Of course, that may have just been the inevitable consequence of being the only sober one surrounded by inebriated aging rock'n'rollers! Yesterday I felt quite flat, it took some doing just to keep going. Is it a coincidence that I'm now down to one Prozac tablet every fourth day? With the recent good weather, we've been concentrating on the garden, with the result that the house is a tip but I can't seem to motivate myself to clean it up.

Going back to bed now.

checking in

• mum is now 4 stones 9.5 pounds (65.5). Blood tests found too much calcium (is her body cannabilising itself to survive, eating up the bones?) so the doctor has stopped her digoxin (don't know what the link is) and doubled her anti-depressant (I'm hoping it stimulates her appetite). I was asked what I thought about referring her to hospital. I said it would be a bad move, she hated it in hospital last time and still lost weight through not eating and drinking. In hospital they just dump the food and leave at mealtimes. At least in the home she is in familiar surroundings and the staff will encourage her to eat. Hope I made the right decision.
• I did cycle to and from work on Thursday - 2.5 miles each way. Oh my poor knees. Oh my poor bum! I did say 'never again' but I'll persevere and try again next week. I've been told you can get special ladies' saddles, designed to be kind to our tender parts so am on a quest to find a good one.
• I've lost 15 pounds in 10 weeks with Slimming World! That's an average of 1.5 pounds a week and if I can keep it up, I'll hit my target of losing 3 stones in time for our holiday in mid August.
• I'm down to one Prozac tablet every third day and doing just fine. Will be completely off them in three weeks' time!

rapids ahead

Well I chose a great time to come off Prozac. I think mum is on her way out. Its nearly 4 am and I haven't the energy to think up a softer way of saying that. Sorry if it sounded too blunt. I've been feeling very unsettled since the care home phoned yesterday afternoon to tell me that they'd had to call the doctor out as mum had refused to eat or drink anything all weekend. She now weighs 4 stones 12 (68 pounds), has low blood pressure and is very wobbly on her feet, falling into things all the time. The doctor decided it would not be in mum's best interests to admit her to hospital, thank goodness - she hated being in hospital and it would only confuse her more to take her out of her now familiar surroundings. The doctor told the staff she thought the not eating and drinking was symptomatic of mum's increasing dementia so I guess its unlikely that things are going to improve much from now on. I tried phoning the doctor to get more information but couldn't get through.

I left work early last night and went to see mum. She'd been in bed all day. The carers were just making her comfortable when I arrived. She was awake but didn't seem to recognise me - she didn't speak, other than to say 'no' when I asked her if she'd like a chocolate, hoping to tempt her into eating something. The staff said she hadn't spoken all weekend. She soon closed her eyes and they stayed shut while I drank the cup of tea the staff had brought me. I couldn't tell whether she was asleep or just resting. I couldn't talk to her, I would have had to shout for her to hear me and it didn 't seem right when she looked so tired. Instead I stroked her hair and sat close by for a while. What happens next? Uncharted territory. Going back to bed now :-(

I spoke too soon?

Maybe I am feeling some after effects of coming off the Prozac - I have been feeling intermittently restless the past few days and today's post-prandial nap turned into a marathon (which is why I am still up at this ungodly hour) and when I finally surfaced, I felt distinctly unwell - headachey and tight-chested. Then again it could be the upheaval downstairs - Mr Lily has finally bought himself a reclining chair and has been sorting out the accumulated clutter in the front room to accommodate it. Its taken 2 days and we're still not finished, you should see the dust on the carpet where one of the sofas used to be! OK I'm off to bed now.

Saturday morning, just before dawning...

This itching is driving me mad! It starts to come on mid-evening and continues through to morning, often waking me up in the early hours, like today. Anti-histamines and moisturising cream only work sometimes, I'm going to have to ask my doctor for something else. Ah well, you win some, you lose some - 10 pounds in 7 weeks! I'm loving the Slimming World plan - really enjoying choosing and shopping for the week's meals then cooking fresh food every day. Mr Lily thinks its great too, he's lost 12 pounds so far. You'd think a healthier diet would help my skin, maybe I'm allergic to onions and garlic which feature heavily in most recipes, lol. I can get into a size smaller skirts and jeans now and the folks at work are always commenting on my weight loss and how well I look, although I think the latter is more in comparison with how worn out I was before mum went into the home. Coming off the Prozac seems to be going well, I'm now down to a tablet every other day and not experiencing any problems. In fact, I find I'm enjoying life more these days - I often sing 'I'm aitch-A-pee-pee-why, I'm-aitch-A-pee-pee-why' to myself at random moments, finding delight in the simplest of things.

Mum is still disappearing, both in size and from the real world. Lovely daughter and I took her a card, flowers and chocolates on Mother's Day, she enjoyed it but didn't seem to grasp what was going on, I'm not even sure she knows I'm her daughter any more but she does appreciate my going to see her every week. I'm a bit concerned that she might not be getting as much care in the home as I'd like - when we went on Mother's Day, we found her in the lounge without her teeth in and no cardigan - she's such a tiny scrap of a thing now and has always felt the cold. There doesn't seem to have been any progress in getting her a new hearing aid either - goodness only knows what happened to the old one. Communication at anything less than umpteen decibels is very difficult, she must miss out on so much. Still, she seems relatively settled there, she still says she wishes she could go 'home' but is placated by my telling her 'when you're better'. The Court of Protection application is getting there, just had to pay over £650 to the solicitor for various fees and the paperwork is now completed and on its way. Half of that was the charge for the 'failed' Lasting Power of Attorney attempt - the 2 hours the solicitor spent getting the papers together only to be dismissed by a stroppy mum when he visited her at the home.

I'm hoping this weekend will be productive - the Slimming World regime has inspired me to start growing my own food- I've bought a small greenhouse and am going to plant 12 different types of herbs and a wide selection of salad leaves tomorrow. We've also ordered blueberries, chillies, garlic, peppers and other stuff I can't remember from a seed company and will plant them out in pots in the garden once they've established in the greenhouse. I'm getting quite good at using the exercise bike whilst watching TV and this weekend hope to sort my bike out so that I can start cycling to work next week. I'm determined to reach my target of 8 stones 11 pounds by the time I go on holiday in August - that will mean I've lost 3 stones!

PS...I've beaten my Farmville addiction!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the news at 4

Well here I am at daft o'clock again, driven from my cosy bed by Mr Lily's fight with his sleep apnoea machine. What with his gurgling and gasping and its whooshing, it sounds like happy hour at the hippopotamus bar. In a moment or two I'll head on over to Farmville (definitely OCD, lol) but thought I'd better log the Incredible Shrinking Lilys' progress first. After a good start at Slimming World and slavishly following the plan, our third weigh-in was a big disappointment - we'd both put on half a pound! I found hunger between main meals was my problem, and went through tons of fruit to keep the pangs at bay. The next week I tried eating a bigger breakfast - the usual porridge and berries but also scrambled egg on toast. That and a 'light' cereal bar for mid-morning and mid-afternoon snacks seemed to leave me much more satisfied and on our fourth weigh-in last week, I'd lost two and half pounds and Mr Lily had lost three! I'm hoping for the same this week, then I'll have lost half a stone.

No change with mum but there is slow progress on the Court of Protection front. I finally managed to get all the financial information together and complete my part of the paperwork. The solicitor has written to mum's doctor for her report and to mum's bank with a copy of the first invoice from the home, asking them to pay it . I'm hopeful that things will get going now. Lovely daughter and I are going to see mum today and take her some toiletries and sweets. Dementia can be a blessing. Mum always used to say that if she couldn't keep herself clean, she wouldn't want to live. Thank goodness she's mostly oblivious to the fact that she often has 'accidents' now and needs someone to help her on and off the toilet. My turn last week - really, its just like caring for an elderly toddler a lot of the time. Sad.

I think our lovely dog may have dementia too, lol. She's nearly fifteen and still full of beans but now doesn't give us her usual signals for when she needs the loo, she tends just to look wistfully at us for a few seconds and then wander off. There have been quite a few 'accidents' (which Mr Lily side steps on account of his 'delicate' stomach, wuss). She's also becoming very 'wandersome' (a phrase I picked up when mum was in hospital) - I'm for ever having to get up to open doors for her as she does a circuit of the house and garden. We love her though and hope she stays with us for a few more years yet.

I've started to come off Prozac. My doctor advised I do it slowly so I've worked out a reduction chart for three months. Fingers crossed.

mum, and me

Mum first. Went to see her last week on my own, how brave was that! Silly but I do get very anxious about visiting her without moral support from lovely daughter - I suppose its the uncertainty of what I'll find, good mood, bad mood, no discernable mood at all. Anyway, it was fine. I found mum in the lounge with the other residents, holding hands with one of the carers! Great introduction - "is this your daughter?" (me - "yes") "eeh, you told me you didn't have any children!" Well, she thinks I'm her sister so in her mind, I suppose she's right. We stayed in the lounge for quite a bit. I was fascinated by the interactions between other residents. One old chap and one of the ladies seemed very fond of each other, they were quite physically affectionate in a tender, low key sort of way. Another lady was holding hands with a guy in a wheelchair, although I don't think he had much choice in the matter!

I persuaded mum to go with me to her room when she started her loud comments about the others - "you see him in the wheelchair? Well you have to be careful if you sit next to him, he strokes your face. He's a pest!...her over there, she's just dumb, poor thing.....I don't like that woman sat next to you at all.." I'd have gone to see her again last night but there's an outbreak of sickness and diarrhoea in the home and mum is one of the afflicted, so I was advised to wait a while. The doctor has seen her and she's doing ok, apparently he asked her to stick her tongue out and she said indignantly "I don't do that!"

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I have turned my attentions to giving Mr Lily some much needed TLC. (Its as though being relieved of constant mum duties, I've caring to spare!) Poor thing is not well at all - lots of back pain and tiredness. I've even started cooking properly again, to his amazement - instead of raiding the freezer for ready meals, I've made double quantities of chicken casserole, vegetable stew and bolognese and frozen my home made efforts for later. I've also rescued the unused breadmaker from the attic - we'd had it years and never opened the box! I am now addicted to making my own bread - probably not a great idea when trying to lose weight, but never mind, lol. Here's my efforts so far - clockwise from top right: wholemeal, granary, white, fennel and raisin - a successful experiment!
Of course there are still some little stress clouds on the horizon. The home is now asking for payment and sent me a contract to sign as guarantor of same, which I've had to tell them my solicitor has advised against signing until the Court of Protection application has been processed successfully. Speaking of which, its unlikely to be any time soon as my solicitor wants me to get updated information on mum's finances which will take a while, judging from the phone calls I made to various building societies today. And then there's the rather scary medication issue. My last prescription for Prozac came back with a note from the doctor who wants to review it before he issues any more. Aaargh! I mean, I don't want to stay on it for ever, it has been a great help and I feel much better, but how much of that is circumstances and how much the medication? I have forewarned my boss, just in case I start acting weird in the near future. Yes, alright then, weirder.

Ye gods, look at the time - 02:12! This is what happens when you're awake at midnight because Mr Lily's sleep apnoea machine is wheezing like an asthmatic walrus and then the dog scratches at the bedroom door to be let out and then you realise you need to take an anti-histamine because the nettle devils are making an appearance and then of course you need a cup of tea to speed up the soothing process and what's a girl to do to fill in the time all this takes?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

After chewy Tuesday, mum's on Thursday was surprisingly easy going. I should have known. She phoned me at work at tea-time today, wanting me to go over and wash her hair. I think it was just an excuse to get me to go round and keep her company. I politely declined - I always spend Fridays with my husband and friends. I offered to wash it for her tomorrow morning. She was angry and put the phone down on me. Now I have this lump of lead behind my ribs leaking anxiety; I baled out of the pub early, I just wasn't in the right frame of mind to socialise.

I will have been on Prozac a year in July. I hope my doctor doesn't decide to take me off it, I seem to remember a 12 month treatment period being mentioned at the beginning.

nine and a half weeks hours

"Moan, moan, poor me, poor me"
(showered mum and washed her hair)

"moan, moan etc."
Found a note in the door from the carer - she'd called at 7.30am, mum's bedroom light was on but she wouldn't answer the door. Mum says they do it deliberately (knock and go) to save themselves a job?! She is going to tell them she doesn't want them to come again. She dozes for 2 hours on the settee.

"moan, moan....shouldn't be living alone.....your dad will be weeping over me...." Poor bugger, I bet he's been dancing a jig for the last 9 years. I keep asking him to call her up but he's ignoring me.

Carers come - ooh, transformation - canny old lady doing her best, smiling in the face of adversity, oh yes, see you again ....

Permutations of the above. Eats minute amounts. Coughs, hawks and inspects the tissue EVERY TIME. I too am coughing, so much so that I am losing my voice and can only croak. Does she notice/care? Does she (provide your own expletive).

I turn on the TV to provide some stimulus/distraction. She turns it back off - she doesn't like the zoo programme (ugly animals), she doesn't like Shrek (ugly cartoon characters). I pick up the crossword and sudoku again.

6pm and the cavalry arrives in the form of lovely daughter. Mum reverts to Dr Jekyll. I take my leave just after 6.30 pm with a promise to return around lunchtime tomorrow. Thank goodness for Prozac.

Prozac comes to the rescue

If it weren't for the magic pills I think I would have spontaneously combusted on Saturday. Lulled into a false sense of security by mum's good mood on Thursday I wasn't expecting the 4' 7" of fury that greated me on my arrival. She'd received her gas bill and was outraged at the amount due. *What had happened was that after several estimated bills (the meter reader tends to knock and run), I rang in the correct reading which was considerably higher than expected, which meant that the direct debit hadn't paid as much off the total as usual.* Mum was convinced that a) I'd read the meter incorrectly so it was my fault, b) the gas company was trying to fleece her and c) they were going to help themselves to the outstanding amount (about £180) from her bank account, none of which were true. Even with her hearing aid in, I couldn't get it through to her that a) I was perfectly capable of reading four numbers off a display and passing them on, b) her gas provider was not trying to diddle her - the bill was the result of *--* and c) the direct debits would continue as usual to chip away at the amount owed. There was much muttering of how her (now deceased) saintly neighbour (a man of course) would have sorted it out and a lot of 'everything happens to poor unlucky me' diatribe. I managed not to lose my cool but resigned myself to a miserable day.

What do you know - no sooner had we set off for Morrisons, than Mrs Hyde was replaced by Doctor Jekyll. Smiles and jokes and pleasant chat! I was used to riding out mum's moods but usually it took a lot longer than this, I was hoping it was a new development that would be the norm from now on. I relaxed. Fatal. Back at the ranch all was going swimmingly until the telephone rang. Expecting the usual nuisance cold call, I was pleasantly surprised to find my Auntie B on the other end of the phone. I haven't spoken to her since my dad's funeral in 1999. I haven't spoken to any of his relatives since the funeral. And not for decades before that. The reason? Mum can't stand them. When I was still a child, she stopped going with dad and me to nana and granddad's every weekend to meet up with the aunts, uncles and cousins. This meant that I stopped too, fearing her displeasure for choosing to spend time with them instead of her. Consequently I have been denied the pleasure and support of an extended family for most of my life. Anyway to get back to Auntie B. She was writing her Xmas cards and wanted to check mum was still at her address as she knew she had been in hospital this time last year. We had a pleasant chat and I went to put mum on the phone as she was hovering close by. When I said (shouted) that it was B and handed her the phone, she pulled a 'nasty taste' face and refused to say anything. I told Auntie B mum didn't have her hearing aid in (fib). Of course this brief contact from the other side started mum off on her usual rant against B and all the slights she imagines she's endured from her over the years. There was no appeasing her so I did the sensible thing and took my leave. I indulged in some calming retail therapy then went home and was in bed by 7.30pm, exhausted.

Wide awake again at 12.30 am, I've sorted laundry out, had a cup of tea and will eventually go back to bed when I'm all blogged out. Ah well, good day ahead - birthday Sunday lunch with about 20 friends, should be fun!

putting a brave face on it

Its not that I'm depressed, the Prozac keeps me from falling into the slough of despond, I'm just not quite right. Hence the short posts, the wee small hours blogging, the finding it preferable to read the paper and watch TV at a gathering of friends yesterday which, telling in itself, I attended sans maquillage. For someone as vain as I, that has got to be a significant indicator of loosening grip. I'm also not enjoying work as much at the moment, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by all that needs to be done. Maybe its just the cumulative effect of too many broken nights' sleep. Have my first appointment with the sleep clinic in a week's time, perhaps that will sort me out.

Prozac - 18 weeks

I've been giving some thought lately to how I'm feeling and if you'd asked me yesterday, I would have said "just like the old me, before the anxiety and panic crept in". But am I? Here I am, doing what I've been doing every morning for goodness knows how long - its as though I can't get on with the day until I've checked my blog for comments, read other people's, followed interesting links, maybe even posted something myself. I could probably get to work an hour earlier on a morning if I didn't switch the computer on. Have I become stuck in an obsessive compulsive blogging rut? Or is it something to do with connecting to other people with similar problems in their lives? Lol, yeah ok, both.

Right, this is silly, its 08:14 and I'm still in my dressing gown. I WILL get ready for work. Any minute now.

Prozac - 17 weeks - the story so far

Well, the fact that I haven't reported on my weekly Prozac progress for quite a while speaks volumes, I suppose! Nothing much has changed. Generally I'm coping ok with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune although have felt a little stressed at work lately because we're going through a hectic patch where everything is priority and needed doing yesterday. I manage ok though, just tell myself that it will all get done sooner or later and ITS ONLY A JOB lol.

I'm getting quite good at adopting the gallic shrug. Like when our beautiful newly decorated hall, on closer inspection, needed touching up where the black paint on the banister had dripped onto the white paint below and the paint on the wall stopped a little short of the door frame, revealing the terracotta underneath. Not to worry - spent quite a pleasant, although fumey, Sunday putting it all to rights. Its going to look gorgeous when finished off with a new carpet. At the risk of boring you, the colour scheme is white paintwork on all the wood except for the black banister and rails and 'Egyptian Cotton' on the (newly skimmed) walls - a lovely, warm, very light grey. I'm thinking a black carpet with lots of flecky bits in it. Should disguise the dog hairs and bits of fluff/crumbs/dead leaves etc!

I think I'm starting to sleep better, perhaps because I've had a few sensible bedtimes - I've even been dreaming - yippee! AND I've found some brilliant charity shop bargains over the last few weeks:

• one deep rose pink long sleeved top, perfect for 'wear pink to work' day a couple of Fridays ago (a few quid)
• one M&S black and white tweedy flirty skirt suit (£8!)
• one 'little black dress' - elegant sleeveless, cowl neck, cut on the bias, black slip dress covered by black chiffon over dress about 4" longer than the slip. Wore it with a lacey coral pink shrug to a 60th birthday party last Saturday and felt the bees knees! (less than a tenner, I think)
• one beautiful Fenn Wright Manson devore top and skirt in shades of grey and pink. Gorgeous bias cut skirt with handkerchief points, I feel like a flapper in it especially with my new hairdo! (£20)
• the most spectacular Precis Petite evening dress and matching stole - I have never owned anything as glam as this - pleated light grey chiffon covered in silver bugle beads, empire line and the hem dipping down into points at the side. The sort of dress you would wear when standing at the prow of a ship with your arms stretched out and a baby-faced 'actor' copping a feel from behind. Definitely a New Year's Eve dress (if I can still fit into it by then.) (£25)

I've probably forgotten a few things but those were the highlights.

Its a quarter to eleven. Goodnight folks!

polishing my halo (and my horns)

Yesterday I washed the plaster dust off the hall floor, stairs and landing (its already looking sooooooooo much better now that all the walls and ceilings have been skimmed) AND I cooked (!!!!!) a lovely lean leg of lamb (did you like the tongue work there?) with HOME MADE red wine and rosemary gravy (!!!!!!!!!!) for Sunday dinner. Himself said it was the best meal I'd cooked all year which was something of a backhanded compliment but hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth. Hmm, I suspect I may be edging towards getting a little high today. Is it the Prozac? Is it me? (Long ago, there used to be odd days when I'd wake up feeling 'dangerous', full of life, confidence and superflirtability.) Probably just as well that I'm going on a training course today instead of going into work - best not to unleash the full force of my zizzyness on a captive audience ;-) *snort* Suppose I'd better get dressed now.

Reflections

This is beginning to feel like the norm, sitting in front of the computer with a cup of tea at daft o'clock in the morning, this time precipitated by a hot flush, husband's snoring and an empty tummy. It's lovely and peaceful here in my back room, with the just the table lamp lit. Husband and daughter are asleep, our sweet little dog has just been out and rather stiffly climbed the stairs back to bed, a little damp from the light rain. The only sounds are the whirr of the hard drive fan and the blood singing in my ears.

I'm feeling quite content. I managed to clear some tasks this afternoon before going to pick beloved son up from Darlington station; so good to see him on top form again after all the stress he's been under recently. All's quiet on the crazy ex-girlfriend front and he's just been promoted at work so is buzzing from the upturn in his fortunes. He has a fun weekend in front of him, richly deserved - paintballing with his sister (the brave organiser!) and pals tomorrow, then over to Manchester for a friend's 30th birthday. It's always a blessing to have him home - living in Nottingham, he can't afford to come up more than a few times a year and I'm afraid we're hopeless at organising trips down to see him.

In a funny way, I'm rather glad about my depression diagnosis. Without it, I wouldn't be on Prozac and feel happier and calmer in myself which I'm sure has helped me relate better to mum, has made me feel cherished by my daughter who always makes sure I'm ok and, just maybe, has had an impact on my relationship with my husband. I feel closer to him than ever before, he's been very gentle with me and probably now realises why he has been married to an occasionally crazy woman over the last few years! After 31 years together, it's easy to take each other for granted, settle into a routine and lose touch with the feelings that brought you together in the first place. I haven't always have been able to say this over the years, but hand on heart, I love him and am glad he's always going to be a part of my life.

The best laid plans....

• Never got round to watching Ladies in Lavender, thanks to the computer's siren call, but was disciplined enough to go to bed at 10pm. Was woken up somewhere between 1 and 2am by persistent itching so I applied moisturiser and made myself a cup of tea. I had intended watching LiL but when I turned on the TV there was a subtitled Spanish film on, 'The Sea Inside', which turned out to be mesmerising. (I love foreign films but can't abide dubbed versions. I much prefer to hear the original actors' voices, even if I can't understand everything they're saying.) The actors gave moving performances of the true story of a fisherman who was paralysed from the neck down in a diving accident and who, after spending years dependent on others to take care of him, decided to fight for the right to die. His legal challenge failed but he ended his life by taking cyanide. I went back to bed when the film finished at 3.20.
  
  
• Up itchy again at 6.30, determined to tell my doctor I wanted to come off Prozac because of the side effects. He kindly but firmly advised me against it, explaining that such a course of action could take me right back and possibly to worse than I had been in the past. He was certain that my itchiness and skin problems were not indicative of a drug-related rash but the discoid eczema flaring up again (linked to stress/depression) and has given me another short course of steroid tablets and some heavy duty steroid cream. He has booked me in for a fasting blood test on Friday to check whether there's anything else going on that could cause my tiredness, eg underactive thyroid or anaemia. I rather hope the tests find something that can be treated and cured.
  
  

Called in at work on my way home this morning and relayed above to my lovely sympathetic boss who saw beyond my I'm-ok-just-a-bit-flat facade - I had to admit I did feel quite low. I have decided to take the rest of the week off as I'm too dull-brained and tired to cope with work. LSB has offered to arrange independent counselling for me, I'm tempted.... what do you think? I'm nervous of sharing intimate secrets with a stranger.

Lol, I've just re-read the last bit and realised that's exactly what I've been doing in this blog! Of course, there are some some sensitive issues I don't write about and I suppose those are the things I'm wary of bringing to a counsellor; I've never been keen on worms, in or out of the can.

Putting the training into practice ;-)

Well, on my own cycle of change I guess I've motivated myself to move from the contemplative stage (I'm feeling physically worse as time goes on and it seems to be linked to the medication), to the decision making stage (can't allow this to go on any longer, must do something about it), to the action stage (made an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow). The galvanising factor was how exhausted I felt today. I'm walking at a snail's pace everywhere, could fall asleep at the drop of a hat (where does that expression come from?) and felt quite light-headed this morning. I waited until after the free lunch to make my apologies (I may be poorly but I'm not daft!) and went home to bed, dropping in on mum on the way to take her a loaf of bread and some milk.

Mum seems very concerned by my wilting flower impression. The cynic in me says it's due to self-interest - a while back when I had a breast cancer scare that turned out to be something completely different, she said "I'm glad you're ok .... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you" and today has been listing the tasks she has lined up for me. However, I have to say she does seem genuinely caring and has twice offered to come and look after me, ahh bless. (I used to quite like being ill as a child, confined to bed with lucozade, dad's home-made jigsaws and plenty of books and comics to read.) I haven't told her about the depression - she wouldn't understand and she would probably find it hurtful, that I believed looking after her is probably the major causal factor.

Right then, having had a good sleep this afternoon, I'm going to have a relaxing evening and hopefully a good night's sleep. Lovely daughter has bought me a magazine and licorice and I plan on finally watching Ladies in Lavender. Fingers crossed the doctor can sort me out tomorrow.

Prozac - unlucky 13 weeks?

Things are definitely getting worse on the tiredness, eczema and itching front, it's really getting me down. At least my distressed skin was hidden under clothing before, but now the rough patches are spreading, including onto the back of my hands. I can't bear the thought that it might spread to my face - I know, I'm vain. I've checked the extensive side-effects list for Prozac and it includes lethargy, rash, itching and dry mouth (frequent thirstiness is also something new for me that I've noticed recently). I have to go to the surgery this morning to collect my repeat prescription so I'm going to try to book an appointment with a doctor asap to discuss changing to a different anti-depressant.

In memoriam

My dad died on 11 October 1999. I was at mum's today for the usual Saturday shopping challenge; she was oblivious to the significance of the date. I didn't remind her, I couldn't face the inevitable conspiracy theories directed against the doctors/hospital - she's convinced that if he hadn't had his triple bypass operation, he would be alive today. He wouldn't, he had a heart attack the day before he was hospitalised and another the morning of his operation. It was heart disease and arterial sclerosis that killed him but mum's convinced it was the kidney infection that saw him off or that the bypass operation was botched. I miss him. Hope he thinks I'm being a good (enough) daughter.

Still weary 50% of the time, to the extent that I sent my boss an e-mail on Friday, apologising for not having got round to writing a report she needed for next week. Must mention it to my GP as I think it may be a side-effect of the Prozac. Alternatively, maybe the medication has just taken me back to how I was generally before things became really difficult, like the time a phone call from mum after I'd just returned home from her place tipped me over the edge and had me on my knees, screaming and pounding the wall. (I had a sexy, husky voice for 3 days afterwards!) Lovely daughter to the rescue - she went off to mum's, leaving strict instructions that I soak in the perfumed bath she'd run me. It must have been scary for her, seeing me in such a state.

Dysthymia

Is this me? - 'In dysthymic disorder, depressive symptoms typically begin insidiously in childhood or adolescence and pursue an intermittent or low-grade course over many years or decades; major depressive episodes may complicate it (double depression).' I certainly remember feeling an almost constant melancholy from childhood onward and am wondering whether, despite a promising start with Prozac which seemed to banish the blues, dysthymia was the reason why this weekend I felt detached and unable to fully enjoy life, often retreating to my bed with bouts of weariness. And I'm still bargain hunting! Today I found a lovely touch table lamp in palest green etched glass in a charity shop for £5 that goes beautifully in my back room.