Today marked my three-month medication and therapy combo ‘anniversary’. And as I expected, she upped my Prozac to 40mg but left the Trazadone alone since it’s working.
We didn’t get to talk long today. Just fifteen minutes because she was running behind.
I had an adventure today.
I got to therapy on time, early even. But I had two notebooks and several ink pens, so I was good. Around ten after three, Mitzy came out and told me that my therapist’s current patient had “had a crisis”, but they hadn’t forgotten about me, and they’d get me back as soon as possible.
Then two policemen came in.
Followed by paramedics.
A little girl who couldn’t have been more than six said, “As long as they’re not here for me, it’s all good.”
Now I can’t remember if I mentioned or not last month, but I have a new therapist. When I went in last month, I saw Sharon, a children’s therapist, because she had an opening and my therapist had gone on indefinite medical leave. Sharon introduced me to my current therapist, and the three of us had a small chitchat, got my prescriptions together, and I went home.
So this month, my new therapist and I had hoped to spend some time getting to know each other. We’ve had to put that off until next month. But that’s okay. I understand what happened today. She said it doesn’t happen there much, but it does happen. I shrugged. I mean, no one can help it if a patient falls apart in therapy – at least the person falls apart in a safe environment. We talked about how I’d been doing since I was there last month, she adjusted my meds, made my appointment for next month, and sent me home.
Next month we’ll get an entire hour. She said since I’m paying $25 out of pocket for therapy, she wants to make sure I get what I’m coming there for; she said that fifteen minutes to half an hour just isn’t good enough. And I appreciate that.
Tomorrow morning, I start on the 40mg Prozac. We’ll see where that takes me.
