#brainologists

AND like, you mean I drank nasty salt water and Gatorade and ate all those tortilla chips and mediocre french fries because I was supposed to BRING MY BLOOD SODIUM UP, and I DID IT FOR NOTHING?!?!?!??!  

*angry gesticulation*

So we’re lowering my oxcarbazepine levels, and I cannot tell you how nervous that makes me, because I’ve been on that drug for a while. It’s basically my pharmaceutical teddy bear, and I don’t really want to mess with it.  But that’s step 1, so we’re trying it, and if it doesn’t work or gives me more seizures we go to step 2.

Step 2 is changing to a different version of basically the same drug that often has fewer side effects. (why this isn’t step 1 I do not know.  I’d prefer this be step 1, honestly, but I guess there’s rules.)  

Step 3.......?

Our heroine thinks: Will she cry?  Will she laugh?  Will she get bored?  Will she find the answers she seeks?

I feel like for a while I had a very similar relationship with my epilepsy doctor.  It was just very lonely, and every three months I’d have therapy/checkups with my neuro.  If it was a rough couple of months, I’d end up using her half her tissue box.

Which like, I really appreciate her honesty, I do.  But damn if that isn’t a pretty clear way to say “You are so fucked, it’s hilarious.”

And like, wow, shit, if I’m interesting, that means you’ve either seen something like my brain wiggles like once if ever.  And you’re a pretty darn successful neurologist, so...