The search.

Its been since July that my crazy doctor moved to Florida. To most, switching doctors might not be that big of a deal. But there is something about going through a Bipoar diagnoses (or I would assume any mental illness for that matter) that creates a bond with the professional who guides you through it. At least for me it did. When she told me the news, I responded, what I considered to be, quite rationally. There was really no reason for me not to. I had been stable on the same medication for six years and had not experienced any major episodes for nearly three. She gave me ample notice and I knew that I would be fine.

Even though I knew these things, I had a really hard time starting the search for a new doctor. I guess part of me knew that once I made those calls there was a finality to her departure that perhaps I was not ready to wrap my mind around. Then on top of that, once I finally forced my self to get it together, several of my initial calls to prospective doctors were not returned.  [Note to said doctors: you treat mentally unstable people, perhaps you might want to return their calls. Just a thought.] I finally received a recommendation from someone and made an appointment. I arrived that day with my mood history dating back to 1991 in hand. For an hour and a half I shared my journey over the last 20 years (since when can I describe something as happening for 20 years…yikes!). I signed all the paperwork so that she could get my records from my previous doctor. And while she was nice and seemingly competent, I had a weird feeling that I could not shake when I left. I felt disappointed in way – I guess I had this unsaid expectation that I would leave feeling as comfortable as I had been with the doctor that I had seen for all those years. Which is silly because that obviously takes time. It made me realize that I needed to create a space in my brain to grieve the loss of that relationship.

I would later learn that after knowing me for 90 minutes, her recommendation for me would be to add 3 new medications to the one that I was already on; clearly we were not going to be a fit. [Note to self: that feeling you could not shake is your intuition. Trust it, it is usually right.] This whole experience really made me dread the next steps in my search. It took me two months to make an appointment with another doctor. I went to that appointment last week and it went well. I decided to keep two things in mind: #1) I was not going to leave with a BFF necklace – relationships take time, especially ones with crazy doctors and #2) This did not have to be a forever choice.

I am learning that #2 is big for me. Do you ever do that to yourself, hype something up so much in your brain that it becomes unnecessarily stressful? I was living in the “what if” of years from now. What if I choose someone and it does not work out? What if she sees me as just another crazy person on her long list of crazies? What if when I decide to have kids she is not willing to work with me as a partner in my treatment? What if she does not get my sense of humor?  I was not considering where I am right now. While all of these things are important (especially the sense of humor part, obvs), I do not need all the answers now. It is ok if it does not work out. I have the power to make a change. I can trust myself to know if and when that is the case. It is about embracing the process – there is so much to learn from where I am now. Today. At this moment. It would be unfortunate to miss those things because I am fretting about what will happen when I'm crazy preggers (which is not any time soon, BTW).

So this is where I am now: I have another appointment in two months at which time I may or may not clue her in on the superpower part. We’ll see.

Seasons of change.

Yesterday I went for my quarterly appointment with my ‘crazy doctor’. I used to see her weekly, but once my meds were stable, I ‘graduated’ to every 3 months. At these meetings we discuss how the previous 3 months have been – it is important to help me keep my ups and downs in check. In fact the last 2 time changes are the first in 6 years that I have not had a significant swing up or down because we were able to be proactive based on my past cycles. So these check-ins are important.

As I walked into her office she had a concerned look on her face. I sat down.

Crazy Docter: “Did you get the letter?”
JLa: “What letter? I did not get any letter, what address was it sent it to?”
CD: “Londonderry View Drive.”
JLa: “Nope, those were my WEHO days with the gay boys. I’ve moved on to being ‘urban’ with the homeless people in downtown. What did the letter say?”
CD: “I have to relocate.”
JLa: “No problem, I already drive to Tustin from downtown to see you…where are you relocating to?”
CD: “Florida.”
JLa: “Oh…well that is just a touch further than Tustin. So that means…you’re leaving?”

At this point many things cross my mind. It is natural to be a bit taken back. After all I have seen her for 6 years now – she walked me through some of the most challenging times in my life. She has been a constant – just a phone call (or a hour and a half commute) away. If I had questions or was becoming a little Penelope-ish or sliding down the slope of depression, she was there with a plan in place. Not to mention she is very forward thinking and laughs at my jokes and tells me that I am doing extraordinarily well and that I should be proud of that.

Then I started thinking about the process of finding someone new. The good news is that I can find someone that is a bit closer. But then there is the unknown that is a bit daunting: Getting the recommendations, the interview process (because lets be honest, it is a process), bringing someone new up to speed as to how I have gotten to where I am (insert ‘Turns out I have a blog…these 3 key posts really summarize it well. You’re welcome.’) and then after all of that deciding of this person is a fit. It is so very important to me to have a doctor that is not super conservative in their approach. Someone who is willing to hear about the new thing I have been researching and incorporating holistic options where they make sense. I am not into “Here are some more pills, take them because I say so. See you in 3 months.” Not to mention finding someone who will laugh at my madness and embrace the fact that crazy is indeed my superpower.

After our conversation I left feeling uncertain, but also fine. I get to see her again in 2 months before she leaves, which gives me enough time to find someone new that can talk to her as part of my transition and come up with a meaningful parting gift for her (Ideas are welcome). As I got on the 5 freeway at 8:30 am to go back to LA, I had [lots] of time to reflect on this news. I found myself saying out loud over and over: “Change is good.” (Side note: yes, sometimes I talk to myself, out loud in my car. At least since the invention of Bluetooth in cars other people do not look at me and wonder if the weird girl in the car next to them has lost her mind and reverted to talking to herself. Thank you inventors of blue tooth.) “Change is good” “Change is good.”

And then I thought of something that I saw this past weekend at the MOCA ‘Art in the Streets’ exhibit. Tucked away in an installation by Os Gemeos (amazing BTW) was the quote “In order to open a new door, you have to close the old one.” DUH. This is my new door. There is something waiting for me ahead and this is the opportunity to go find it. This is not a scary awful thing. I can embrace this change.

I am a firm believer in timing and being ready to hear/accept/take things in. This morning I woke up with this new change on my mind again and as I sat with my breakfast reading a few blogs, I read a post on ‘turning corners’ written by one of my very dearest friends. Just what I needed to hear. I am ready for this change. I am ready to turn this corner. And I look forward to what awaits me.