Postcard from Hell

Recently it was pointed out to me that I have been delinquent in my posts. I didn't realize just how long I'd been out of the loop until I logged in this morning. Allow me to update you on my most current downward spiral.

About two weeks ago I began taking a medication to help control my nausea. One morning I called the nurse at my OB's office and said, "How much of this can we fix and how much is just First Trimester Tough Tootie?" I was reassured that my symptoms could certainly be managed, and the nurse offered to phone in a prescription for Reglan. Sounded good to me. And for the first few days, it was. It was awesome. Those of you in regular contact with me got to (had to?) listen to me run down the somewhat humorous list of possible side effects. (Note for future reference: I'm thinking that when a medication comes with 5 [five] extra little warning labels plastered to it, to the point that they had to overlap them to fit them all on the bottle, I'm thinking that perhaps one should reconsider taking said medication unless absolutely, unquestionably necessary. I'm thinking.)

Anywho, two of my favorites are:

Taking this medicine alone or with alcohol may lessen your ability to drive or perform hazardous tasks. [Alone OR with alcohol? That's helpful.]

Call your doctor immediately if you experience new or worsening feelings of anxiety, sadness, depression, restlessness or confusion. [So, my stomach will be settled, but I may become suicidal.]

But I took the stuff for ten days anyway. At first the relief from intestinal symptoms was wonderful, and I was sure no side effect could take away that euphoria. But now. As funny as those potential side effects seemed when I first read them, it never really occurred to me that I would experience any ill symptoms. Truth is, the Reglan made me so tired that it was hard to function, hard to take care of myself let alone Lucas. And for those of you who have been pregnant, you know how exhausted you feel during the first trimester anyway. Multiply that times about five. And while I'm not exactly suicidal, I seemed to have developed a general apathy toward things. I don't care if I shower, don't care if my clothes are clean, don't want to go to work, don't really want to stay home, don't really want to do anything. So I quit the Reglan cold turkey.

We'll see.

[To be continued...]