Today I went from the pill on the right to the pill on the left.

I’m nowhere near post-menopausal (although my FSH levels fall in the “post-menopausal range) but I really don’t want to be on this medication long-term. I think it was just about a year ago (late May?) that I went on it and I think it’s time to try and see how I do without it. While the doctor told me I could just stop taking it, I wanted a gradual taper down just to help me ease into it. My reasoning was that, if I go down to 10 mg. and begin to feel I’m in trouble again, then I can go back up to the 20 mg. without any problems. She agreed. I also didn’t want to just go off the Prozac while the semester is winding down. This is one of our busiest times of year and is always stressful when I’m fully staffed — being that I’m flying solo these days, I think staying on the Prozac is a good idea, at least until the semester ends and the faculty goes home for the summer.

I have a worker’s compensation evaluation this week on Thursday. I had one last year in July or so and that Dr. recommended just 10 more visits for me. My own physician apparently convinced the workers comp board that I needed continued treatment. I fell on my tookas on March 1 last year — HARD. My hip and back had excruciating pain for a long time and I still have days when my tailbone lets its presence be known, loudly. I’m beginning to think I’ll never truly be back to “right” where this is concerned. I’m 50 years old — and realistic enough to realize that my body isn’t going to bounce back like it did just 10 years ago. I suppose that, at some point, I’ll lose the worker’s compensation and end up paying for treatment myself.

In the meantime, I’ve had to cut my visits down to just once a week, not because I’m doing better, but because gas is eating me alive. I used to live on the east side of the city about 15 years ago and a lot of my “specialists” are still out that way, even though I now live on the west side of the city. And the thing is, when you have a good professional relationship with someone, you stick to it. My chiropractor is fantastic and is so flexible that I can wake up one morning with a backache and just waltz into his office without an appointment, and be seen on a “first in, first out” basis. I don’t need to call ahead for an appointment. I’ve also been going to the same hairdresser for 17 years — a 32 mile trip one way. Fortunately, that’s only once every four weeks but still, it’s almost 3 gallons of gas. And, at today’s prices, that’s about $10. Mary gave us $20 for gas for the lawnmowers and two 5-gallon cans. Lisa told her “Keep dreaming!” That $20 filled one 5-gallon can and about a half gallon in the second. I told Lisa just this morning that the small investment it would take in buying locking gas caps could well end up saving us all a shitload of money, since our vehicles are parked in the driveway all the time. Saw the energy secretary last night briefly on television, and he claims that the high prices merely reflect “supply and demand.” Yeah, right. That’s why the major oil companies are posting BILLIONS of dollars in profits for the first quarter of 2006. They demand money, we supply it.

We mowed the lawns on Saturday. The grass had gotten so high so fast, and it was a tad wet, so it left rows of clippings. I raised the deck on the mower to it’s highest point and went over the rows, and it disseminated the clippings nicely. I have to say, both lawns look like green velvet today. Some of the hostas are finally starting to poke through, and the Brunnera is just beautiful this year. Look at those lovely little blue “forget-me-not-like” flowers! The ostrich ferns have also poked through the ground, along with the phlox and day lilies. Our lilies are about 6″ tall, and all but one of the rosebushes are lousy with new leaf growth. The Delphiniums have already reached about a foot in height, and one is already pushing up a spike. Spring sure came early this year.

I spoke with my father a couple of times over the weekend. I’m still so very torn about this whole thing. I’m the only one he knows who is speaking to him these days. He’s alone, feeling abandoned, and very depressed. When I told Mary this, she nastily retorted “Well, he should have thought of that before.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s right, but aren’t we to hate the sin and love the sinner? I told Lisa that I feel bad, but can’t exactly put a name to what I feel. She gave it a good name — human compassion. Depending on where they send him, I’ll make an effort to try to get to see him periodically, and I’ll try to write to him frequently, so that he knows he’s not completely alone. I’ve encouraged him to have a will drawn up. At first he said “Why? I don’t have anything to leave.” I told him that he’d have money in his checking account that will accrue each month that he’s away, and he needs to say who should get that, in the event that he doesn’t survive his incarceration. He has household stuff in storage in 3 different places. I told him that I didn’t want to get in the middle of a pissing contest between two sisters who think that some family item belongs to them, or should go to them. I don’t want to get in the middle of a pissing contest between my brother and his son over who should get the two vehicles my father owns. While it’s not much, it’s still stuff that needs to be designated to someone.

He asked me to be sure that he’s buried at the VA Center Cemetary in Bath (0ne of the largest in the country). He was a Marine, back when I was born, and I suppose it’s the one thing in his life that he’s most proud of, when he did the right things (sort of) as an adult.

I called my Aunt Wanda Saturday, and told her that I was going to be a pain in her ass for a little while. She’s been hedging on talking to him, fearful of what she might say. I told her to just get it out, spit out the poison, and she’ll feel better, and more able to interact with him before his incarceration. She’s still afraid of what she’ll say, but I also promised her I’d be a real ass-ache to her until she does talk to him. If she lets him go to prison without making her peace with him, she’ll never forgive herself. I’ve made my peace with him, and perhaps that’s why I make a point to talk to him each day. We confront the issue frequently, we confront his future, and we chat about daily stuff (like the price of gas)as well.

Le continues to distance herself from the family, sadly. I think she views the guy she’s seeing as some sort of prince on a white horse, but I don’t think he’s interested in what she wants from him. He’s my age — about 15 years her senior, and has already expressed no interest in children, as he’s raised his own and doesn’t want to raise any more. Le wants more kids, marriage, picket fence, etc. This guy just isn’t going to be the one.

But, I could be wrong. That happened once, about 30 years ago.

Advertisements