Down the Rabbit Hole

I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date! Okay, not a date. I haven’t had a date, important or otherwise, in years. I overslept. I was late for work. This morning there was peaceful sleepy slumber, which is quite unusual for me, with a snorer to the left of me and a loudly purring Cheshire to the right of me. I rarely oversleep. Even on weekends I am awake before seven. But it was hard to fall asleep last night. My husband was tossing and turning, and turning and tossing. His heart was pounding out of his chest. He was feeling electrical zaps in his brain.

Does your life ever feel like you’ve just stepped into Wonderland? Tim Burton’s version, no less?

My husband is the Mad Hatter. He has fallen down the rabbit hole. He is encountering strange ordeals and peculiar experiences. He ran out of his Paxil prescription on Sunday, and is beginning to feel the awful withdrawal effects. You are not supposed to stop taking it cold turkey; you are supposed to taper off it. But he had no choice. His prescription is with the mail order pharmacy, and it has been delayed. His doctor won’t give him another prescription in the meantime, and even if he did his local pharmacist won’t sell him anything less than another 30-day supply which insurance most likely wouldn’t cover. So he waits. He anxiously checks his bank account to see if the pharmacy has debited the co-pay. He calls the insurance company to see what the hold-up is. He calls the doctor’s office to see why they haven’t submitted their electronic signature to the pharmacy. They tell him they have done so. It is a crazy waiting situation, he a pawn in the Queen of Heart’s game of big healthcare nonsense.

The anxiety of wondering and worrying when he will get the Paxil adds to the anxiety he is already feeling from not having his regular doses of Paxil, this in addition to the everyday anxiety he feels, the reason he takes Paxil in the first place.

This is not easy for me either. And there is nothing I can do to help him. But I may steal some of his Paxil when it finally does arrive.

Goodbye. I'm late, I'm late, I'm late.

Caterpillar: Who... are... you?
Alice: Why, I hardly know, sir. I've changed so much since this morning, you see...
Caterpillar: No, I do not C, explain yourself.
Alice: I'm afraid I can't explain myself, you see, because I'm not myself, you know.
Caterpillar: I do not know.
Alice: I can't put it any more clearly, sir, because it isn't clear to me.
~Lewis Carroll