Thankfully, my TARDIS lunchbox is not bigger on the inside, because I took everything I'm taking by way of medication, supplements, etc., with me to the doctor today.
Because, you see, in addition to the asthma/anxiety issues I've been having (and probably related to same), I appear to have Fuzzy Brain, and there was no way I was going to remember the dosages and stuff. Easier to bring it all in.
And actually, for an obese asthmatic hypothyroid 40-something with seasonal depression and very good reasons for situational depression and anxiety, I have pretty few drugs. Hence not bigger-on-the-inside. I have a thyroid thing, a depression/anxiety thing, and a blood pressure thing; everything else is vitamins and minerals and my rescue inhaler.
Apparently, I am in pretty good health for a person with all that up there. My pulse, blood oxygen, and temperature were all 98 on the nose. My blood pressure was fine, none of my "wisdom spots" have grown or changed, and I'm not due for the girl-tests for several months. I got many kudos for 10.6 pounds in 12 weeks (thank you Weight Watchers) and all the blood work was done.
They're on the lookout for diabetes (always been high risk), high cholesterol, and low Vitamin D and iron, as well as checking to make sure my thyroid dosage does not need adjusting.
The interesting part of this for me is... how to explain it? Okay, so when I'm at work, and someone calls with a phone that isn't connecting to the tower, there are usually indicators as to whether it's the phone or the account or the tower that's causing the issue. The indicators here were those 98s, specifically the blood oxygen one.
Ninety-eight is really good, especially for us asthmatic/low iron types. It kind of suggests that I am getting enough oxygen in my lungs and therefore into my blood, even with the asthma attacks I've had here recently. They certainly feel like asthma, and the rescue inhaler helps, but the doctors think they may be - if not actual panic attacks - something like anxiety-induced asthma.
Because the Evil Alder Pollen season is over, after all; it's not allergy induced, most likely.
So (assuming the test results don't show a counter indication), we're doing the following: doubling the anti-anxiety med (I'm on the lowest dose anyway), and taking that at bedtime. This should help me sleep, which mitigates the insomnia part of the vicious cycle. They're referring me to a counselor for similar reasons, and as I understand it, the counselors at my doctor's office work closely with the social worker on Laston's oncology team, so they know what's going on and sort of specialize in caring for the caregiver.
Honestly, if I could sleep better, I could be less fuzzy in my thinking, lose weight, be less anxious, have more energy for care-giving and parenting and house stuff, and a host of other good things could happen.
Now all I need is the cure for cancer and a day at the spa, and it's all good.
EDIT: I should also note, for my sweet, worried colleagues, that my not-a-rescue inhaler was renewed as well. Okay, Mama D? Erinn? James?