Saturday, May 08, 2010
Moving Right Along
I've now begun the process of getting off meds; it will take all summer (my doc's weaning me off very slowly), but that's just fine. I'll get there.
The weird thing is that, when I was in my psychiatrist's office, she never expressed any condolences about Mom. I'd dropped off a note last week filling her in on everything that's happened, the upshot of which was that I wanted to start decreasing my meds dosage. When I arrived for my appointment, she launched right into that subject. No word of "I'm sorry about your mother" or "So how are you doing?" She asked how my mood was, but not in the context of grief.
This struck me as decidedly odd. Maybe she figures my new therapist's doing all of that (as indeed he is), but it's only human to say something, even if it's pro forma, and this doc's usually very human. Oh well. Maybe she was having a bad day.
I woke up early this morning, got to the hospital early as a result, had a quiet and pleasant shift, and came home for lunch. Then I unpacked a big box of my mother's glass, most of which had never been unpacked when she moved from New Jersey to Philadelphia seventeen years ago. It's beautiful stuff, and the cats had a wonderful time leaping through the packing peanuts (see previous post). In New Jersey, Mom had the pieces on glass shelves mounted across windows, so the light would shine through them. Our cats are a lot more rambunctious than hers, so we need to find a place for the glass where they won't knock it down. Right now, it's crammed on top of our CD racks in the family room; that's where we keep other small breakables, and so far, they've all been safe from furry marauders. The surfaces look too busy, so we'll have to do some scaling back, but at least the glass is safe.
I teach one more class tomorrow. I have about five more papers to grade. Then I'll be done, or as done as I ever get. We leave for Alaska, via Seattle, in two weeks. Yay!