I few months ago I saw a nurse practitioner who suggested I pay her with artwork. That didn’t happen. I waited for her to accept my insurance. Well, I finally saw her again. I’ll sum up that appointment in one word: next.
This quack suggested I stop taking 200mg per day of Zoloft cold turkey and start taking Cymbalta. She said to take 60 mg once a day for a week then double that the next week. From there I’d stay on 120mg. I asked her if it’s safe to stop taking Zoloft like that. She told me yes. Of course I was skeptical because all my treatment experience says I can’t. I accepted the script with no intentions of filling it but still I was interested in how much this new med was going to help with physical pain. I knew I’d heard of the med but I wasn’t sure about side effects. Well, come to find out it’s one of those meds from a commercial I’ve made fun of time and again. You know the type, the ones that say if you live you’ll be fine? Yeah, that’s Cymbalta. No thanks. I’ll skip, especially if I’m putting myself at serious risk while going through serious withdrawals from Zoloft. Not gonna happen. Next.
Not only is this the lady that wanted to exchange services for art, she’s also the quack that wrote the name Joan on a script for me. She asked me if she was talking to the original person. I said no but I never dreamed she’d write Joan on my script. At least she didn’t write Joan of Arc Austin. What in the hell is wrong with her? She came out of retirement to mess with me. I know it, I just know it. Please go back into retirement before you kill somebody. Next please.
In other news, today was quite interesting. My company came over at 5:30PM and didn’t leave until 1:30AM. At first it was okay but then I thought, isn’t your husband getting concerned? Her mom called three times though. I like her mom. So, we went to grab a quick bite then came back here and chatted. Time went by quickly for her but I was dead tired. Being here that long she had to use the restroom but she knows she can’t use mine so she did the trek upstairs to Fife’s restroom which I’m sure is worse than a truck stop toilet. Poor girl. Anyway, I’m doing a custom frame job for her of Swan Feathers but we kind of hit it off so we spend a little more time together than for just “business”. Sitting down to dinner was really cool cause it meant I didn’t have to cook. I seem to labor over that anymore. Okay so, my point is, since she was here so long I ended up switching several times. Basically I, Joan, can stay out for about two hours but that’s my max. After that it’s anyone’s guess. The good thing is I’m not that obvious when I switch so maybe she didn’t notice. She knows I have DID cause it’s on my profile on the art site. I’m not 100% sure she reads here but I think she might.
I guess I like the idea of hiding with my DID so no one can see that I’m not one person all the time. I worry about looking strange. I worry about it being obvious that they’re no longer talking to the same person. Will I forget they’re in front of me because I’m so far in my head that I can’t get out? Can the other person see my eyes glaze over and can they hear the slight change in my voice? I worry, a lot. I worry I’ll forget my composure and start rocking. Will I hold my arms across my chest as if I’m protecting myself from the world? There is an amazing amount of stress when seeing other people (including those with DID) because I know I can’t stay one person all the time and I’m not comfortable with others knowing I’ve switched. I don’t want it to be the focus of our friendship or something we talk about in the check out line for everybody and their brother to hear. I don’t want jokes nor do I want to be asked if I’m still out. I just don’t want to do that.
I’m guilty of hiding in my house from singletons and multiples alike. The only time I’m open without real concern about abuse and DID is on the net…In my private life it’s hush, hush. Go figure.
J of A
Nurse Stupid and the Multiple Dilemma – Wednesday, December 31, 2008-5:47AM EST
Well, I get that. I get that. I’m that way about my PTSD. Very hush hush except on the net. I mean, people don’t “get it.” And I don’t want to get treated like a crazy person either esp. by those who don’t “get it.” I feel that.
Seems to me though that people who really care for us won’t make a deal out of it. That is to say they won’t care what our so called ‘problem’ is. They’ll just adapt. As long as we’re not swinging at them or spitting curse words at them or anything.
I tell people getting to know me that there are times when they might see me act a little strange because I’m under a lot of stress. That they might see me get confused or seem to lose my train of thought or repeat myself or seemingly not hear them say something. I ask just that they understand it isn’t about them and that I just need them to be understanding and help me out a little bit. So far that’s worked fine.
You are very passive agressive about your complaints-your should have directed them at her and not maligned a provider on your blog. And if you REALLY were concerned and had a valid complaint, why didn;t you lodge the complaint with her boss or the Boatd of Nursing? Who then would have not only investigated the validity of your complaint but also would have helped her correct any lack of knowledge. Contrary to many Professinal Boards, Boards of Nursing actually investigate complaints and take action when needed. However, most people with spurious complaints (Like you perhap?) choose nonsense ways like whining in other venues. So you choose to vent on a BLOG-cowardly at best and certainly destroys any credibility you might have with those of us who actually think-I bet you complain about all the providers?
I’m like Wily. I blame my PTSD/anxiety symptoms on stress. Or being jumpy.
Nurse Practitioner – go away. Austin is allowed to vent on her blog all she wants. If you don’t like it, get your own blog and vent about her there. Besides, isn’t it unethical to trade professional medical services for artwork? I know it is in my field.
Austin – I switched cold turkey from zoloft to lexapro because they were on the same spectrum. That was fine. But when I tried to drop lexapro cold turkey and do prozac, that was a nightmare. Then I was back on lexapro and weaned slowly off it to effexor. That was fine too. So I think sometimes it’s okay and sometimes it’s not. I’ve heard good things from friends that have tried cymbalta. If you do end up trying it, will you let us know how it goes?
Nurse Practitioner –
You’ve tightly wrapped my “credibility” with the words “passive aggressive” and “cowardly”. You’ve wrapped them like a gift from a nurse practitioner with a chip on her shoulder.
Austin of Sundrip Journals
NP:
I have to disagree with your assessment of the way in which Austin chose to process your odd little proposal (using her artwork to pay for services rendered.)
She talked about it on her blog because this is where she works out those things which trouble her. It’s not whining to work through things, and as for complaining–she’s the least complaining individual you’ll likely ever come across.
Then too, there is nothing cowardly about Austin. She lives her life with dignity and grace and honesty, the very honesty which seems so disagreeable to you.
There is nothing wrong with her sharing with her readers her everyday experiences; most of us do the same on our blogs. Perhaps if you hadn’t dealt with her in such an unprofessional manner she wouldn’t have had reason to even mention you.
Nurse Prac,
I’m not sure if this is my ex-np or not but no matter who she is she decided to come here and leave a flaming comment about being passive aggressive and cowardly. Those two words right there don’t set well with me because those characteristics are certainly not one’s I want to be predominant in my life. I’ve done some passive aggressive things and some cowardly things but for someone to come here and decide on two entries that this is “what I am” really gets to me. When someone doesn’t have all the facts they should pause before making an assumption or in this case drawing a bottom line in the sand.
In a therapeutic setting as well as in my private life I’m willing to be called on my behaviors. I’m willing to hear that I’m not seeing something correctly or that I’m over-reacting. However, I’m not willing to listen to a total stranger sum up my behaviors in such a mean and cruel way. Any professional that works with survivors knows if they toss together the words “passive aggressive, cowardly and credibility” the survivor may recoil OR come out of the corner fighting. The manner in which this comment was presented to me could be triggering for future sessions. It could cause a survivor to question if what they’re saying is believable. If this was your reckless intension then you chose the wrong survivor. This one will toss your words in the trash where they belong and not consider them again. This isn’t aggressive, it’s healthy.
I assume that you’re angry because I had the nerve to make a negative comment about an np. I know np’s are often mocked by the medical society as well as laypersons for not being “a real doctor” like a psychiatrist. I assume this is why you came out fighting when no punches were needed. But no where in my post did I suggest she is incompetent because she’s an np. If that is what you thought, and I strong believe it is, then you came here with a chip on your shoulder. This is your issue and you’ll have to deal with that on your own. My actions would have been passive aggressive IF I posted it hoping she’d see it. I have no knowledge of her reading my blog so there was no intent for aggression on my part. If anything I have a problem NOT shutting my mouth so if there’s a problem the person knows it first and then it’s on my blog.
All that aside, what you wrote was reckless and well constructed cruelty. You used specific words your profession understands to sting and stay in the heart of a person healing from abuse. But as I said, if you intended to harm and for those words to last or for you to be torn a new one in great Borderline style then you chose the wrong survivor to attack. You don’t know me or anything about me except this, I’m not the one.
You will not start a flame war on this blog. You will not be a troll. I will not address you again.
Austin of Sundrip Journals
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