Roller Coaster

Three days ago, Bryon returned from Southern Iowa after his mother's appointment with an aging specialist, and I had planned to write all about it on Wednesday. But Wednesday was full of students, interviews for new teachers, and other start up items for school.

Yesterday, I wanted to share the good news, but instead we discovered that Bryon's mom was having a reaction to her new depression med.

Today, earlier, I had hoped to at least tell you of a hopeful prognosis, but Bryon called in the early afternoon to let me know that his mom had spent the night hallucinating, and that the memory specialist had taken her off the drug.

You lose, Cymbalta. You lose.

***

After Tuesday's appointment, things were looking up. Doctor Bender (not related to any robots you might know) had given Phyllis a list of things to do. Low fat eating, meditation, exercise, and socialization. He gave her a drug that was supposed to sharpen her up, and a drug that was supposed to help with depression. He had a terrific bedside matter, so much so that he suggested she could have Alzheimer's, and she left the appointment feeling good about her prospects. She had a blood test. She will have an MRI. Even if she did have Alzheimer's, the suggestion was that she could live another 7-25 years. On the whole, everyone was happy, and Bryon finally had a spring in his step again.

Further, it was suggested that she didn't need assisted living. That it was best for her to stay on her own, with occasional supervision, and even if she needed assistance, that there were many options between independent living and assisted living.

Things were looking up.

***

I believe that the set back with the Cymbalta is that this is not the depression drug she's looking for, and this is a temporary setback. However, the atmosphere of gloom and sadness that has descended as we cancel weekend plans at the last moment, and Bryon thinks he needs to journey south again is a palpable fog. I spent so much of last week alone that it is certainly not what I hoped to be doing this weekend. The plan was to take a load of collectibles up to Minnesota for the Geek Garage Sale.

Now, we either stay at home, Bryon in mourning, or worse, by myself while he goes back to Osceola and I keep the home fires burning. Or, perhaps, we will both go south, and watch the roller coaster go up and down.

It's certainly a difficult, dispiriting time.

Mirrored from Writer Tamago.