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Someone to Watch Over Me

I Dropped My Pepper Spray - Instant Paranoia

From

Updated October 08, 2008

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Today I went on my three-mile hike with Lily, my dog. I take out and hold my pepper spray as we walk through the forested part, because I am convinced someone will rape and kill me, kill Lily. I fear that if I'm even able to make one last call to one of my sisters, I'll get her answering machine. The reason I fear getting the answering machine is that I wouldn't be able to tell at least one of my sisters goodbye in person before I died. My sisters have been pivotal in my road to recovery.

And then I dropped the pepper spray in the middle of a 55-mph road that is very busy and difficult to cross. I went running back to get it and bent down, where no one could possibly see me, to pick it back up. I couldn't live without my protection!

I'm going to wait and see what this increase in clozapine does, because I don't think I should have to live with the constant belief that every time I stop my car I'm going to hit the one in front of me and go tumbling out of the window. I don't think I should have to live with the belief that every time a car passes me, I am going to be shot execution style. I don't think every time I walk to my car or even go on a walk with my boyfriend I should have to carry my driver's license, so that they can identify me after we've been mugged and killed, see that I'm an organ donor (if they find me before it's too late), and that I want my brain to go to NARSAD.

These are things that my service dog can't take away. Will clozapine take them away? I'm not sure if anyone knows, because I may not have been on a therapeutic level until now.

I just wish a psychiatrist or a therapist could sit at his computer working and have someone stand behind his holding a knife that he can feel at their throat, even using someone they know, and continue to function for even an hour -- not for years as I have.

When I went for my sleep apnea test, they said that no one had ever slept so peacefully and soundly as I did, hooked up to all those wires. I told them it was the first time in 14 years that I had someone to watch over me, so I didn't have to fear hallucinations or delusions. All the staff found it funny, as if they couldn't even comprehend the difference in sleep with someone staying awake all night to watch over you.

Right now, I feel that I have no one to watch over me because of the continual mistakes that have been made at the program I go to, starting with my first therapist.

Why did I stick with this program? The reason is that it has a specialized pharmacy for psych and regular meds, and you can go to medical doctors that are also psychiatrists. They also provide you with a free case manager. I am trying to partner with my therapist to improve my level of care. I hope it works.

Editor's note: Personal experiences with medications can't be generalized to fit others. Everyone reacts to medications differently. The psychotic features of bipolar disorder can take as many forms as there are patients who experience them.

While Tempest is right to be upset that her doctors were not being as aggressive in managing her condition as they should have been, the use of blood levels in managing Clozaril is not straightforward. There is no clearly delineated "therapeutic level" with this drug. Clozaril is dosed by trial and error, gradually increasing the dose until an optimal therapeutic response is seen, or side effects occur.

Blood levels usually are drawn only when there has been a lack of response at high doses, or significant side-effects occur at low dosages. In Tempest’s case, since there was a less than optimal response at reasonably high doses, blood levels would have been reasonable (and ultimately proved to be helpful). But monitoring blood levels is not routine with Clozaril, as in most patients they are not particularly helpful.

However, as we said above, many lessons can be learned from Tempest's story, and we thank her for allowing us to publish it.

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