Week three and to a lesser extent, week four, have been horrible. And I couldn't figure out why. Was it the rainy weather? Was it because Mom and Dad left and therefore less need to be "on" and doing "great"? That emotional stuff all postop CABGs go through? A chakra plugged back in now that the heart has no pressure on it now (though you'd think this would be a good thing)? Again....weather?
I, and my PCP is agreeing with me, am blaming gabapentin. The 300 TID is a reasonably low dose. And I was taking it because why wouldn't I want to use it to get off the narcotics faster? Right, people find this drug helpful for nerve pain....she cut a whole buncha chest nerves....all of this is reasonable.
But the fatigue, holy shit. I had no reason for it. I had no reason to be having depressive symptoms when I am not depressed. But there it is. The ten hour long headaches that no drug seemed to touch, the ringing in my ears. And by last week, I was starting to get emotional for no damn reason. Some degree of panic and fear about going back to work, not crazy but wasn't proportional. Crying over Law & Order episodes, crazy. And the nausea....geezus. It's still not gone yet, and every bite of anything I take is forced. I am really trying to hit more than 1000 calories per day. Nothing tastes good. I've lost 7.5 lbs from pre-surgery morning to two days ago. This is not how I wanted to lose weight. I wanted to lose weight by having this surgery and buying a fitbit, maybe changing my work schedule so I could run in the mornings.
I did get my butt in to see my PCP yesterday. In theory, it was to check in post op, but it was also because I knew I was Not Right. And the logical culprit was the gaba. I take maybe one valium every four days for muscle spasm, the oxy just makes the pain fade for a few hours and the rest is ibuprofen and occasional tylenol. That's it.
I like my PCP, and she's very kind, and pointed out to me that I was wearing a sweatshirt that said "Raven Lunatic." And that she'd had a patient earlier in for anxiety disorder who was wearing a t-shirt that said "Keep Calm and Breathe." So I problem dumped (and yes, cried), and she said, "This doesn't sound like something is wrong post-op, this sounds like meds." No more gabapentin for me. Yay. No taper, just stop this shit. I have an appointment with her next Thursday, and if I feel significantly better, I can cancel it. If not, she's going to start drawing blood and finding some other cause for this constellation of nonspecific unpleasantness.
I'd called Marianne, Dr. J's RN and she suggested the same. I was supposed to call her back yesterday, but was too wiped out.
At the moment, I feel like a crazy person, prone to bouts of sobbing over ridiculous stuff. Mark has been wonderful in taking care of me. He doesn't judge that I'm not walking as much as I am judging that I should, and he makes makes me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches if I ask. Chase is going through some stuff at school and mostly in his own world, but is good to me, too. Bex comes over and lets me paint her nails while we watch RuPaul's Drag Race. Otherwise, I'm isolating as much as I can. Some of it is that I'm a lunatic, but a lot of it is the crushing weakness and fatigue, and the headaches...geezus, the headaches.
Apparently, this should clear by the end of the week....or dramatically lessen. My last dose was Sunday or early Monday, forgetting now. Not only does PCP tell me this, I actually found some drug websites...not WebMD....recreational user websites. No idea how I found it, but incredibly interesting. (Learned all kinds of stuff.) Some people like this shit recreationally. I experienced absolutely none of the fun that those people are having, and I feel gypped. Those that talked about coming off of it, though, agree that coming off of it sucks ass.
I've had two oxys today and 600mg of ibuprofen today. And I broke the 1000 calorie barrier by eating 1,198 today. (Fitbit has a food tracker.) I ache, but if I could go in and have someone dialyze every bit of drug out of my body right now, I'd do it.
I can't wait until I like food again. I miss food. I miss a good glass of wine, too. But I know for a fact that I liked food for most of my life, and that I will be really happy when I enjoy eating again.