Moving on up

The Vivelle Dot (at .0375) lasted about 3 days – luckily I have friends who check in with me (thanks, Ron!); I would have given it a week, just to be sure, even though I wasn’t getting relief from symptoms. Ron called and persuaded me to call the doctor; I called the doctor and they issued a new scrip. I’ve been moved up to the next level, a .05 dosage. Insurance won’t cover it, for some obscure reason, but luckily enough it’s relatively cheap – $35 for 8 little stickers, a month’s supply. Still the same tiny clear sticker, nowhere near as obtrusive as the generic (still have the mark from that first patch *eyeroll*).

I’m not getting the insta-relief I got with the generic, and I’m not getting the rollercoaster ride either – it’s a much more subtle process, which I’m thinking is a good thing overall (though I confess to missing the upward swing, that lovely sudden return to *me*,  the downside was fierce).

This is still a relatively low dose, considered the normal ‘starting’ dose, so there’s still room to tweak as needed – though keeping the dose lower is considered better, given my history of ER positive breast cancer. Still, it’s probably less than my body would have been producing naturally had I NOT gone though chemotherapy…   hard to say, not knowing.

It’s all still very strange and new to me, this dance with medication, especially as I’ve been fairly resistant to taking medications most of my life – I don’t *like* the idea of changing who I am by adding drugs (aside from coffee, of course, which is not really a drug but a food source. So say we all). My reasoning tended to be along the lines of:  if I, as a normal functioning human, need to take drugs to bear my life, it’s a good signal that I need to change my life instead. Hubris!

The truth is that the reality without was looking pretty grim – to say the least – both physically and emotionally and, try as I might, I couldn’t overcome it, I couldn’t change it. There was no ‘quality of life’, just a quality of existence – and I’m not willing to live like that. Add to that the fact that this isn’t a drug, per se, but more along the lines of a supplement; a substance my body would normally produce naturally but that, due to damage, can no longer create.  I am no longer a ‘normal functioning human’; I’ve been damaged- change my life all I want, that fact remains.

I remain somewhat uneasy with the concept; I vastly dislike the idea of my body and mind not functioning properly without outside intervention; and I’m slowly coming to grips with it. The ‘new normal‘, as they say – and, for me, it includes learning this dance with medication.

I’ll let you know how my new partner works out.

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