sch00lteacher
Social Security Sucks
- Joined
- Sep 29, 2001
- Posts
- 3,802
Went and saw the VA doctor yesterday, to get my medications straight. They are a lot cheaper through the VA than any other insurance.
The VA doctor always wants the significant other to come along, so he can get the straight story.
Just before we left to see him the wife and I had a falling out. I had gotten pissed because someone turned the outside hose on and had not turned it all the way off. I called everyone 'morons' which I guess I am not supposed to do.
So when the doc walks in the room he can feel the tension between my wife and myself. He asks questions, she answers them. Not good.
I know I suffer from depression, I have for along time. I am on medication for it. But the wife told him about my mood swings, and other things. Things that don't fall under the depression heading.
Hit the wrong damned button again.
So anyhow. Now he has me scheduled to go to the psy unit for a full day of testing, to see what is wrong with me. Yippie fucking do. Not something I am too pleased about. They always find something, and once diagnosed it don't go away, it follows you around.
Well, it will be a month or two before I get in for testing. I will be sure to let my Lit family know what I find out.
Shit, anyone who is in chronic pain for two months, and locked in the house, and on lots of medications, is going to act a little strange.
I have seen shrinks before. I know I have issues. One of them being repressed memories of child molestation. One of them got into that big time, but the closer she got to breaking down the walls the quicker I rebuilt them. I figure if I have repressed something for all these years, there is a damned good reason for it. I have a notion of what happened, but I don't want to discuss it. Dig?
Again, when I find out something, I'll let you know.
hit the wrong button again, content added
The VA doctor always wants the significant other to come along, so he can get the straight story.
Just before we left to see him the wife and I had a falling out. I had gotten pissed because someone turned the outside hose on and had not turned it all the way off. I called everyone 'morons' which I guess I am not supposed to do.
So when the doc walks in the room he can feel the tension between my wife and myself. He asks questions, she answers them. Not good.
I know I suffer from depression, I have for along time. I am on medication for it. But the wife told him about my mood swings, and other things. Things that don't fall under the depression heading.
Hit the wrong damned button again.
So anyhow. Now he has me scheduled to go to the psy unit for a full day of testing, to see what is wrong with me. Yippie fucking do. Not something I am too pleased about. They always find something, and once diagnosed it don't go away, it follows you around.
Well, it will be a month or two before I get in for testing. I will be sure to let my Lit family know what I find out.
Shit, anyone who is in chronic pain for two months, and locked in the house, and on lots of medications, is going to act a little strange.
I have seen shrinks before. I know I have issues. One of them being repressed memories of child molestation. One of them got into that big time, but the closer she got to breaking down the walls the quicker I rebuilt them. I figure if I have repressed something for all these years, there is a damned good reason for it. I have a notion of what happened, but I don't want to discuss it. Dig?
Again, when I find out something, I'll let you know.
hit the wrong button again, content added
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