My motivator: I need to go, I need to get my prescription, otherwise I will run out of my medication. This was my incentive to go see Dr T, my psychiatrist, today.
And so, I find myself back in the waiting room of her office. Except this time, I’m not the only one waiting to be seen. This time, there are three other people. A mother, waiting for the conclusion of her daughter’s appointment with Dr T. Two females, perhaps another a mother-daughter couple, waiting to see the clinical psychologist who also practices in the Specialist Center. Incidentally, this is the same psychologist Dr T is wanting to refer me to. Thus, I was able to catch a glimpse of who she is, what she looks like. She seems nice. Friendly. Middle aged, not too old and not too young. I could imagine myself feeling comfortable talking to her. Despite the fact that upon dialing her number to enquire about making an appointment and leaving a message, she never did call me back.
On the commencement of our session, Dr T asks me whether I have been taking my medication. Yes. Yes I have, daily, 10mg as per instruction, no overdoses, no underdoses, I have been compliant. She enquires about any side effects. No, not really… She asks whether I have felt any positive effects yet. Umm, I’m not sure… No, unless you count feeling numb and devoid of emotion as ‘positive.’
I am questioned as to whether I have made an appointment with the psychologist yet. Umm, no, not yet… If I recall correctly, you told me you would follow it up with G why she failed to return my call? Judging from her question and the fact that my phone has stayed silent, I’m guessing she has forgotten. It has now been twenty five days since I first made the phone call to the psychologist. Yes, I counted. I’m thinking I should call her a second time. Simultaneously I am hesitant, talking on the telephone fills me with anxiety and fear. I loathe making phone calls. Furthermore, I don’t want to seem bothersome or pushy by phoning up to request an appointment yet again.
An hour of seemingly pointless conversation about my parents, about my friendships and social anxiety, about why I overdosed in April, and we reach the end of the session.
Dr T then writes me a script for the Lexapro. She tells me she is increasing the dose from 10mg and from now on wants me to take 20mg daily. Oh. Okay then. Last appointment she told me she was going to keep me at a low dose of 10mg for now and there was no need to increase the dosage just yet. I wonder what changed her mind?
I have my next appointment with her in a month’s time, and then two week gaps thereafter. I heard the girl before me making an appointment for every couple of months. Err, can I see you that [in]frequently?