Every year about this time people start discussing where they're going for vacation. Maybe it's Disney World, or going on a cruise. For the last 5 out of 8 years, my family have spent a week at the Cornerstone Festival just outside lovely Bushnell, IL. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or so I've heard. If the sight of cornfields and farm houses - as far as the eye can see - is what one considers lovely, it must be just like home. Every year the town and neighboring cities anticipate the influx of some 30,000 festival-goers who represent a financial shot-in-the-arm for the local agriculturally based economy.
This marks the 23rd year that the Jesus People USA have put on the festival, which often resembles the best of Woodstock, with its hippy happiness. (JPUSA was started by a group of born-again hippies in the early 70's.) Cornerstone is the grandfather of Christian music festivals, drawing the most muscial acts of any such festival in the country. Hundreds of acres become home to some 25,000 campers over a one-week period. It's not just about the music however. There are seminar speakers every day covering a wide-range of topics for the Christian, seeker or whoever.
The first year that my wife and I went to the festival, in 1999, we went without the kids and were volunteers. That meant in exchange for our work we would be refunded the price of admission. Depending on the job, that could be a great deal. For an inexpensive vacation, that was the ticket. We volunteered again on our last trip in 2005. It was simply the longest week of our lives. By midweek, we were asking ourselves "why are we spending our vacation doing this?" We both swore we'd never do such a thing again. Vacation is too dear to spend it working.
Something to consider about an outdoor activity, like this festival, is the weather. The first year my wife and I were at the festival, in 1999, we were flooded out of our tents. It didn't rain again over the rest of the week, but there was mud for two more days. We returned in 2000 with our 3 children. It rained 3 out of 5 days. Mud was everywhere - up to a foot deep. It was a nightmare for adults; a dream come true for kids. Our other 3 trips have seen little or no rain. A good thing you might say. Believe it or not, it isn't. Instead of mud, there's plenty of dust. I didn't know this before, but during the summer, there's little difference between Illinois and Texas. It makes one wonder why they'd spend good money to go camping in a cornfield. Maybe I'm just getting old, but going in a RV is much more appealing.
This year my son is going without his parents and siblings as a reward for attending summer school. He hitched a ride yesterday with his aunt and uncle who previous made plans to go. My wife wanted to go this year, but her stick-in-the-mud husband didn't want to brave the high gas prices for a cross-country road trip to camp under the stars. The truth is after two years of being on or near an RV, the thought of going back to a tent in the field just didn't appeal. Dust is bad enough. Mud is much worse.
According to weather.com, rain is in the forecast for July 3rd and 4th, just in time to greet the festival campers when they arrive. The truth is though it may rain for just a day, the mud will last much longer. Have fun guys. You can tell me all about it.
Friday, June 30, 2006
An Update of Sorts...
Today marks 3 weeks of being medicated. After my first week of being on Citalopram I was bumped up from 20 mg to 40 mg. Honestly, I've not been able to tell a difference physically. There have been no real side-affects to speak of. No problems that I can tell. I guess it's all good. I've not had any depressive episodes to speak of so the meds must be doing the trick.
I also received a prescription for a sleep aid, Ambien, since during the initial interview I mentioned having trouble sleeping. After of almost a week, I'm beginning to wonder if my sleeping habits have had an effect on my mental health in the past. I've been enjoying getting up during the week and feeling really refreshed. That's usually reserved for Saturdays and the occasional Sunday. I don't quite know what to do with myself now. I should have checked into this a long time ago!
I also received a prescription for a sleep aid, Ambien, since during the initial interview I mentioned having trouble sleeping. After of almost a week, I'm beginning to wonder if my sleeping habits have had an effect on my mental health in the past. I've been enjoying getting up during the week and feeling really refreshed. That's usually reserved for Saturdays and the occasional Sunday. I don't quite know what to do with myself now. I should have checked into this a long time ago!
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Make No Mistake About It: It's About the Almighty Dollar
It's been a little over a week since my "rooftop" experience (sorry, no mountains around these parts) and I keep learning things every day. Something I learned a long time ago is that regardless of what any of us think, in our world, money is what makes the world go around. As terrible as it is to admit, we all know it's true.
I was really excited when I started my current job with Stewart again. I knew I would eventually have benefits and all the trappings that come with a corporate job. Once I actually received those benefits - after the 90 day waiting period - I was a little suprised at how much I would actually pay for them. But, I had insurance afterall, so it's all okay, right? It got even better when I considered seeing a psychiatrist and realized that such visits and medication were covered under my plan. Excellent news, right?
Last week, after my visit with the nurse, I discovered after leaving the office that I didn't have the prescription that I had actually come for. I called the office back, talked to the nurse and had her call it in. Over the next several days, I called the pharmacy to check on the prescription only to find out that it was on hold, needing additional approval from the doctor. "That's weird," I thought. I spoke to the nurse again and she assured me that she would take care of it.
After several days of a lot of back-and-forth with the insurance company, the word finally came that the prescription that I had been given for Zoloft was not covered under my plan. Apparently they covered other similar drugs, Celexa in this case, but not Zoloft. Supposedly a generic form of the drug will be available at the end of the month and it might be covered at that point in time. Yeah, well...we'll see. In the mean time, the nurse suggested trying the "other" drug until we could determine if the generic for Zoloft would be available.
I knew going in that finding the right drug would be a matter of trial and error. One drug that worked for one person might not work as well for me or visa versa. (My makeup is a little weird anyway. It seems that nothing works for me the same as it might for anyone else.) Up until now, I've been blessed my entire life to have been healthy. I've never had a prescription for anything other than an acne cream or something I was given to counter pneumonia or an infection in my body. I've only taken Celexa for 4 days and I'm not sure how it's affecting me. One day I was so groggy, it felt like being drunk. Today, it was probably the best I've felt since I started taking the drug. I know it's going to take some time to evaluate and see what is going to work best.
I've heard stories about how prescription drug companies jockey for position with local doctors' offices. It took seeing the whole thing in motion to realize what I had heard was actually true. I didn't know going in that my insurance company had only 3 name-brand drugs that would be covered under my plan. I should have known this. It seemed ridiculous however that with all the mental health drugs available on the market, my insurance company would only cover 3 of them. I wouldn't be suprised if this were the same with every other insurance provider.
The truth is that this drug or that is preferred or more readily available because of how the drug maker lobbied with this or that practice or insurance group to get their support to prescribe the medication. Go to another physician or insurance plan and it might be something else. I'm not saying that this is bad, but I don't know that it's good either. Supposedly our medical system is much better than in countries where the care is state-supported. Still, in an industry that is supposed to be about valuing life and making it better, it still comes down to good 'ol politics. I can only imagine how the scale expands when moving from the local practice to the large medical groups and insurance companies around the country. Special favors and all kinds of little perks along the way. Recently there were several reports about lawmakers in Washington receiving thousands of dollars in trips and cash. I'm sure medical insurance companies were right there in the thick of it.
What does that mean for me, the patient? Well, hopefully that I can get whatever I need and be better for it. More importantly, I'd better go in with both eyes wide-open, do my homework and pay attention to details - now, moreso than ever. As much as we hope that the doc we see is going to help us or that our insurance is going to pay their percentage of our bill, in the end it's a muli-billion dollar enterprise and they, like any other company, want to make as much money as they can along the way.
Because, in the end, it's about the almighty dollar.
I was really excited when I started my current job with Stewart again. I knew I would eventually have benefits and all the trappings that come with a corporate job. Once I actually received those benefits - after the 90 day waiting period - I was a little suprised at how much I would actually pay for them. But, I had insurance afterall, so it's all okay, right? It got even better when I considered seeing a psychiatrist and realized that such visits and medication were covered under my plan. Excellent news, right?
Last week, after my visit with the nurse, I discovered after leaving the office that I didn't have the prescription that I had actually come for. I called the office back, talked to the nurse and had her call it in. Over the next several days, I called the pharmacy to check on the prescription only to find out that it was on hold, needing additional approval from the doctor. "That's weird," I thought. I spoke to the nurse again and she assured me that she would take care of it.
After several days of a lot of back-and-forth with the insurance company, the word finally came that the prescription that I had been given for Zoloft was not covered under my plan. Apparently they covered other similar drugs, Celexa in this case, but not Zoloft. Supposedly a generic form of the drug will be available at the end of the month and it might be covered at that point in time. Yeah, well...we'll see. In the mean time, the nurse suggested trying the "other" drug until we could determine if the generic for Zoloft would be available.
I knew going in that finding the right drug would be a matter of trial and error. One drug that worked for one person might not work as well for me or visa versa. (My makeup is a little weird anyway. It seems that nothing works for me the same as it might for anyone else.) Up until now, I've been blessed my entire life to have been healthy. I've never had a prescription for anything other than an acne cream or something I was given to counter pneumonia or an infection in my body. I've only taken Celexa for 4 days and I'm not sure how it's affecting me. One day I was so groggy, it felt like being drunk. Today, it was probably the best I've felt since I started taking the drug. I know it's going to take some time to evaluate and see what is going to work best.
I've heard stories about how prescription drug companies jockey for position with local doctors' offices. It took seeing the whole thing in motion to realize what I had heard was actually true. I didn't know going in that my insurance company had only 3 name-brand drugs that would be covered under my plan. I should have known this. It seemed ridiculous however that with all the mental health drugs available on the market, my insurance company would only cover 3 of them. I wouldn't be suprised if this were the same with every other insurance provider.
The truth is that this drug or that is preferred or more readily available because of how the drug maker lobbied with this or that practice or insurance group to get their support to prescribe the medication. Go to another physician or insurance plan and it might be something else. I'm not saying that this is bad, but I don't know that it's good either. Supposedly our medical system is much better than in countries where the care is state-supported. Still, in an industry that is supposed to be about valuing life and making it better, it still comes down to good 'ol politics. I can only imagine how the scale expands when moving from the local practice to the large medical groups and insurance companies around the country. Special favors and all kinds of little perks along the way. Recently there were several reports about lawmakers in Washington receiving thousands of dollars in trips and cash. I'm sure medical insurance companies were right there in the thick of it.
What does that mean for me, the patient? Well, hopefully that I can get whatever I need and be better for it. More importantly, I'd better go in with both eyes wide-open, do my homework and pay attention to details - now, moreso than ever. As much as we hope that the doc we see is going to help us or that our insurance is going to pay their percentage of our bill, in the end it's a muli-billion dollar enterprise and they, like any other company, want to make as much money as they can along the way.
Because, in the end, it's about the almighty dollar.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Sometimes Peace Is Found In The Oddest Of Places
This past Friday, I went to see the nurse practitioner for the psychiatrist I chose from my medical plan. I've never been to see a counselor let alone a psychiatrist and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I followed the nurse into the room. Instead of an examination table, there were two easy chairs and a love seat. It was a very comfortable room. The walls were light blue and the chairs were almost navy. After 45 minutes of questions and answers, the nurse said she was going to prescribe Zoloft and explained why.
To me, it's always fascinating to have someone describe me to me. You know, like in the personality tests and such "you are like so...you like this...you don't like that." It's cool to me because I can agree or disagree, depending on how good - or how bad - the analysis is. In this case, the nurse was spot-on. No need to disagree. So, when she told me that she had prescribed Zoloft to others who she had seen with some of the same problems, I felt pretty good about at least trying it. We also talked about alternative medications, but came back to the original recommendation for Zoloft. I was given the long list of possible side-effects as well as the anticipated results and was anticipating seeing how it would affect me.
But, a funny thing happened on my way out of the office (not like the joke, "on the way to the office..." Never mind. Bad joke) ...the nurse forgot to give me the prescription. I eventually called the office and was able to get the prescription called in. Currently, I am waiting on the doc's approval to get the prescription - hopefully tomorrow. Still I was disappointed. I wanted to see if this medication might be what I've been looking for for the past year or so. I went on home to get back to work on my house.
Earlier in the week, after I had scheduled the appointment, my sister contacted me about her, my brother-in-law, their daughter and two grandchildren coming to our house. My brother- in-law is a master plumber and we had been talking about him doing some work on our shower. In the course of our most recent conversation, he said he would just come in on Friday and take care of our plumbing problem. We really needed the work done, but didn't realize just how extensive the work would be. It wasn't going to be a matter of replacing one pipe, but everything in the house. Talk about surprise! It's a good thing I took the whole day off. I needed every minute before we were done.
To make matters worse, it's already June here in southeast Texas and the temperature is already hitting the mid 90's in the afternoons. Now add another 20 or 30 degrees and that's supposedly the temperature in the attic. The high on Friday was 96, so we were working in 116-126 degree conditions for the entire day.
We got started around 6 AM doing the preparatory work. I had to shower before my Dr.s' appointment and left around 9:30 AM. I returned about 12:30 PM, changed clothes and went into the attic. By then, the temperatures outside were nearing the high for the day. The air in the attic was so hot that it burned my nose and mouth when I inhaled. My shirt was wet after just a few minutes. My brother-in-law was the brains of this operation and would have to cut and fit the pieces for the new connections being installed. He also had hurt one of his knees recently, so I had to do the crawling around in the attic just because I could.
My brother-in-law lined me out on what I needed to get done and he went back down the attic ladder and left me to myself and the pipe work. These were old, galvanized metal pipes that undoubtedly had rusted long ago (hence my plumbing problem) and the progress on the job would be difficult. As anyone who knows me can attest, I do not like being hot or dirty - or both. I'm not a pleasant person to be around if I'm one, or the other - or both. But, here I was, about to embarque on a very difficult task in a difficult environment. It was at this moment that the Peace came.
I can't really explain what it was other than a sense of calm resolve. I also felt that God was in the attic with me. It was in that moment I said "God, I embrace all of this - the heat, the dust & everything else. I want to do this with You today." In that moment, it was if He said in response "Okay."
For the next 10 hours, I did all sorts of things I didn't think I could have done before. However, most remarkable to me was that I didn't get nearly as frustrated and lose my temper as I often do on smaller, less difficult projects. Instead, I enjoyed this - despite getting a little too hot a few times and coming down with cramps. It may have helped that I was working with my brother-in-law, who, in addition to being a plumber, is also an ordained minister. Perhaps that was all part of the plan. My sister noted at the end of the day, that despite having worked together all day and being extremely tired, though we were a little cranky, we weren't out of sorts with each other. I had to agree with her. I've lost my head with people on lesser jobs.
I realize to someone who might be reading this that it doesn't sound like that big a thing that happened to me. I have to say it was huge and profound on a lot of levels. I probably could have had the same experience during a walk or over a cup of coffee. But, I didn't. My attic was my own little chapel last Friday. I have to believe that if I can find Peace in a place like that, I should be able to find it anywhere, anytime I need it.
And maybe that's the whole point: to steal away somewhere - where there aren't any of the normal distractions - in order to connect with God. Of course, such a place could be anywhere: behind the wheel of a car, in one's bedroom, along a scenic walkway or sitting on the toilet in your bathroom. Whatever it is, it's just important to connect with God while you're there.
To me, it's always fascinating to have someone describe me to me. You know, like in the personality tests and such "you are like so...you like this...you don't like that." It's cool to me because I can agree or disagree, depending on how good - or how bad - the analysis is. In this case, the nurse was spot-on. No need to disagree. So, when she told me that she had prescribed Zoloft to others who she had seen with some of the same problems, I felt pretty good about at least trying it. We also talked about alternative medications, but came back to the original recommendation for Zoloft. I was given the long list of possible side-effects as well as the anticipated results and was anticipating seeing how it would affect me.
But, a funny thing happened on my way out of the office (not like the joke, "on the way to the office..." Never mind. Bad joke) ...the nurse forgot to give me the prescription. I eventually called the office and was able to get the prescription called in. Currently, I am waiting on the doc's approval to get the prescription - hopefully tomorrow. Still I was disappointed. I wanted to see if this medication might be what I've been looking for for the past year or so. I went on home to get back to work on my house.
Earlier in the week, after I had scheduled the appointment, my sister contacted me about her, my brother-in-law, their daughter and two grandchildren coming to our house. My brother- in-law is a master plumber and we had been talking about him doing some work on our shower. In the course of our most recent conversation, he said he would just come in on Friday and take care of our plumbing problem. We really needed the work done, but didn't realize just how extensive the work would be. It wasn't going to be a matter of replacing one pipe, but everything in the house. Talk about surprise! It's a good thing I took the whole day off. I needed every minute before we were done.
To make matters worse, it's already June here in southeast Texas and the temperature is already hitting the mid 90's in the afternoons. Now add another 20 or 30 degrees and that's supposedly the temperature in the attic. The high on Friday was 96, so we were working in 116-126 degree conditions for the entire day.
We got started around 6 AM doing the preparatory work. I had to shower before my Dr.s' appointment and left around 9:30 AM. I returned about 12:30 PM, changed clothes and went into the attic. By then, the temperatures outside were nearing the high for the day. The air in the attic was so hot that it burned my nose and mouth when I inhaled. My shirt was wet after just a few minutes. My brother-in-law was the brains of this operation and would have to cut and fit the pieces for the new connections being installed. He also had hurt one of his knees recently, so I had to do the crawling around in the attic just because I could.
My brother-in-law lined me out on what I needed to get done and he went back down the attic ladder and left me to myself and the pipe work. These were old, galvanized metal pipes that undoubtedly had rusted long ago (hence my plumbing problem) and the progress on the job would be difficult. As anyone who knows me can attest, I do not like being hot or dirty - or both. I'm not a pleasant person to be around if I'm one, or the other - or both. But, here I was, about to embarque on a very difficult task in a difficult environment. It was at this moment that the Peace came.
I can't really explain what it was other than a sense of calm resolve. I also felt that God was in the attic with me. It was in that moment I said "God, I embrace all of this - the heat, the dust & everything else. I want to do this with You today." In that moment, it was if He said in response "Okay."
For the next 10 hours, I did all sorts of things I didn't think I could have done before. However, most remarkable to me was that I didn't get nearly as frustrated and lose my temper as I often do on smaller, less difficult projects. Instead, I enjoyed this - despite getting a little too hot a few times and coming down with cramps. It may have helped that I was working with my brother-in-law, who, in addition to being a plumber, is also an ordained minister. Perhaps that was all part of the plan. My sister noted at the end of the day, that despite having worked together all day and being extremely tired, though we were a little cranky, we weren't out of sorts with each other. I had to agree with her. I've lost my head with people on lesser jobs.
I realize to someone who might be reading this that it doesn't sound like that big a thing that happened to me. I have to say it was huge and profound on a lot of levels. I probably could have had the same experience during a walk or over a cup of coffee. But, I didn't. My attic was my own little chapel last Friday. I have to believe that if I can find Peace in a place like that, I should be able to find it anywhere, anytime I need it.
And maybe that's the whole point: to steal away somewhere - where there aren't any of the normal distractions - in order to connect with God. Of course, such a place could be anywhere: behind the wheel of a car, in one's bedroom, along a scenic walkway or sitting on the toilet in your bathroom. Whatever it is, it's just important to connect with God while you're there.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Depression and What to Do About It
I've being talking a lot to my wife and friends about the stuff I've been dealing with lately. I'm more the type of person who thinks about things - like why am I feeling this way - and tries to figure it out instead of asking for help. Maybe it's because I'm a guy. (I don't mind asking directions - most of the time. I do have my moments. If I'm in a hurry, no way.) I just figure I should be able to shake it off. Maybe I had too much to drink or I ate something bad. If I did, it should have worn off after a day. This stuff is always there. Something isn't right - with me!
My friends started talking about seeing a pyschiatrist and the possibility of needing medication, and I freaked out a bit. I think it's huge that I've been able to come to the realization and admit that I have a problem with depression. I'm learning however that there's a huge expanse between admitting there's a problem and actively seeking out help for it.
It's really a matter of making the call and following through with a visit. It's crazy (no pun intended) but I'm a grown man and I'm actually scared to death that one of these guys might tell me that I actually have something wrong with me. Crazy indeed!
I plan to continue to write about this. A friend of mine recommended a website, Real Live Preacher. It's a blog, more or less, by a real, live preacher who has journaled his experiences on the web - including his bouts with depression and dealing with the treatment of the condition. I hope my experience will be positive, like his. I guess we'll see - together...
Gee, that's weird to say that.
My friends started talking about seeing a pyschiatrist and the possibility of needing medication, and I freaked out a bit. I think it's huge that I've been able to come to the realization and admit that I have a problem with depression. I'm learning however that there's a huge expanse between admitting there's a problem and actively seeking out help for it.
It's really a matter of making the call and following through with a visit. It's crazy (no pun intended) but I'm a grown man and I'm actually scared to death that one of these guys might tell me that I actually have something wrong with me. Crazy indeed!
I plan to continue to write about this. A friend of mine recommended a website, Real Live Preacher. It's a blog, more or less, by a real, live preacher who has journaled his experiences on the web - including his bouts with depression and dealing with the treatment of the condition. I hope my experience will be positive, like his. I guess we'll see - together...
Gee, that's weird to say that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)