If I had one, that is. Which I don't. But if I did have one, this would totally be grounds for revocation.
On Saturday morning, I noticed Mark's ADD prescription was running low--only six pills left. I called the doctor's office first thing today, only to find the doctor is on vacation this week, and will refill the prescription next Monday. As in SEVEN DAYS from now. That sound you just heard? That was me weeping.
Just to add more fun, Mark has state testing at school this week--four more days of tests, three more days of pills. I'm no good at math, but even I can tell this doesn't add up correctly. I just had my first panic attack ever.
Then I realized something even worse--there's also a weekend between now and next Monday. Which means not only will Mark pretty much blow a whole day of testing, he'll then spend an entire weekend unmedicated and driving me insane.
On Saturday morning, I noticed Mark's ADD prescription was running low--only six pills left. I called the doctor's office first thing today, only to find the doctor is on vacation this week, and will refill the prescription next Monday. As in SEVEN DAYS from now. That sound you just heard? That was me weeping.
Just to add more fun, Mark has state testing at school this week--four more days of tests, three more days of pills. I'm no good at math, but even I can tell this doesn't add up correctly. I just had my first panic attack ever.
Then I realized something even worse--there's also a weekend between now and next Monday. Which means not only will Mark pretty much blow a whole day of testing, he'll then spend an entire weekend unmedicated and driving me insane.
I just had my second panic attack ever.
As soon as I had that thought, I had a third thought that both shamed and calmed me simultaneously. I realized if I skip two of Mark's school day meds, I can cover the weekend, and maybe keep hold of that last bit of sanity I have left.
This is the conversation that ran through my head upon that realization:
Rational Heather: You're totally going to hell for that thought. Of course you'll use the pills on the testing days!
As soon as I had that thought, I had a third thought that both shamed and calmed me simultaneously. I realized if I skip two of Mark's school day meds, I can cover the weekend, and maybe keep hold of that last bit of sanity I have left.
This is the conversation that ran through my head upon that realization:
Rational Heather: You're totally going to hell for that thought. Of course you'll use the pills on the testing days!
Crazed Heather: He's only in 6th grade--how much do those tests really count anyway?
Rational Heather: They COUNT!
Crazed Heather: The tests only last 90 minutes a day. The weekend is 48 hours. In a row. OF INSANITY!
Rational Heather: The tests are important.
Crazed Heather: So is my sanity.
Rational Heather: You're not making a good case for being sane!
Crazed Heather: EXACTLY. Can you imagine how much worse I'll be after a whole weekend of this?
Rational Heather: I give up.
Rational Heather:
Crazed Heather: Welcome to the club!
Even after reading that exchange, on paper, in black and white, I still side with the crazed part of my brain. I'm guessing that doesn't bode well for Mark's test scores...
Even after reading that exchange, on paper, in black and white, I still side with the crazed part of my brain. I'm guessing that doesn't bode well for Mark's test scores...
But it does provide a good argument in my upcoming discussion with the pediatrician. I will I beg, plead and maybe cry to get Mark's prescription upped to 90 days, instead of 30.
And if that proves unsuccessful, I'll simply ask for an additional 30-day prescription. But this one is not for Mark, or ADD. It's for anti-depressants--for ME!
