The worst thing about letting your blog lapse into dormancy is the awkward walking-back-in moment: “Hi! Remember me? And my blog? Where have I been? Oh, those busy, busy holidays…” It’s every bit as excruciating to type as it is to read.
And yet if I just jump in and start as if my last post was dated yesterday instead of two whole seasons ago it somehow feels less than genuine.
So maybe instead of trying to do some kind of long, musing post – my usual style – I’ll just free-associate some random observations about adjusting to the whole ADD business.
First of all, I am still adjusting, in the sense that I haven’t just…well, added it to some mental file drawer and moved on. ADD is still a “hot topic” for me, something on the short list of Stuff On My Mind. Naturally, it’s partly because there’s a daily reminder in the form of a pill that I take: Good Morning! You have ADD! But I don’t have the same reaction to, say, my birth control pills: Good Morning! You have functional ovaries! No, it’s just the ADD med that seems to have some sort of added significance amongst the assortment in my day-of-the-week reminder box.
One issue that never seems to permanently resolve is do I really, really, REALLY have ADD?
At least once a week I feel like some kind of faker, or whiner, or something. She couldn’t handle the workload, so she got some drugs! It doesn’t help that those family members I’ve told seem to keep the idea at arm’s length, for various reasons. (A future post topic, most likely.) And it really doesn’t help when I’m out and about in the world, and I encounter somebody – kids, usually, because with three of my own I’m around a lot of kids – and my first thought is “Wow, is he ever ADD.”
Because I quickly realize I’m saying it from some place I have never occupied. I was never like these kids myself. Of course it’s the same forces at work that keep inattentive types from being discovered: I’m seeing the hyperactive kids, they’re the ones that everybody notices, including me. But all the same, the behaviors they exhibit are so unlike anything I’ve ever done in life, that it’s hard to imagine I have anything in common with them.
Maybe it’s like this for others who receive the inattentive dianosis, with the symptoms that, for the most part, can’t be seen. Sure, sometimes people catch me not paying attention. Sure, I can go in and say “I suck at paying attention.” But how does the doctor know – and, for that matter, how do I know – that I’m not just suffering some humungous bout of insecurity? That nagging feeling of I could do better – what does it really mean?
How much more useful it would be if doctors could see inside my head, count the number of times I’m Someplace Else? And even more useful still if doctors could see inside everybody’s head, and count everybody’s Someplace Elses? You could plot it all on a graph, just like height and weight in the pediatrician’s office. “Let’s see, your attention level puts you in the fifteenth percentile; let’s think about trying some medication.”
Instead, of course, it’s pretty much all up to me, and whether the doctor agrees with my self-assesments. Every visit, I’m given a fresh copy of that same old form:”How often do you fail to pay close attention to tasks etc etc etc….” Never, Rarely, Sometimes….The pen hovers. Um, never! If I’m not seeing it, how do I know I’m missing it?… No, make that All the time, because I just know I could do better! How about I just split the difference and say Sometimes….And can I have a fresh copy of this questionnaire, please?….
Currently I’m at 50 mg Vyvanse. We’ve been steadily ramping me up, 10 additional mg every three months, and the big puzzle, always, is, where do I stop? Am I still seeing a benefit? Am I seeing more benefits than at 40, at 30? It’s so hard to know – I find myself sitting in the doctor’s office, weighing ridiculous things in my head – is a good 40 mg day equal to a bad 50 mg day?
Can my oops moments be quantified? Three yesterday, two today? There are so many ways to screw up: Is a forgotten load of laundry that never makes it to the dryer worth more, or fewer, points than losing track of time and making your kid late to ballet class? That box I’ve been meaning to move upstairs, the one that is still sitting there…is that one point, or five, for the number of times I’ve thought “I’ve got to move that box,” and somehow managed not to complete the thought with the action? Should the math be based on duration, or consequence? It only takes a fraction of a second to forget that you can’t move a hot pot back onto the burner without an oven mitt….
So, nearly one year in, and still plagued with doubt. That kinda stinks.
As far as tangible improvements….
I guess the biggest is I’ve stopped missing appointments. I just wish I could figure out why. I got a couple of whiteboard weekly calendars – one for the kitchen, one for the bathroom mirror – but it seems I only update them every other week. As in, it’s still last week around here, according to my whiteboard. But maybe the meds are helping me follow through long enough to write a quick note when the confirmation call comes in.
As for my household tasks, well, I had this whole lovely system I designed where I assigned a chore to each day of the week. Things were going well for a while, but then my part-time job started up again, and then, phhhht. It wasn’t too obvious things were going to seed at first, because my initial cleanup efforts were pretty thorough. But now things are starting to pile up in rooms I’d cleaned out, and my vanity – the beginning of the new me, the very first area I straightened up – is a disaster. I merely have to stand in front of it, and things fall off onto the floor – ka-dink! What was that? I didn’t even touch anything!!!
OK, admittedly, there’s another force at work there. In January I got braces. Yes, having them in high school wasn’t enough fun; I had to go do it all again here in middle age. I wouldn’t have bothered except that my bite was getting so off-kilter that my upper and lower teeth were nearly strangers. The othodontist’s first question after looking in my mouth: “How do you chew?” Not very well, thanks, and here’s your enormous check.
Dental floss (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Here’s why ADD and braces are not a stellar combination: Flossing. It’s awkward enough sending all that string into the nooks and crannies of my teeny-tiny mouth, but now I’ve got this wire fence around everything, and so I have to use these floss threaders and maneuver the string underneath the wire, then back out again, then over to the next tooth, except which one is the next tooth? By the time I’ve worked my way out from under, I’ve completely lost track of what tooth I’m on, and since I’m sort of crazy-afraid of gum disease, well, that means I have to err on the side of caution, meaning I’m probably flossing the same teeth over and over again, and it takes something like twenty minutes to go through the entire oral hygiene routine, and my vanity now has to have room for all sorts of new mouth rinses and a Water Pik and special toothpaste and regular toothpaste and itty-bitty bristly things and so, no, it’s not really at its sparkly best, my vanity, and that goes for whatever vanity you happen to be discussing.
And that’s how I’m doing. Better, but there’s still room for improvement. Right now, that’s about all there’s room for around here.
The Brain Fog Blog 