I woke up a little early and went to the bathroom.
Then I went to the kitchen and got a pot of coffee started. The first person up in our household makes 12 cups, the maximum our coffee maker can produce. And the great thing about this coffee maker is that it has an insulated carafe. To me, the taste of burnt coffee that has been sitting in a glass carafe for 45 minutes is horrific.
Why would anyone want to drink burnt coffee?
Once the coffee starts brewing, I was able to fill my mug. The coffee maker is smart enough that it holds the newest coffee in the grounds while I fill my mug. When I return the carafe to the machine, I can hear the coffee once again dripping into the carafe.
While waiting for the coffee, I had grabbed my laptop out of my home office. Then, with coffee in one hand and my laptop in the other, I opened the front door (and today, I did not spill any coffee as I opened the door) and took a seat on the front porch.
As I opened the laptop, my mind flashed a thought; did I take my Prozac?
I realized that I was not sure. For over four months I have had a morning ritual. I wake and get out of bed between 7 AM and 7:30 AM. I step over to my walk-in closet and put on a T-shirt. I slip on a pair of sandals, flip flops with the one big flap across my foot, not the ones with the annoying piece of strap between my toes. And then I go into the bathroom.
Almost always, I need to use the toilet and I take care of that first. Then I wash my hands. From my food safety classes, I try to wash long enough to sing two verses of “Old McDonald had a farm.” I sometimes rush the second verse or skip it all together. But I always spend a few moments with my hands under the faucet, scrubbing them together. Then, I thoroughly dry my hands on the towel hanging next to the sink.
Only then, do I take the Prozac container off the shelf.
First, I read the container. I always read the container. Once I see the words “generic for Prozac,” I know I have the right bottle. I open the cap and roll one white and green capsule from the container into my left hand. I hold the pill in my left hand while I securely close the lid with my right hand. Then I place the container back on the shelf. Only then, am I ready to take my Prozac.
So now I am on the front porch trying to visualize my actions from 30 minutes ago.
Did I take my Prozac this morning? What was it that made my routine change? Do I need to create a checklist? Should I be logging my medication daily, so that this doesn’t happen?
My mind started racing.
I could hear people sharing stories in a group session I attended where they forgot to take their “meds” and within hours, were feeling very bad. Was this going to be my fate today? Why couldn’t I be confident I had or had not taken my pill?
I left my laptop and my coffee on the front porch and went into the house, into my bedroom, and into the bathroom. I was hoping being at the scene of the crime, I would be able to remember. Once in the bathroom, I tried to picture my steps. I remember really having to pee. And I remember one of the cats meowing, trying to get me to feed it. Maybe that’s what happened.
I probably was distracted by the cat.
I do not remember coming out of the bathroom and feeding the cat, but I often do that while waiting for the coffee to brew. It is possible I forgot to take my Prozac, and left the bathroom thinking about getting the cat some food so it would stop meowing loudly, possibly waking everyone else up.
So now I need to decide what to do about the Prozac.
Do I assume I did not take it? Do I assume I did take it and do not remember? If I already took it and I take it again, how bad would that be? If I assume that I already took it and I do not take it now, how bad will that be?
My prescription is 20 mg. of Prozac daily.
I decided that to take a second pill, if I really did take one, was better than not taking any at all. My attempt to retrace my steps led me to the conclusion that I did not take the medicine. But I am not sure. I am thinking again about a checklist, but what if I do not check it off after taking it? Then I am in the same situation.
So, I read the container, open the container, roll out a white and green capsule, close the container and place it on the shelf. Then I place the capsule in my mouth and roll it onto my tongue so I can see it in the mirror. Only then do I take the paper cup, fill it with water from the sink, and swallow the pill.
I made the executive decision to know I had taken at least one Prozac that morning.
While I am very confident that, in the end, I only took one, I know that I may have taken two. I have an appointment with a Psychiatrist this week and plan to ask about this. I want to get a professional’s thoughts on the best way to proceed if this situation ever presents itself again.
I can report that I did not have any side effects, and I did not start to relapse.
But now I’ve got to go. The cat is meowing again, and I can’t remember if I fed it.
Your comments are appreciated as I continue my journey