Evil, wicked meds

What's that? You didn't get enough of me talking about my allergies in the last post? Oh, well, good. Because I have more to say.

In essence, it's this: The allergy medication I'm on is EVIL. I noticed the very first time I took it, back when Jerry and the boys and I took a trip to Beulah and our doctor friends gave me a pill. A couple hours after taking it, we were at a party with a bunch of strangers and I could literally not get out of there fast enough. It's not that the company was bad, or the music was awful or the food tasted badly (exact opposite on all fronts) ... it was that I literally felt like a lobotomized, exhausted zombie (or at least how I imagine them to feel, having contemplated these things ad nauseum). I could not look anyone in the eyes, much less carry on an intelligent conversation.

So, when I was prescribed the very medication by my allergist, it was not without some reservation that I agreed to take it. Then I found out how much it cost and that wasn't pretty, either.

So I've been on it for two months now, and I've been taking the pills before I go to bed, because of the zombie-like fatigue. Let me state for the record that it does mask my allergy symptoms quite well, and for this, I would gladly shell out for the exhorbitant co-pay. And, for a few weeks, it also was helping me sleep.

But then, the last week ... OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH the last week. The. Last. Week.

See, it's not like I'm normally an exuberant, cheerful person. Or at least not consistently. I'm am given to certain amounts of what could be kindly coined "moodiness." I am also the mother of two small boys, boys who do not feel an ounce of guilt about sitting in their beds at night loudly singing, hollering, caterwhauling, etc. about not wanting to go to sleep, boys who routinely (and falsely ... and here I'm looking at YOU, eldest child) claim to have nightmares, which from what I gather is a dream not involving unicorns shooting rainbows out their ... ahem, horns). So, yes, I have bouts of tiredness.

But, I am also an adult woman who realizes my limitations and eccentricities and, for the most part, I try to keep them to myself. If I'm moody, you will most likely find me tucked away in my own corner of the house keeping quietly to myself so as to not inflict my mood on anyone else. If I'm tired, I just put on a good front and power through.

But this last week was different. I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept. Hadn't slept in, like, 1,000 years. I looked in the mirror and, not for the first time, realized I'd put on close to 10 lbs. very quickly. I started having disturbing dreams, the most recent involving my mother being in the hospital again. And, if you know me very well, you know that A) I almost never dream about my mother and that makes me sad, and that B) having my mother suddenly appear in my dreams but (and this is a big BUT) having her appear so from a hospital bed ... well, that made me very, very upset indeed. As in, I'm almost bursting into tears again just writing about it. There were other details that made this dream even worse, but I'll spare you those, as I'm already blocking them out of my own consciousness.

So, yes ... the allergy drug I'm on ... well, let's just say I'm no longer on it. Last night was the last night. You see, I want my children to like me, and I want my husband to want to stay married to me, and I want my house to not look like the house from "Grey Gardens," and I want to do all that and have all that with 10 fewer pounds around my midsection (well, really, closer to 20-25, but that last bit's on me).

Oh, and I want to sleep. I want to sleep for days, and then, I want to wake up, evil-allergy-med free, NORMAL again.