After a very frustrating morning of driving an hour and then waiting for 2 hours in a Norristown clinic for my appointment, I finally saw a nurse. She came in and handed me a form and said, "The doctor wants you to fill this out so she knows how to treat you." I filled out the simple questionnaire, trying to wrangle Fern away from the clipboard, paper and pen. It was one of those, "How many times have you felt _________ in the last 2 weeks" types of forms. I filled it out, and waited another 10 minutes until the nurse finally came back for the form.
10 minutes later, the doctor came in, and said based on my answers I am, indeed, suffering from depression. However, she said, because I am nursing Fern, I can't take anti-depressants. She gave me a form to fill out to bring to the County Assistance Office (always a fun trip) to re-apply for Medicaid based on disability. Now I have another appointment in Norristown, at which I will get set up with a counselor for therapy, hopefully somewhere a bit closer to home.
As she was walking out of the room, the doctor reached out and touched my shoulder, and I thought I was going to crumble and disintegrate. This didn't feel like help. I waited weeks for this appointment, and really thought I would be leaving with a prescription. I wanted to cry, but as much of parenthood is, there is no space to feel, no room for processing emotions, and I had to get Fern packed up and get back to Tray and Sage so he could head to work (which he was already 3 hours late for).
Of course, the kids fell asleep on the car ride home. Which always means that Sage's nap gets cut short (no way in heck am I going to drive around for 2-2.5 hours or sit in a 150 degree car that long), and she is super cranky the rest of the day. In a moment of clarity, I decided the best thing was to go to McDonald's for some water.
Hmm, well what I ended up having was a tad less healthy. Here's the visual:
Me, on my "wheat-free, dairy-free mega-diet-to help Fern's ears", sitting in my car, chowing a Big'N'Tasty WITH CHEESE in a Wal-Mart parking lot. BAH HA HA! Oh yeah, and don't forget the Diet Coke. No, I didn't have any fries. That would've been excessive.
I am glad that today it seems even a little funny. I wonder when I'll learn that food doesn't heal wounds.
Need I say that our health insurance situation in this country is ridiculous? I was listening to NPR the other day about France's health insurance and some other European countries', and had to turn it off. My plan is, if I can get health insurance, to wean Fern and re-assess. Any weaning advice? She really won't take a bottle, and isn't into sippy cups at ALL.