Friday’s withdraws were BAD. In the last hour of work, it got so much worse. And I was hidden underneath my desk, thinking how awful it would be if I ruined everyones day and went to the hospital.
When I finally got home, I broke down and ended up in the bathtub with all the lights out. I sort of consider it my little comfort place. I hadn’t been in the bath for more than one minute when my phone rings. It’s the psychiatrist I saw a few weeks ago with some info about pain specialists and biofeedback. And while I’ve got him on the phone, I tell him about this horrible withdraw situation I am in. He writes me a one month prescription and I pick it up from CVS. It was the simplest fix, and here I was thinking I was going to end up in the hospital. Sometimes it just amazes me how things like that can fall into place.
In the meantime, I’m only taking half the Cymbalta dose until I can get a new neurologist. I swear there’s nothing scarier than a sudden detox from a medication!