The word was easy to read even from my vantage point, upside down from the doctor’s view. In front of her lay a sheet of paper. Across the top, she’s written “antidepressants.”
The word may have been followed by a question mark. And it was placed there because of what I’d shared. My son: didn’t like school, had few friends and seemed sorta sad. He was only ten years old. The offer came as a complete surprise.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against antidepressants. In fact, I have taken them myself.Fifteen years ago, a doctor troubleshooting gastrointestinal symptoms, prescribed me metoclopramide.
A month into the planned six-week treatment, I experienced one of its “serious side effects,” namely, thoughts of suicide. A switch flipped inside my formerly rational brain. My thinking became conspicuously different. To counteract this medication-related symptom, another doctor prescribed a tricyclic antidepressant and a benzodiazepine.
• To read Julee Rudolf’s complete blog, go to juleerudolf.blog/2019/02/14/just-like-insulin-for-diabetes/