a random journal entry

The following is such a dumb, little story, but I’m writing it out anyway.

My mother, sister and I were at Trader Joe’s yesterday looking for some dried currants. We didn’t find them, but I believe I spotted Dr. F, my new ECT psychiatrist in the frozen foods aisle. I nearly froze as I saw him; I could not say hello to him. I’m not quite sure why I became so nervous from seeing Dr. F. After all, he is such a nice doctor that I’m glad he is my ECT doc.  But maybe it had something to do with the fact that I’ve only met him three times, twice for brief moments just before the ‘little sparks.’ Still, how could I have been that nervous to see someone who knows quite a lot about me? I still feel a bit odd about this whole near-meeting.

Speaking of seeing Dr. F, my next ECT is in a little over a week.   After listening to  how I was feeling last week, he told me that I will be receiving ECT every two weeks for few more series rather than moving it apart to once-a-month. As much as I have a tendency of talking about my ECT days like a routine dental appointment, the amount of nervousness I felt when he told me about my ECT frequency did indicate to me that I had a fair amount of apprehension and worry left in me. (Maybe it is this feeling that carried over into my hesitation toward seeing Dr. F.)  The thing is, ECT is becoming even more routine than going to a dentist. ECT is now a part of my life that gets planned around like it’s a weekly meeting where I must be in attendance. As I think about class schedules for the fall, I find myself planning to sign up for classes that accommodate my regular ECT schedule. It apparently looks like things will work out in the fall, schedule-wise.

Perhaps I should have approached Dr. F at Trader Joe’s. Dr. A, my regular psychiatrist, is on vacation this week and I could’ve used some face-time with a professional. Oh, well. I’ll be seeing him at Parthenon Pavilion for many times to come.

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