So I think the millipedes are vanquished. Maybe. *bangs on a plank*

I have not seen any since The Great Millipede Eviction, but that means nothing in the world of indoor gardening. They're like ninjas without the cool suits.

I went to the doctor yesterday for anxiety issues, and I think she was twelve. Years old. Or something like that. Am I really that old? Seriously? I'm only 30. Anyway, she looked more and more horrified as I went nonchalantly through my list of issues with this sort of "How are you STILL ALIVE?" expression. I think she's a first year resident. Which means she started just a little bit ago when med school got out for the year. Comforting.

She kept nagging me about my support network and wanted to give me resources, whatever those might be. I told her she could if she wanted to. There was some mention of making me do this dialectic behavioral therapy business, which I staunchly refuse to participate in. You basically sit around and talk about your feelings, which might help if you are not adamantly opposed to sharing anything with strangers. I am. I think it's supposed to make you feel better because other people have your same problem, but I already know all that and it doesn't matter a bit to me. Mostly I'm happy the way I am these days. I just want something to deal with the stupid anxiety!

Oh yeah, I should probably fill you in. The entire reason for this little escapade was because I had nightmares Sunday evening through til Monday morning which woke me up three times with an overwhelming desire to vomit. Salivating, hard to breathe, the whole deal. I'd get up and walk around, get some distance from the dream, and the urge would fade. Poked around on the internet and it appears that these are panic attacks. I've never had them at night before, although I've had loads during the day. I always used to think they (except two really obvious ones) were asthma! Goes to show how much I know... The Albuterol never worked, I suppose that should've been the first clue. In my defense, a few doctors got it wrong too.

SO! We get to me at the doctor's office. With Patrick, who was quite helpful and didn't once tell the doctor that she was rather useless. She gave me Ambien, which is for people who cannot fall asleep or stay that way (not the issue I have), then referred me to the psych department. Fine, whatever. I filled the Ambien but decided not to take it since A) I don't actually have the problem it supposedly solves and B) I don't fancy waking up in jail. Apparently people have sleep-driven while on it. Yes, that's a thing. I know those side effects are rare, but I see no need to take a drug for something I don't have. If I'm going to put up with side effects, it'll be because I'm taking something to cure an actual issue!

Right, it's the next day and the psych department calls me. I talk to them for a bit and it turns out that they don't actually treat you. Ready for this? They give you a "consultation", a diagnosis if you look like you need it (?), then refer you BACK to either the original referring physician for meds (because they won't write you a prescription themselves) or someone else if you need therapy. They do NOTHING for you other than tell you what's wrong with you. More appointments. So you go back, get your meds filled, they presumably need to be adjusted/don't work/whatever, so you have to return to the primary person, get referred again, see the psych some more, go back.... See where I am going with this? Yeah.

This is the most ridiculously inefficient bullshit I've ever heard of. Why on earth wouldn't you write the prescriptions and deal with the patients yourself? Meds take months to get right! Sometimes years! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?

Needless to say I told them I wasn't about to put up with that and I'd go elsewhere. So next week I'm going to call around and see about finding a psychiatrist that I can actually go to and get them to treat me themselves.

In conclusion, the rhubarb is flourishing (read: not dead yet) and I firmly believe my sleeping mask smells like eyebrows. This puzzled Patrick, but I am sticking to it.