I slept another ten hours after my last post, effectively blitzing out Sunday. I’m still tired.
Made it to the doctor. He chuckled a little, winced some, and shook his head at the descriptions of my dementia episodes et al last week, and agreed that it had to be a side effect of that medication. He didn’t think there was a need for Alzheimer’s testing, however, but went to the effort of looking up the med’s information to see if anything about it could cause such effects. Nothing of note came up, so it’s possible I’m just one of the lucky sods who reacts poorly to it.
At my mention of partial deafness, he did a quick check and found some fluid behind my eardrums, likely left over from the wicked cold I got at year’s end rather than the med, so he gave me something for that. I hope it works.
I admit his reactions had me unsure whether he was taking me seriously — I know how ridiculous those dementia episodes sounded — until I told him I was scared. The levity faded at that point, but I think he’ll worry only if I start showing some kind of permanent damage as a result of the one dose I took.
Tomorrow, I get to see an anaesthesiologist for pre-surgical screening. I go under the knife in three weeks to extract bits that have been making me sick for decades, and it’ll be a relief to finally have them gone. I know I’ll be in good hands for the procedure, so I’m trying to tell the anxiety to shove off until it’s actually time to be anxious, but it never listens.
At least it won’t cost me anything. Hurray for this aspect of Canadian healthcare.