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jessicagallagherI've been on Geodon since Monday. I was wondering how I could tell if it was “working” or not. With Saphris I noticed a really odd sensation, which I had originally described as a side effect.
I was on my way to work, listening to my usual playlist when I realized that I kept driving nearly the speed limit. Which – for me – is a serious oddity. Normally I'm a speed demon. Then I noticed that the music I was listening to was... slower. The tempo didn't seem as fast, and I could understand the lyrics more clearly, where they usually seemed very speedy and pushed together.
When I described this to Nancy, she grinned. “It's not a side effect. It sounds like your body is... catching up to itself. Like your life isn't speeding by you so much.” When I told Alison the same realization, she had a similar reaction. She told me this was wonderful news, and it was a perfect way to describe how the medication works.
When I switched over to Geodon I was worried I wouldn't notice a difference anymore. The sensation was weird, to say the least, but it comforted me knowing there was some kind of... measurement to the medication's success. But, this morning on my way into work I noticed the same sensation with the music. So, I guess it's doing its job.
I also woke up nearly an hour and a half earlier than my alarm. For two days in a row. Not in the “Ugh, I am so tired, but I can't get comfortable and sleep, so I may as well just get up” kind of awakening, either. I woke up, rolled over and realized the time and then after a few moments I felt like “Okay. It's time to start my day.” For me, this is almost unheard of. I live for the extra moments in bed.
Yesterday, on my way home from work, I was listening to some feel-good music, and enjoying the beautiful fall foliage that is sprouting everywhere. It was my Avon day, so I was doing my back-roads journey home. It was almost sunset... that Golden Hour. Everything just seemed so picturesque... And then I passed a father on a tractor with his young son on his lap, his hands on the steering wheel, waiting for the traffic to pass so they could cross the street. He was so happy, that boy. I could see his excitement, even from just passing by.
I smiled. I kept smiling as I kept driving... and then all of a sudden, I started to cry. Happy, content, this-world-is-kind-of-amazing tears. In that moment, in my car, on that road, with that music, and that sunset... I was actually content. I couldn't think of one thing that could touch me in that moment. I haven't had a moment like that in I don't even know how long.
Here's to more of those moments.
I was on my way to work, listening to my usual playlist when I realized that I kept driving nearly the speed limit. Which – for me – is a serious oddity. Normally I'm a speed demon. Then I noticed that the music I was listening to was... slower. The tempo didn't seem as fast, and I could understand the lyrics more clearly, where they usually seemed very speedy and pushed together.
When I described this to Nancy, she grinned. “It's not a side effect. It sounds like your body is... catching up to itself. Like your life isn't speeding by you so much.” When I told Alison the same realization, she had a similar reaction. She told me this was wonderful news, and it was a perfect way to describe how the medication works.
When I switched over to Geodon I was worried I wouldn't notice a difference anymore. The sensation was weird, to say the least, but it comforted me knowing there was some kind of... measurement to the medication's success. But, this morning on my way into work I noticed the same sensation with the music. So, I guess it's doing its job.
I also woke up nearly an hour and a half earlier than my alarm. For two days in a row. Not in the “Ugh, I am so tired, but I can't get comfortable and sleep, so I may as well just get up” kind of awakening, either. I woke up, rolled over and realized the time and then after a few moments I felt like “Okay. It's time to start my day.” For me, this is almost unheard of. I live for the extra moments in bed.
Yesterday, on my way home from work, I was listening to some feel-good music, and enjoying the beautiful fall foliage that is sprouting everywhere. It was my Avon day, so I was doing my back-roads journey home. It was almost sunset... that Golden Hour. Everything just seemed so picturesque... And then I passed a father on a tractor with his young son on his lap, his hands on the steering wheel, waiting for the traffic to pass so they could cross the street. He was so happy, that boy. I could see his excitement, even from just passing by.
I smiled. I kept smiling as I kept driving... and then all of a sudden, I started to cry. Happy, content, this-world-is-kind-of-amazing tears. In that moment, in my car, on that road, with that music, and that sunset... I was actually content. I couldn't think of one thing that could touch me in that moment. I haven't had a moment like that in I don't even know how long.
Here's to more of those moments.
