Tag Archives: Trihexyphenidyl

I Will Survive!

dreamstime_xs_13606270_edited

At first I was afraid
I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live
Without you by my side
But then I spent so many nights
Thinking how you did me wrong
And I grew strong
And I learned how to get along…

After a tumultuous 40 year relationship – plaguing me with a myriad of annoyances – I’m finding it challenging to cut the cord with my anticholinergic, even now that my brain bionics are waiting in the wings. Flexing its muscles, my anticholinergic is determined to stick around for Act II. However, I’m equally determined to boot him off the show.

Hardly known for my patience, I’ve exhibited unprecedented forbearance in the painstakingly slow process of Walking The Plank, even, shockingly, proactively taking a detour from the weekly weaning schedule when my walking grew funky. It’s all a delicate balancing act of amping up the power to compensate for lost “juice.”

With grad school awaiting me in the fall, I’d love to restore my short-term memory and normalize my urination so I’m not constantly rushing out of class for an impromptu rendezvous with the ladies room. The dream of being pill free shines strong, fortifying me with resolve to go the distance, no matter how long it takes. So Mr. Anticholinergic, as Gloria Gaynor sang so well:

Go on now go, walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye?
Did you think I’d crumble?
Did you think I’d lay down and die?
Oh no not I, I will survive…

Fiddling

13185761_sIn the movement disorder world, “fiddling” has nothing to do with a musical instrument. Like the baby bear sampling bowls of porridge, I’m forever fine-tuning my meds in an overarching effort to get things “just right.” My “fiddling” is motivated by a precarious balancing act featuring a myriad of distasteful side effects encroaching upon my quality of life.

Patients be warned: “fiddling” is for the bold and the brave, every adjustment laden with a risk-bearing proposition. In my present alternative reality, I’m battling the lingering damage inflicted by a downswing in my main med even though I’ve climbed my way back to my prior dose. Voila, the sole result presented by my most recent game of risk is the companionship of my walker. Apparently, elimination of my parade of side effects requires elimination of my anticholinergic, a venture to the Deep South I’ve yet to undertake.

But there’s a moral to this story as I seek to live life without regrets, well understanding that our meaning decisions unavoidably lack the luxury of hindsight.