but joy cometh...

Another sunshiny day in South Bend.

I had a follow-up appointment with my new doctor in Granger. He took one look at me, quickly addressed the headache question, and said, "Are you ready to change your antidepressant?"

I was a little taken aback. I'm used to having to walk into a doctor's office with my own diagnosis, and I've been paying poor attention to myself lately. And my old doctor wouldn't have noticed a problem with my antidepressant if I'd walked into his office with a knife in my hand.

So we're trying something new; I'm a little trepidacious, but hopeful: This guy knows his meds. And he wants to see me back in another week and a half, so he's keeping close tabs. We'll see.

AND I talked to my boss's wife's tax man, who assured me that the Indiana Department of Revenue isn't coming to take me away (haha), and I actually have a ton more money to call my own than I thought, thanks to some strangely lucky breaks. So after a month of hyperventilating money stress, I'm getting a decent-sized check back from the government, and have a nicely padded bank account.

Now I just have to bark at the insurance company.