Waiting for a cab

On Thursday, after my Lamictal follow-up, I went to Whole Foods. After I made my purchases, I went to sit in the seating area while I waited for my cab. The store is in a renovated mill building, and the seating area is lit by natural sunlight coming in from high clerestory windows. It is separated from the checkout stands by a half wall. This week, the wall was topped with orchids -- mostly pink, white, and varicolored Phalaenopsis, but there was one plant that looked like a Dancing Lady. Its flowers were yellow flecked with red, each flower with one lower petal enlarged and ruffled like the skirt of a ball gown.

I sent my grandma a Dancing Lady orchid during her last hospitalization with congestive heart failure. I had flown out to be with her, but she didn't want me to stay until the end. When I got home, I sent the plant. I remembered, as a child, her waltzing me around the living room standing on her shoes, and telling me she loved to dance. I think I wanted her to know in some way that that part of her was still alive to me, and would remain so, even while she lay dying in a hospital bed.

The entrance to the seating area was blocked by two people: a store clerk who was replenishing the napkins and utensils next to the microwave oven, and a middle-aged woman wearing a full-length fur coat the tawny color of caramel. She made a striking impression: high-heeled dark leather boots, high-necked sweater and pants of rich cut and materials, shoulder-length hair either straightened or in a weave, and gold jewelry, with the matching flash of gold dental work in her mouth. She was talking on a cell phone, but looked directly at me and asked "Are you sitting down?" I smiled and said that yes, I was planning to. She looked surprised and told me she had been talking to someone else. As I moved around the table to sit, I noticed that there was a second woman behind me.

The second woman was practically invisible compared to the first one -- short where the other woman was tall, graying hair cropped in a natural cut, unobtrusively dressed in dark jeans and a fleece jacket. The two women sat down next to me and began to talk. We were sitting at either end of a table sized for six people, so I turned away slightly to give them some privacy, but I couldn't help hearing what they were saying.

At first they talked about a mutual acquaintance who was dying of pancreatic cancer. The taller woman remarked that the sick friend had certainly abused her body. The shorter woman replied she didn't think the cancer had anything to do with how the sick woman had taken care of herself, and added that with pancreatic cancer, there was nothing you could do -- it was a death sentence. The taller woman replied that you never knew what was in God's will. The shorter woman said, "No, I saw her recently, and she is on her way out."

Then the conversation turned to relationships, and the taller woman asked the shorter woman how hers was going. The shorter woman said that she had been dating someone for several months, and the taller woman asked her if she was thinking about marriage. The shorter woman said, "No, no, no. I couldn't go through that again. My husband died of pancreatic cancer, you know. Watching him die was I think the hardest thing I ever did. At the funeral, when they closed the casket lid, I felt the pain down deep in my gut. For weeks afterwards, I kept wishing that casket would open up and he would climb out...but other times, I knew he was gone."

I wanted to say something to the shorter woman when I left -- to give her my condolences. I know that pain of loss...but then I would have had to acknowledge that I had overheard the whole conversation, so I didn't say anything.

I don't know why, but this conversation made a strong impression on me, and I wanted to write it down. I tried to get it as close to right as I could, two days later.

As for the Lamictal...here is the scoop.
The 12.5 dose caused serious constipation and itching. However, it was working effectively to help my mood. We talked about other possible options, and the psychiatrist brought up Lithium, but she said she was concerned that, with my super-slow metabolism of drugs, I might end up with toxic levels in my kidneys. So, she suggested that we try an experiment of cutting my Lamictal dose even smaller, to 6.25 mg per day, to see if I could retain the benefits without the side effects. After a 48-hour break, I took the first 6.25 dose yesterday morning. I also had what I think might have been my fourth mood swing episode yesterday, and if I'm right, it was much less severe than the last one. This time, I only had the "up" without the "down", and it seemed to be one sustained episode that lasted for several hours. Being that "up" makes me feel anxious -- the metaphors I thought of this time were a pop bottle after it has been shaken, and Road Runner -- but I was able to control the anxiety with a half a tablet of Xanax (also approved by the psychiatrist). As with the other episodes, I was very tired afterwards, and I slept for over 11 hours last night with vivid dreams.