I discovered the other day I had filled the wrong strength of one of my meds. I also got a new prescription when I was at the doc's. So, this afternoon, when I got home from the hospital, I retrieved all the wrong pills from my dosers and carefully wiped off the pill dust. I grabbed my bag, stuffed in the pill jar, hunted for my headphones and headed out the door.
Headphones in my ears, I rifled through my bag for the phone. It wasn't there so I rolled my eyes at myself and continued walking.
200 yards later I realized I had forgotten the new prescription, so I turned back. I used Skype to locate my phone, but because the ringer was off I had to locate it by the buzzing. I was convinced it was in my other bag and a low buzzing noise in the vicinity seemed to confirm that.
I went through the bag, emptied it out, shook it, called back on Skype, went back to shaking the bag. A buzzing to my left interrupted me; the phone was lying on the table plugged in to the charger.
By this time I knew the prescription wasn't in that bag either. I stood there frowning at the bookshelf until I recalled it was in the notebook of medications I always bring to my doctor.
Script, pill jar, phone and headphones secured I set off for the pharmacy again. After the pharmacy I was planning to go to the grocery store to get some aluminum foil and baking paper, I forgot the last time I was there. As I walked I decided I wanted to listen to Jason Mraz and got stuck on the first song, Burning Bridges (reminded my of Frank). I set it to repeat and leaned on a fence to look up the lyrics.
Eventually I got to the pharmacy, and its owner was very gracious about the dosage issue which I am certain was my fault. I headed out on to the grocery store; Burning Bridges back on repeat, singing along.
Halfway down the street I realized I hadn't filled the script, so I headed back, got it filled and got back to the singing.
At the grocery store I found myself staring absentmindedly at the strainers and jar openers. My brain shook itself like a wet dog and aluminum foil snapped into place, and I headed to the other side of the store.
I pondered prices and usages and settled on a brand of foil and another of baking paper.
I went through the checkout, and at the end, when the cashier smiled and said thanks, I said "Hi!", my brain shock itself again and I bumbled through a weird, "oh, right, thanks, I mean".
I made it home without loosing my way and am lying in what I hope is my bed.
I do this a lot. I have given up on remembering where the phone is; I always use Skype. I have glued a box to the monitor to hold my computer glasses, when I switch that's where I put my everyday glasses. I keep my keys and wallet attached to each other and to my pants. I have a key box attached to my house for when I manage to lock myself out anyway.
Most often it happens in the grocery store. I never decide what to get until I am there and I rely on pattern recognition to recall what I need. I walk around looking at things, and often find myself in some isle without knowing why I am there and keep walking until I remember. Ted hated how long it took for me to do groceries.
Sometimes it's not benign and I am thankful that I haven't been hit when I have accidentally run red lights on my bike.
I am used to forgetting, but it usually does not happen many times in an hour. Usually the jolt of recalling brings me back to the moment.
I am hoping it's not a side-effect of the Lamictal. I want it to be Seroquel withdrawal. I have same hopes for the tremors. I can live with tremors though, even if they get as bad as they were when I was on Welbutrin.
Burning Bridges -- Jason Mraz