Flat-Lining

I’ve been sitting here at the second-hand kitchen table that doubles as my desk, fingers poised over the keyboard, trying to come up with some blog-worthy thoughts. My exhausted brain is just laying in my skull, whimpering, “Help me, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

Why is your brain fatigued, Alice?

This pan-damn-ic has it totally shut down. My mind is sad, miserable and out of sorts. I can’t seem to shake my intellect into action. I’m not alone in this ennui. My doctors tell me their practice has been treating more depression since March than ever before. Yes, they’ve seen a lot of people with the Covid19. However, lots more of their patients are visiting because extended isolation has left them feeling so low.

The practice, Doc’s Outside the Box, is a combo of Western and Eastern medicine. I love the care I get there and their unique approach. They don’t prescribe many pharmaceuticals. They do lean heavily on natural supplements.

For the many patients dealing with feeling so down, they are recommending plant-based magnesium called EZ Mg. I add it to my oh-so-delicious-nutritious (not) morning shakes.

The Docs also suggest magnesium capsules called Min-Chex. And they even offer magnesium IV drips. I’ve had two. They did lift my spirits temporarily.

Yum Yum. Yes, it looks like vomit.

I found this unique practice when Jim and I moved to Saint Petersburg.

Back Story:

I suffered from a skin rash for YEARS. I just perused my old posts and don’t see any mention of that. The Cliff Notes version: In about 2003 I got a rash. The rash got worse. And worse. Finally, it became so extensive I was covered head to toe and I was scratching until I bled. I ended up bouncing from Doctor to Doctor. I was seen at the University of Wisconsin Grand Rounds. About forty doctors (and a couple of random janitors), strolled past and gazed at me in my purple panties, took photos, shook their heads and ultimately they all concurred, “Bad Rash!” Their solution? Steroids.

I got a moon face. My hair fell out. It got so sparse I once decided to color my scalp with auburn colored markers. After I had finished my artwork I strolled across the street to show my friend Brookie my creative bald-head solution. She took one look, gasped, and asked, in horror, “Why do you have stitches off over your head?!” I had to admit, I did look a bit like an accident victim.

Shortly thereafter Brookie and I took a fine field trip to a wig shop. I ended up with a cute shaggy blond synthetic head of hair. My “stitches” no longer showed. But the miserable rash remained.

Next, it was recommended I see the dermatologists at the University of Chicago Hospital. I was told, “No steroids for a week before your visit.” By the time I was admitted my body was again head to toe flaming red itchy welts.

Upon my arrival, the dermatologists ripped up bed sheets, soaked them in some sort of solution, wrapped me like a mummy, administered IV steroids, loaded me up with Valium, and kept me for three nights to get the whole mess under control. Diagnosis? It was “the most profound rash” they had ever seen.

Treatment? More steroids, more moon-face, more misery.

Fast forward we moved to Florida and finally landed in Saint Petersburg. My good friend, Charki, swore that if anyone could fix me it would be Doc’s Outside the Box. Two Doctors–one a board-certified cardiologist, the other a practitioner of Eastern medicine. Their approach? They took a detailed history, studied my skin and my diet and my lifestyle. Then they put me on a protocol of specialized supplements.

It took about eight months of following their guidelines before I finally, for the first time in YEARS, shook the miserable rash.

I now trust these doctors implicitly. I even trusted them when they put me on an anti-viral (?) I was to take just before/during/after the full-moon. (Yes, it’s true. Jim tells me NOT to share that one with people. It sounds too wacky for his pedestrian approach to medicine.)

Now I’m trusting them to put Brain Dead me back together again. I swill my weird shakes, gobble Min Chex capsules, avoid watching the news (they noted my anxiety increases exponentially when I steep in daily miserable updates. When I get anxious, I sometimes get itchy.)

I know I’m not alone with these feelings. This heartbreaking pandemic has paralyzed the planet. I pray daily for a safe vaccine. And for sensible leadership, honest leadership, science based leadership.

(Uh Oh. Now I’m wandering down a mental path that threatens to cause more panic. I think I’ll go gobble a few Min-Chex and escape into a novel.)

Hopefully between now and next week my brain will rise like a phoenix! But with or without that wee exhausted pile of gray matter I will be here next week, pounding the keys and keeping my promise to myself.

You just rest, Brain. I got this.