Over the course of this end of last week and this weekend, I learned that I can be itchy. Or I can be witchy. (okay, okay, so I'm putting the cleaned-up version of what I said to my husband last night on the blog).
On Monday I started new medicine - zoloft - to help with the mood swings and all the lovely crap going on that we think is hormonal related ... as in my hormones are going totally crazy and surging and spiking and one minute I'm having horrible periods and the next I'm hot flashing like I'm in the throws of menopause. Which is awesome. If by awesome, you mean absolutely not awesome.
Usually, my gynecologist informed me, the first thing we'd do is start the birth control pill. Except I'm special and can't take it (because my breast cancer grew on hormones. So if I started putting hormones in my body and on the off chance there was any cancer left floating around somewhere in there, it'd be like going here, cancer cancer, come get your food so you can grow nice and big) But, never fear, my gynecologist reassured me, because we could use zoloft and it often works well for women in my shoes.
So I started it. I dutifully took it every night. Thursday night, as I was sitting and crocheting, I had a weird surge of needed to itch - mostly my back and my head. And I got hot. Which I didn't think much of ... usually during hot flashes I tend to get a bit itchy.
Then Friday early evening hit and every. single. spot of my body itched. EVERY SINGLE SPOT. I was rubbing my back on the wall, and using my hands to itch my face, my scalp, my arms, my stomach, my legs, my feet. I was also crying BECAUSE I COULDN'T STOP ITCHING. And just for fun, let's throw in a panic attack because why in the world was I itching everywhere and why couldn't I stop.
So I called my husband in a panic because I was ITCHING EVERYWHERE and oh, yeah, we don't have any benadryl (generic or not) in my house. And also? I THOUGHT I WAS DYING.
God bless this man, because as calmly as can be he assured me he was already on his way home from work and he'd pick me something up and I should just hang in there until he got home.
So I popped a xanax and tried really hard to not itch. Also, called an attempt at the impossible. Husband came home and brought benadryl lotion that we rubbed everywhere. Then I yelled at him because I NEEDED SOMETHING STRONGER AND WHY DIDN'T HE BRING ME PILLS BECAUSE I NEED PILLS. To which he calmly (again, this man deserves an award) said he's go back to the pharmacy and see what else he could find.
Long story long, he came home with pills. He had talked to the pharmacist and she thought it was the zoloft and I should stop it ASAP and talk to my doctor. And so two benadryl, and one oatmeal bath later, the itching stopped. Of course, I was also basically passed out from the benedryl, which was probably the best thing for me and for my husband who I clearly yell at too much.
Wouldn't you know it though? Saturday night? The itching returned. This time not as horribly, but still not fun. And last night? Itching. Again. But slightly better.
Sigh. So I joked with husband I could be itchy or witchy.
The doctor's nurse today told me we could try something else. I'm not sure I'm feeling up for it. They're going to try to call back tomorrow so we'll see what they say then.
Now pardon me, while I go itch. Because just thinking about it MAKES ME WANT TO ITCH! ;-)