Recognizing a Medical Dead End

Here I was, describing pain that had become a constant companion and fatigue so deep that no amount of sleep could touch it, and my primary care physician prescribed an antidepressant. Now, I'm no stranger to this class of medications; in fact, one of them had briefly eased my social anxiety. But this time, the idea seemed far-fetched, a questionable solution. However, in the depths of desperation, I thought, why not give it a try?

Fast forward a year, and I had played the guinea pig, experimenting with four different options. Instead of finding the relief I longed for, all I stumbled upon were unwelcome side effects - nausea, migraines, insomnia, restless leg syndrome. Meanwhile, my chronic pain began settling in for the long haul.

Hoping for an alternative, I mustered the courage to convey my disappointment to my PCP once again. To my dismay, she brushed it off nonchalantly, referring to me as a 'tough cookie'. My eyes widened as I asked myself, seriously? Had she run out of ideas? Why not ask me more questions, dig a little deeper?

As I found myself being the one offering suggestions in my quest for a genuine solution, it dawned on me that she had hit her limit, and my journey for answers had now shifted to a solo expedition.