Yesterday I met with my pdoc and we decided to adjust my meds…..again. I always thought I was adaptable to change, but my God, will it ever stop! We’re going to try and wean me off of Depakote because it is likely to be one of the reasons I’ve had the shakes so badly. (chihuahua Syndrome) When we were discussing this we were both happy about it, because another one of the side effects is weight gain, and that would mean I would finally be no longer on any of the meds that are notorious for that dreadful side effect.
The above picture is of my niece. We’re are nearly identical in thought about every taste, including wondering why anyone would waste good cookie dough by cooking it. Last week, she and I decided to have a cookie dough party after Maurice and I stumbled on a 3 1/2 pound tub sold at the grocery store. Can you imagine? I don’t know who invented these fabulous kegs of dough, but I love them…or hate them. I’m not so sure which. An hour after the discovery, she and I were sitting on the couch, watching movies, and enjoying spoonfuls of the stuff. Clearly she can afford a cookie dough party. I’m a different story.
I’ve been hovering between 285 and 290 pounds for almost two months now. Each day I pound my fist through the wall, and each night I cry myself to sleep. Okay, those are gross exaggerations, but it is damn frustrating. I’m thinking I should call my pdoc and tell her that I should stay on my Depakote. I mean, if I no longer have a weight gaining drug to point my finger at, then what in the hell will I do? I shudder the thought that I’ll have to admit that things like cookie dough parties are the culprit. When that day comes it will be a sad, sad day.
P.S. Don’t attempt to mention the dangers of eating raw cookie dough, or you’ll get a virtual punch in the mouth.