Chapter Twelve

Will I Be A Zombie?

“Will the medicine help for sure,” she asked.

“Most people with ADD are helped by medication. In fact, nine out of ten people who take stimulants report improvement. But there are lots of different medications.

Sometimes we have to try different kinds or doses to find the best fit. Not every medication is right for every person. That is why we will have to meet at least once a month and your mom will call to let me know how things are going in between our visits,” Dr. Caton said nodding at mom.

She continued, “You will need to talk with your mom about anything you feel. You will need to tell her if you feel sadder, or if you have difficulty eating. Sometimes people lose weight when they start on a stimulant medication, so we will have to monitor that closely.”

Mom nodded and looked at Annie, “We will keep a close eye on her weight.”

“Do you want to try taking the medicine,” Dr. Caton asked and mom leaned in.

Both women were looking intently at Annie.

What if it doesn’t work?

Will it take away all of my thoughts?

What if I’m too different?

Can it really be that helpful?

What does it taste like?

“Does it taste bad,” she asked aloud.

“Most come in a pill form. If you can swallow a pill, it doesn’t taste at all. Some people experience dry mouth or a tin taste for the first several weeks, but that usually subsides,” Dr. Caton answered.

“Would everybody have to know?” She worried that she would be made fun of if the kids thought she was taking pills for her brain.

“No. The pills now come in an extended release form, meaning you can take one pill in the morning, and it will last through the school day. You won’t have to go to the office to take a pill during the school day, so no one but you and your family has to know,” Dr. Caton reassured her.

Annie asked, “Will I feel like a zombie?”

She pictured herself wandering the hallways with a blank stare.

“At first you will feel the pressure of your brain that we talked about. The first day or two that you are left alone with your own brain, with the actual ability to concentrate and think clearly, it will feel strange.

It may be a little frightening to feel what other people feel. As bright as you are, it may be a little scary for you,” Dr. Caton replied, “That feeling and those fears will pass. If you don’t feel better after a few weeks, we will discuss different options.”

Mom finally spoke, “Will she need to take it every day?”

Turning to mom, Dr. Caton said, “She doesn’t have to take if everyday, but I do recommend it. It will help her emotionally to maintain the chemical titration at a consistent level.”

Looking at Annie she explained, “Chemical titration means the amount of the medication in your bloodstream.”

Turning again to mom, “Rebound effect can occur. Rebound is what happens when her brain is sort of sling- shotting around, as the dose is leaving her system. Her serotonin level and/or dopamine level, her body’s natural antidepressants, can be impacted.

So she may appear to be more depressed or cranky as the medication is leaving her system. Sometimes a regular physical activity or exercise program can help to regulate this somewhat.

I’ve personally found that walking on the treadmill during that part of the day has eliminated the problem for me. Everyone is different, so we will have to monitor her closely.”

Silence for a few moments.

“Do you have any other questions for me,” she asked looking back and forth between Annie and her mother.

Annie turned and she and her mother raised their eyebrows at each other. Both then shook their heads ‘no,’ first to each other, then to Dr. Caton.

“You have asked some very important and thoughtful questions. As I said earlier, it is very clear that you are extremely bright and intuitive. I am glad that you are thinking very seriously about this decision.

Why don’t I write a prescription for you? You and your family can discuss the decision further. If you choose to try the medication, your mom will already have the script. If you choose not to try, just shred the prescription. Please let me know either way.”

Annie and her mom nodded.

“I would like to schedule to meet with you weekly for awhile to work on social skills and organizational strategies. We will monitor her progress and will be able to meet less frequently as she learns the coping skills and shows improvement at school and with friendships.”

Dr. Caton stood. She reached out a hand to mom, shaking hands they smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much for meeting with us,” mom said to Dr. Caton.

“It was my pleasure to meet with both of you,” she looked down at Annie, “I am especially pleased to have met you, Annie.

I think that you will be a much happier girl when we can train your busy brain and help you to feel more successful with school and friends.”

Annie beamed up at her.

Could it be possible?

Could she really feel normal?

Mom placed her hand at the small of Annie’s back, scooting her towards the door.

“Please make an appointment with my secretary for next week. We will begin with the social skill ‘How to enter a conversation,’” Dr. Caton said.

Mom and Annie passed through the narrow hallway towards the secretary’s desk. The carpet felt very thick and comforting underneath Annie’s feet.

Stopping at the front desk, Mom made arrangements for Annie to come back after school the following week to begin her sessions with Dr. Caton.

As they left the office and walked through the building, Annie reached for Mom’s hand. She squeezed it, while lost in thought.

What if the kids at school found out?

Would they laugh at her?

Would they think she was stupid or crazy?

What if it did help?

What if she could get better and make friends?

What if her teachers smiled at her and said she was a good student instead of the awful notes about applying herself, and the ‘Why can’t she just’s’?

Annie felt mom squeezing her hand, breaking into her thought process.

“What do you think honey,” she asked looking intently into Annie’s eyes.

“I think that I hope what she said is true. I think that I hope I can be like everybody else,” Annie replied.

“Oh Annie, I would never want you to be like everyone else. I like that you are my unique and interesting little girl. I am happy that your brain is the way it is. I would never want you to be any other way!

But, if the medicine and social skills training can help you to feel happier and make you feel like you fit in, then I am very excited to give it a try,” mom laughingly hugged Annie close.

Annie looked up at her mom, “Me too!”

Chapter Thirteen

What Now?

“Annie?”

“Yes, Mrs. Jones?” Annie responded without looking up from the paper she was finishing.

She remembered her name at the top, and was very pleased with herself.

She had been pleased with herself for awhile now. She had been getting papers turned in on time, even the ones that took days or weeks to complete. She wasn’t getting overwhelmed by the enormity of any big projects.

In the past, Annie would be so overwhelmed by a large or lengthy project that she couldn’t ever seem to begin.

Now, she just dove in and that was that!

The furrows between Mrs. Jones’ eyebrows didn’t appear nearly as often. Mrs. Jones’ seldom had the hands on hips, glaring posture when she talked with Annie now.

The notes home were no longer needed, and the horrible pit in her stomach ’fear’ Annie had so often had on the ride home was no longer present.

At first, Annie had really NOT liked the pills and how they made her feel.

Annie began taking them on a weekend. Dr. Caton recommended a weekend so mom could monitor and watch for side effects.

When Annie woke up, mom handed her a small blue and white capsule and a glass of water. Annie swallowed the pill and waited.

Nothing.

What if it doesn’t work?

What if it does work?

What…

“Annie, let’s go have breakfast,” mom had interjected.

Annie felt nothing for an hour or so, but then she felt…different.

She felt fuzzy, not quite right, but not quite wrong either.

Annie had a difficult time answering questions her mom asked as they walked through the grocery store that morning.

She felt…entranced. She felt entranced by her own brain. She felt like there was a pressure on her brain, but also that she could really THINK.

She was able to think about SOMETHING, not eight million something’s at once. It made her feel kind of irritated when anyone intruded on her entrancement.

It was hard to give up that feeling to the intrusion of questions by others.

The feeling lasted most of the morning. She tried at first to “see through it.” It was kind of like she had glasses on that were too strong for her. She mentally tried to fight the effects of her medication at first.

She knew what to expect after Dr. Caton explained it to her, but it was still very disconcerting for the first few weeks.

Annie also noticed that when peopled talked to her; she didn’t feel quite as anxious inside.

Normally, when people talked to her she felt uncomfortable. She felt like putting her hand over her mouth constantly, and she giggled too much.

Even when nothing funny was said, she giggled nervously. Annie normally felt awkward around anyone who wasn’t family. She felt pressured about what she might say wrong, or forget to say, or say too loudly.

After most, if not all conversations, Annie mentally kicked herself for things she said or didn’t say.

Why didn’t I ask more about them?

Why did I say that?

Why didn’t I say…?

It was easier to avoid talking with people and social settings, than to experience the way she beat herself up afterwards.

Now, Annie noticed that she didn’t feel the need to cover her face when she talked with people. She could ask questions and fit into the conversation better. Annie didn’t get upset with herself about everything she said or didn’t say.

“This is a very good thing,” Annie murmurs to herself.

Annie did have a difficult time eating normally for the first few weeks. She sort of hovered between being ravenous at odd times, usually around 10:00 in the morning; other times she was borderline nauseous.

Annie learned to snack lightly throughout the day. At night, after the medication had worn off, she was able to eat a normal supper with her family. Dr. Caton said that she was pleased when they met. Annie had lost a little weight, but appeared to be maintaining well. Dr. Caton said that if she lost too much weight they would have to discontinue the medication.

Annie found that she could write more easily. She could sit down and actually finish a paper instead of jumping up to get something, wandering, daydreaming, or thinking of thirty new topics. Mrs. Jones appeared to be very pleased with this in particular.

“Annie, I am very proud of the effort you clearly put into your report on the Aztecs,” Mrs. Jones had said in front of the whole class just last week!

Annie had been very pleased, and her cheeks turned pink at the praise.

Sometimes Annie missed her old self though.

Sometimes she missed being able to be lost in her own thoughts and the creativity she felt. Annie missed her “own world” sometimes. Annie couldn’t flit from one topic to another as easily.

“Annie,” Mrs. Jones touched Annie’s shoulder lightly.

Somewhat startled, Annie replied, “Yes, Mrs. Jones?”

“Would you like to go with Miss Timpkins now?” Mrs. Jones was still smiling down at her.

It was so nice to see Mrs. Jones smiling, instead of her usual pucker-faced, frown-line expression.

Mrs. Jones smiled at Annie a lot more now. She called on Annie more readily, as she no longer needed to scold Annie to wait her turn, at least not as often.

Annie didn’t feel as embarrassed when she answered questions in front of her peers. She didn’t feel the same compunction to blurt answers or give lengthy litanies.

“Where are we going? Annie asked.

“Oh, well, I’m not exactly sure,” Mrs. Jones said, “But I’m sure Miss Timpkins will be able to explain.”

Annie walked out of the classroom and down the hallway. It was a large hallway with high ceilings. Annie had walked down the same hallway since she was in Kindergarten.

In the past, entering the school building and walking down the hallways had given Annie a yucky feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The other students bustling by had unnerved her somewhat. The jostling and locker banging left Annie feeling disoriented and edgy.

Annie had never noticed that any of the other students looked to be affected by the experience. In fact, Annie had often marveled at how they milled along, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil Annie had boiling throughout.

It their defense, Annie had perfected the art of pasting on a half-amused smile. She had adopted the affective façade early on in life. It was easier to assume the expression of complacence, than to constantly try and explain herself.

“What’s wrong Annie?”

“Why are you scared?”

“Does your stomach hurt?”

“Was someone mean to you?”

Annie had tried and failed to describe her feelings over the years. How do you tell a teacher that, yes she had forced the other children to include Annie, but when Annie went to play with them, she didn’t have a clue HOW to play together!

When Annie was in Kindergarten, and was trying to join a group of kids, they had told her, “No, you can’t play with us. We only play with our friends.”

Annie had tried to protest that she was their friend too. She became more and more upset as she was seemingly incapable of making her point understood to the others.

When the recess aide intervened, Annie told her that they were being hypocrites because some were allowed into their little group and others were excluded without cause.

The recess aide made Annie stand by the wall for the rest of the recess for using words that she didn’t understand.

Annie was crushed.

In first grade Annie had complained to her teacher that the other girls weren’t letting her play with them on the swings. When Miss Krentz, their teacher, instructed the others to include Annie, they had grumbled.

For a few minutes, Annie swung on the swings next to them. Then, unceremoniously, they left as a group. Annie tried to act like she didn’t care, but the tears hovering in her eyes gave her away.

“Why can’t I just be normal?”

“Why can’t I just fit in?”

“Why can’t I….”

Annie couldn’t remember a time in her life that the familiar chant hadn’t been a part of her existence.

By the time Annie was in second grade, she had her own little box. Not a figurative box, but a real one. It was an old stove box. They placed it over Annie in her desk and cut out a ‘window’ in the front to allow Annie to see the teacher.

A study carrel they had called it.

“Annie can’t seem to keep from talking to her neighbors.”

“Annie’s fidgeting is distracting to the other students.”

“Annie needs extra barriers to help her focus when I am teaching.”

A list of reasons for the entrapment was provided. What wasn’t provided was the cushion for the blow to Annie’s self-esteem. Also not provided was the protection from the taunts of other students.

“What’s the matter box girl?”

“Did they let you out of your cage?”

“Hey weirdo, what’s it like in there?”

Annie suffered the jabs with a smile, pretending that she thought they were funny. Annie never thought they were funny. She knew she was different, and the box simply proved it to her and everyone else.