Ok, perhaps I should start by tempering by last post a bit. I am not going to make a claim that all generic drugs are evil. What I will say is that they are not always identical to their brand-name counterparts, regardless of what the drugs companies and the insurance companies might lead you to believe. I’m sure some generic drugs work for some people. But if you have taken Drug X for years and years and are suddenly switched to the generic, be aware that the side effects could be radically different. In theory the therapeutic results should be the same (though I personally will wait for further proof of that before believing it).

So, onto my story.

Sometime in January I went to the doctor for my routine annual exam and was prescribed my usual birth control pill (Ortho Tri-Cyclen). This was all well and good, as I had been taking this particular drug for five-plus years without any problem. However, when I went to drug store, the pharmacist recommended that I substitute the generic version (Tri-Nessa). Now I have pretty good insurance, so there wasn’t an extreme price difference between the two, but $5 instead of $15 is still saving money. I was a bit leery, but the pharmacist assured me that the two were “exactly the same.”

I started taking the generic, and forgot entirely that I’d even made a switch (since, after all, the two drugs were supposed to be therapeutically identical). If I’d realized I was actually switching medications, I would have been on the lookout for side effects. Instead, the side effects came, and I looked far and wide for other causes.

The first side effect to hit me was unprovoked crying spells. Now, I do cry pretty easily, but there’s usually some reason, even if it’s only a sappy commercial. These crying fits were inexplicable. I couldn’t stop myself from crying, but I had no idea why I was doing it. In many cases I made some little problem into a bigger deal than it was because I convinced myself that it must be the reason I was crying, that on some level it was bothering me more than I thought it was.

The crying quickly morphed into ridiculous mood swings and episodes of extreme depression. I am prone to depression anyway, but I really thought I’d been better since moving back here. I’m quite happy with my life right now, and the depression had me really worried. I started to believe this was something I was going to have to battle on a daily basis, which sunk me into an even deeper depression.

As I got more depressed, I lost touch with far-away people and spent less and less time with those closer. People would email, and I would forget or ignore the email. Phone calls went unanswered and were returned only after prompting by Matthew, who wanted to stay in touch with my friends, even if I suddenly didn’t.

As is typical with depression, I also lost motivation to do things that had once interested me. I grew lax about running. I spent less and less time on my Russian homework until I finally stopped going to class altogether. It wasn’t that I was totally incapable of working out or having fun. When Scott would come over to run with me, I usually enjoyed it. When Matthew would drag me to bowling or baseball games, I had fun. But I just couldn’t put any effort into deciding what to do or making myself do it. Worst of all, my sex drive completely waned. Suddenly sex seemed like a hassle, a waste of good sleeping time. I knew—mentally—that I enjoyed sex, but I just couldn’t get excited about it and my body wouldn’t cooperate when I did try. I attributed all of this to the depression.

The emotional and mental side effects were bad and scary, but I was reluctant to see a psychologist because I hadn’t had success with that in the past. And I knew I had always been able to snap myself out of depression in the past by keeping active. But somehow I just couldn’t do it this time.

However bad the emotional side effects were, it was the physical ones that had me really scared. I started getting headaches that bordered on migraines. Even when my head didn’t hurt, I sometimes felt like I was in a fog that I just couldn’t shake. My vision was blurry, something I eventually realized was a sudden inability to wear contacts. I figured it was allergies, or maybe time to buy new contacts. I was nauseous and bloated more and more often.

These could all be explained away, but my recurring yeast infections were more difficult to explain and were the cause of my eventual panic. I won’t go into detail, but they weren’t fun. Anyone who had bought over-the-counter yeast infection medication probably knows that there are warnings about the possible causes of recurrent infections, which include, among others things,diabetes. With my family history of diabetes, my common blood-sugar problems, my headaches and vision problems, I was convinced that the infections were a sign I shouldn’t ignore. I became completely paranoid and hypochondriacal, reading descriptions and symptom lists for not only diabetes, but every disease that might give me any one of my symptoms. This became especially bad between the time when I scheduled the doctor’s appointment and the actual day of the appointment.

Finally, two days before I was scheduled to go to the doctor, I made the connection that all of this had started around the time when I switched to the generic pill. Although I still thought it must be unrelated, I decided to see if I could find any information about Tri-Nessa. I soon found a website of patient reviews. After reading descriptions of more than fifty women who’d had no problems on Ortho Tri-Cyclen and suddenly developed awful side effects (many similar to mine) on Tri-Nessa, I began to realize that everything I was experiencing could be explained just by reading the side effects list included with the medication. Of course, these are the same side effects one could experience on the brand-name, but for some reason the generic was interacting differently with our bodies. On a blog was a story that sounded like it could have been written by me. Women on bulletin boards on other websites had similar experiences. A ray of hope entered my life with the thought that all of this would go away if I just switched back to my old drug.

A visit to the doctor yesterday confirmed what I was thinking. My wonderful doctor said that she’d heard stories like this about generic drugs, and it upset her that the pharmacist had changed my prescription without informing her. She agreed that switching back to Ortho Tri-Cyclen should clear up everything, but she humored my paranoia and tested me for diabetes anyway. She seemed to think it was a little odd that I wanted to switch back in the middle of a pack of pills, but she sympathized and wrote the prescription anyway.

Of course this is a costly move on my part, since I had already purchased one pack of pills this month and have now spent $45 for basically one-and-a-half weeks of pills (since insurance will only cover one pack every four weeks), but I have no doubt it will be worth it. I did not want to spend one more second on a drug that had such a negative effect on my body. I already feel better today, which I’m sure is more a result of knowing that the side effects will go away than it is a result of the one pill I took this morning.

It’s entirely possible that at least one of my “symptoms” was caused by something else, and maybe I really do need new contacts, maybe I do have unresolved emotional issues to deal with. But I’m fairly certain I will be much happier and healthier in a month or two.

So—be careful with generic drugs, and don’t take Tri-Nessa, no matter how much money it might save you!

A long post is coming at some point soon to explain my absence from the blog. It will probably be too much information for some. But the basic point, in case you choose not to read, is: generic drugs are NOT the same as their name-brand counterparts. Do not let your doctor/pharmacist/insurance company tell you otherwise! And I officially do not have diabetes.

This may be disjointed...

--Just got off the phone with Chryssi! Yay! While I miss her trmendously, it's fantastic to hear how happy she sounds in London.

--Happy Earth Day everyone! I don't know what I'll be doing to help the environment (other than taking public transportation, which I do anyway.) Maybe I'll look into ordering recycled products for the office. Hmmm. If it wasn't raining right now I'd go outside and hug a tree. If anyone wants to join me when it stops raining, let me know. :)

--Last year around this time, the students here were selling shirts with the name of the school on the front and on the back: "where fun goes to die." This year the back reads: "where the only thing that goes down on you is your GPA." At least they realize what big dorks they are. :)

--Went to dinner last night with a prof at Wright College. He asked me why I left California. I have my usual pat answer that I loved the geography and climate and hated the people (though not all of them, obviously). Usually people just nod knowingly and let it drop. But this prof pushed me on specifics. When I was trying to explain what I meant it dawned on me that I had always felt like living in SB was a transient existence. I think I need to meditate on this a bit, but it may be that I would never have been comfortable and rooted in grad school, no matter when or where I went. I think at some point I reached a point where I wanted and needed stability. Mind you, it took a good long while, but still. :)

I've convinced myself I have type 1 diabetes. I may have to re-subtitle the blog "hypochondriasis at its finest." In any case I had already scheduled a doctor's appointment next week, so if I can stop myself from freaking out until then I can get the opinion of a medical professional to back me up (or more likely, prove me wrong). Whether or not it's totally irrational for me to think I'm diabetic, it is a good idea for me to be occasionally tested, as my grandfather had type 1 diabetes that onset around age 30 and I've been dealing with hypersensitivity-to-sugar issues for at least ten years.

Ok, done being neurotic for the moment. :)

So unhappy with the election of Ratzinger!! I have disliked this man for years and years. Oh well, guess I'm not going back to the Church anytime soon.

I bowled a 147 last night!!

Of course in the first two games I didn't break 100, but hey, at least my single-game score is improving occasionally :) Maybe I'll break down and buy shoes and a ball now, especially since my usual alley ball was mysteriously missing last night.

On a totally different subject, if you're the kind of person who throws a hissy fit every time you see a misplaced apostrophe and you haven't yet read Eats, Shoots and Leaves, go read it immediately. That is all.

We're back. Ridiculously tired, but back.

Nothing like waking up at 3 in the morning to get on a plane and go to a full day of work!

But it was well worth it for a wonderful relaxing weekend of seeing the family. (And skipping work to watch baseball!)

In lieu of a weekend wrapup, I direct you to Matthew's analysis of The Jake.

For the third weekend in a row, I am leaving the state!

Ok, the first two were just day jaunts to Milwaukee, but still...

This weekend, Matthew and I are headed to Ohio. I would like to claim to be a good daughter/granddaughter, but the real impetus for the trip was that Matthew wanted to go to Cleveland's home opener against the Sox.

However, I can still appear to be a good granddaughter because it is an especially good weekend to go home, for several reasons:
--Sunday is a surprise 70th birthday party for my maternal grandmother. I suppose if she reads this blog, it won't be a surprise anymore, but if she reads this blog she's probably had enough surprises.
--This is the last weekend my paternal grandmother is spending in her house before moving to an assisted-living home and likely the last chance I'll get to be in that house.
--The one-year anniversary of my paternal grandfather's death is this weekend.

Anyway, whatever the reasons, I'm very happy to be going to Ohio.

Argh. It's one of those morning already. The train shut its doors in my face as I got to the top of the stairs on the el platform; a bus was pulling away as I got to street level after departing said train; I have figured out that two things are scheduled in the same place at the same time, which, though not my fault, is my problem with which to deal; and now I must run to a dredfully boring meeting that will accomplish nothing except the wasting of valuable time.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about sports fandom. I come from a family of die-hard fans of Cleveland sports teams. When my father was born, they put a football in his hand, and since that time he has loved the Browns. It doesn’t matter to him that the Browns of today aren’t the Browns here grew up with, that the team was moved to Baltimore and then re-created. He will root for them against all others and against all odds. My mother is similarly obsessed with the Indians. She grew up going to Indians games, often with free tickets for getting straight As (note to other teams: letting kids go to games for free is a terrific way to build a paying fan base in later years…) Now Mom watches or listens to almost every Indians’ game every season, and she knows the history and stats of the team as well as any announcer. With the exception of Northwestern teams, I don’t have this single-minded devotion to any sports franchises. There are teams I love, to be sure, but that love is often an ephemeral thing. Do I obsess over the Indianapolis Colts? Sure, but only because I love watching Payton Manning play and especially love watching him break records. Will I care about the Colts in a few years when the next big quarterback is shattering these new records? Nope. Did I find a way to sneak a radio to the coffee shop to listen to Cubbies’ playoffs games while at work two years ago? Yes, but only because I was extraordinarily bored with my life in Santa Barbara and desperate for anything that reminded me of Chicago. Do I follow them now that I live a mile from Wrigley? Nope.

At times I’ve thought of myself as the very worst of the fair-weather fans, rooting for the Indians when they finally got to the World Series or for Lance Armstrong when he attempted his sixth (and easiest) win of the Tour de France. Is that it? Do I only care about winners?

While it would be easy to buy into that theory and write myself off as a bad fan, I don’t think that’s the underlying reason for all my allegiance-swapping. After all, Northwestern football has let me down time and time again, but you don’t see me cheering for USC. Rather, I think I just need a hook to become interested in a team. I didn’t root for the Indians growing up in Northeastern Ohio because no one (except my mom) rooted for them then. They may have played a mere 60 miles from my house, but it was nearly impossible to follow them when no one cared. Indians’ “highlights” rarely made the news and sports announcers found any other sport to talk about. Once they started winning, it was easy to follow the team, since all of northeastern Ohio went a little Tribe-crazy.

That’s not to say that I’m a lazy fan. In fact, I tend to be quite obsessive, constantly checking stats and rankings. It’s just that I like to be sharing my obsession with others, even if I’m doing so passively by listening or reading, rather than speaking or writing. It’s easier to connect to a team when others are doing the same. I followed every nuance of the Cubs’ playoff in 2003 because I was listening to Chicago sports talk radio every day at work. I followed every nuance of the Indians’ playoff in 1997 because I had a boyfriend who was doing the same.

Now that I’m tracking every move of the White Sox, it’s easy to think of myself as a traitor (even though I was a White Sox fan, then Indians fan, then Cubs fan) or a bad fan. But the truth is that fandom is simply more fun when it’s shared. I’m quite certain that if I lived in Ohio right now I would be a diehard Indians fan. But I live and work in Chicago, and frankly I feel much more connected to Chicago than I do to Cleveland, despite the family connections.

And so I root for the White Sox today as they battle the Indians. Next week in Cleveland may be a different story.

When I'm at the stadium tomorrow, I'm going to buy tix to the Monday, April 18 Sox game (7:05 vs. Minnesota). Tix are $7 (no fees if you buy at Comiskey). Anyone in? Tell me by email if you are!

In case I haven't mentioned it lately, I love my mother. Sure, she drives me crazy sometimes, but she gives me moment of extreme amusement. An example. Earlier this morning I had a voice mail from my mother. The content of the message was something like this: "Hi Kel. It's Mom. I just had to call you because I'm driving to work and that radio station that always has Rush Limbaugh and all those conservative talk show hosts now has Jerry Springer. I know everyone thinks he's a joke because of his TV show. But he's really good. He's liberal, but he makes sense. I don't know how a conservative could listen to him and think he's wrong, but of course they would. He makes sense, he's good. I don't know if you get him there, but you should listen. Love you!" :)

I got a raise!

Ok, so that's not quite as exciting as it sounds since the only reason I got it is that the union finally got its collective ass in gear and negotiated a contract. But hey, 6% is 6%. No matter how you look at it, I'm taking home more money each week. Woo! Now if only I could get out of the union and stop paying them $30/month...