Oh, my god. That’s the side of my face I can’t stand. Not only that, I was carrying 20 lb of what my friend D calls ‘seroquel spiderbelly.’ So I kept it black and basic.
Just the story. Just the facts. And you know what? I cried a little on stage….or tried NOT to cry, but someone has to have compassion for me. And for the rest of us out there. We need a Tardive Dyskinesia national advocacy group.
Guess who is thinking about starting one? I am on disability insurance, can’t earn money, and am tired of seeing my name in print.
So, this cause, as dreary as it is, deserves someone to reassure others they are not alone and they can get better, even if their doctor is telling them to ‘learn to live with it.’
Everyone always says it would be so much better for us if we had a ‘single payer’ system. But I’m here to tell you, if you have a difficult problem…if you live in a country like England, you could never see a total of 9 neurologists over the course of 5 years. So….I’m grateful for Medicare and Disability, I guess.
I just read another study, this one in Britain, based on 900 studies. They estimate the risk rate….this is called ‘incidence rate’ at 20% in a patient’s first year, and then add 3% more for every year of antipsychotic use. And not all atypical antipsychotics are created equal, either. Some are way more causal than others.
I’m not saying these are bad drugs, but do we all need them?
I believe I could have handled my bipolar disorder without them. Just good mood stabilizers. That’s it. Next Stop?
New Orleans, and my husband is coming with me. And I’m going to speak.