It was an insignificant dose, but I couldn’t see past what they were. I don’t need these; I don’t take these, so why was I holding two packs of them, enough for two months?
It comes down to my feet. I have type II diabetes and my feet are starting to become very numb. I can hold my big toes in my fingers and not feel it in my big toes. Uh-oh. I called my GP for a podiatry referral which he happily arranged, and then he suggested I start taking a pill to slow the progress of the numbness. Ok, fine, I can do that.
From the pharmacist I merrily skipped with a song in my heart and some pills in my hand, until I got home and read about what I was holding. It seems these pills, this numbness-slowing wonderdrug, was an antidepressant.
In hindsight my reaction was daft. It was pre-programmed by years of hearing stories from friends and the media about how destructive these things can be. It was pure instinct to make excuses to not take them. I talked myself into knots when I thought about it, but at the end of the day I had no reason to not trust my doctor. This was a well-known off-label use of this drug, and after calling my doctor again and confirming that I had the right pills I started taking them.
It’s a tiny dose compared to what the instructions in the box say the minimum dose should be. They’re unlikely to have the effect documented in those instructions, but they will promote blood flow to my extremeties, which is what I need right now.
Initial instinctive panic aside I’ve made my peace with the fact that this means I now take an antidepressant. I feel I need to delve deeper into why this is such an issue for me, but for now here’s hoping they stave off the loss of a foot or two, at least for a little while.