You mess with Mr. Rogers, and you mess with me.

Blame It on Mr. Rogers: Why Young Adults Feel So Entitled

Man, I hate it when people badmouth Mr. Rogers. I never felt entitled to a grade I didn't earn, and I don't think I should change just because people don't like my attitude or I don't fit into the cookie-cutter my parents' generation thinks a woman my age should.

So, in response to Jeff Zaslow, here's my favorite video ever, Mr. Rogers addressing the US Senate for more funding for public broadcasting:





"...I give an expression of care every day to each child, to help him realize that he IS unique. I end the program by saying, 'You've made this day a special day, by just your being you. There's no person in the whole world like you, and I like you just the way you are.'"

For your personal use and edification, here's a link to the Mr. Rogers Snopes page. I will try my best to make sure that the name "Fred Rogers" will always have good connotations. After all, he would've done the same for me.

MGH Study - week two.

I went to Mass General Hospital for my second visit. My doctor was far more tolerable this week - I'm going to chalk last week up to a fluke. I'd probably be curt with a spaced out girl who forgets years when she's trying to recount her medical history.

They didn't have to take more blood and were aghast at my huge arm bruise from phlebotomy. I was apologized to on at least three separate occasions.

This week, however, I was chided for something else: a year and a half ago I went to get new glasses and the opthamologist noted that one of my pupils was noticeably larger than the other. She gave me the number of a neurologist I never called. When asked why I never took the referral, I replied that I was certain I hadn't had a stroke, so there was no need to worry about it immediately. I'm aware that this was probably a bad idea. Anyway, my study doctor was satisfied with her conclusion that I had no signs of neurological damage, but she did encourage me to get in contact with a neurologist. Uhhh... sure. Maybe when I have insurance again.

In addition I have
- surprisingly good/responsive reflexes.
- had really low blood pressure both weeks now (yet continue to eat a high-sodium diet).
- elevated levels of cholesterol (despite eating a diet free of meat and low in dairy/eggs).
- an increased amount of thyroid dealies (thyroxine? triiodothyronine?).

The latter two are news to me, and have been a complete change since November(?) when I had my yearly physical and got a ton of blood tests done. My dad claims that the cholesterol thing is due to the fact that I "don't exercise" which, if you've met my dad, is hilarious to hear, because this man is carrying a spare tire to fit a truck. I'm choosing to be fake-annoyed about being (not actually) called fat.

Now I get to take the SAMe/sugar pill twice a day, along with my once-daily (now free!) Effexor.

MGH Study - week one.

My depression is overwhelming me and I don't have state health insurance yet (I'm currently unemployed). The Massachusetts General Hospital depression studies were recommended for me because I'm currently paying about $150 a month on depression medication that isn't even working for me. Once I'm eligible for a study, they'll pay for all my medication, and all I have to do is take a sugar pill (or the experimental drug/supplement, I guess).

For my first MGH depression study meeting, my doctor judged me about my past alcohol use (who knew that going to class drunk means that alcohol prevents me from fulfilling my responsibilities? Clearly this woman has never attended Emerson College) and brushed off the phrase "my roommate assaulted me," turning it into, "oh, I thought a girl slapped you or something." People skills much?

This really nice girl tried to take a blood sample from me and pretty much failed. I felt really bad about the whole thing, because it is sort of my fault that my veins are so tiny. We went across the hospital campus to the phlebotomy lab where we waited about 20 minutes in the understaffed clinic for an overworked woman to jab me. She around in my arm for 10 minutes before deciding I had no blood in me after all. The nice girl had the most horrified look on her face throughout the ordeal.

It didn't really hurt, but soon after...



I'm more lethargic and spaced out than ever - even my boyfriend is incredibly concerned. I really hope this SAMe or sugar pill makes me feel better. And uh.. failing that, I hope this opportunity to get free medication somehow gets me off Effexor.

MGH Study - an introduction.

I'm currently enrolled in a depression study at Massachusetts General Hospital. The study evaluates whether SAMe, when given to a subject who is already taking an antidepressant (specifically, one that isn't working all that well), improves his or her condition.

I'm choosing to repost my Livejournal entries chronicling this search for an antidepressant that works because for a few reasons:

1. I don't believe that depression is something to be ashamed of. There is something chemically wrong with me. I would not be ashamed if I had a bad knee from a sports injury; I should not feel any different about a chronic mental condition.


2. Depression is a crippling condition, and one I would not wish upon my worst enemy. I feel obligated to do anything possible to make sure other people don't suffer without treatment for as long as I did.


3. I am working on The Artist's Way 12-week program (uhhh.. I'm expanding it to fit my needs), and I figure writing publicly on the Internet will make me more accustomed to criticism.


4. In a similar vein, I need to remember how to edit old work.

Okay, so, here we go. As of this writing I'm not quite three weeks into the study.