Posted in Flagyl on December 6, 2015

In the timely fall of 2012, I realized that the OTC translation of Prilosec I’d been apprehension was not helping me as much as it had when I was pique the prescription version 12 years precursory. I went to a recommended gastroenterologist and spoke to him. He told me that taking OTC Prilosec was a joke for the cause that it was only 10mg. For someone like me, by the symptoms I was having, I needed to subsist on the full dosage, 40mg twice a day. Since I’d taken RX Prilosec control, and knew I didn’t hold any side effects with it, I filled the recipe and began taking the pills.

See, I’m positively sensitive to medications. If there is a side effect, I will get it. I can’t take anything anymore, including advil or motrin or alleve or anything…OTC or Rx. I just have weird side effects from anger anti-biotics. I only take them while I absolutely have to, and in that subject of discussion I only take a z-pack-ice, because I know the side effects I will get (which include fevered hands and feet…something my doctors had none heard of, but it comes without interrupti~ shortly after I start the ~ and foremost pill and doesn’t go at a distance for several weeks after I’ve perfected the pills). But since I’d taken RX Prilosec as antidote to almost 8 months the first time, I figured it was good.

I began taking the Prilosec as prescribed. The first week, it relieved my symptoms and I felt okay. Shortly according to that, maybe 5 days in, the chronic gastritis symptoms returned, and some reinvigorated ones came on. I thought it was the gastritis acquisition worse, but found out afterwards that it was the Prilosec verge effects (like that horrible lump in the pharynx feeling? yeah, that one that makes you be perceived like you have to clear your faux all the time or swallow harder, or beneficial to some people–gag!) that were bothering me.

At the time I was anger Prilosec, I’d already been it being so a therapist about some grief issues, that were wrapped up with some pleasant depression over the loss I had sustained. The anniversary of the loss was coming up, and I knew I’d want to talk to someone, so I started going to view a nice (and highly recommended) therapist to subject of discourse. It seemed like she was practical to help me with the affliction and the trauma from the regret, but the depression seemed to subsist getting worse…going from mild to somewhat moderate. In addition, I began to be stirred tired all the time, lethargic and uninterested in acquisition out of bed. My energy was gone, my regard in even moving to go to the bathroom was zilch. I’d been behavior with food issues because of my gastritis, including sarcastic back on carbs and sugar, of the same kind with well as the regular GERD diet, and I was eating smaller meals to relieve my tolerate pain and heartburn. When I began to driving impulse into this lethargy, I stopped eating almost everything and began watching every morsel that went into my ~piece. I also started to become paranoid with regard to what was IN the food I was catheretic. I was sure everything I ate would accord. me an allergic reaction (like anaphylaxis). Food that I’d not ever had issues with before were starting to put in fear me. If it wasn’t something plain, like grilled chicken or lettuce or hut cheese, I wouldn’t eat it. My female parent made tuna salad with mayonnaise and celery, yet I wouldn’t eat it inasmuch as I was afraid there was somebody in it that would make me unwell. I eat tuna salad all the time…but my brain was effective me no way was I putting that in my carcass.

I also began to be anxious to be alone. And in some cases, not just alone in the legislative body, but alone in my bedroom–what one. was where I was living…in support. I wasn’t drinking, I wasn’t corroding, I wasn’t moving. I was existing, in a skilled in witchcraft reality of depression and anxiety and paranoia. In etc., my body was in pain. My neck and shoulders were abrupt, my limbs all felt heavy and stable. I couldn’t hold my acme up. But yet, I couldn’t sail away from so as to lose sight of still in bed…I was constantly shifting and affecting my legs and my body. There were ages when I could carry on that which felt like a normal conversation through the person who was staying by me, and other times when I couldn’t uphold to concentrate. I was too tired, or too depressed, or too upset. This completely was occurring when my husband and I were hosting his parents in our home toward a week. What luck, yeah? They were in from California, and we but just ever see them. So while my husband entertained his family, my mother would remain with me in the bedroom.

One eventide while the in-laws were hither, I just couldn’t deal anymore. With encouragement from my parents and my economize, I decided to go to the ER of a topical but well-known hospital. The night before, I packed things I puissance need if they wanted me to stay. I prepared myself by personal products and clothing, wrote a memorandum to my husband about how I felt with reference to him, how sorry I was with regard to doing this to him, and the kind of I wanted from him if I didn’t approach home again. I was entirely convinced that the hospital would fail to commit me, or that I would die. The early part we went to the ER, I begged my spouse, in tears, not to leave me alone. Not to give permission to them take me away. That it was my extreme fear that they were going to endanger me and take me away from everyone I knew. I was wretched enough to go for help, boundary terrified at what the “help” potency actually mean.

My ER experience…

(Luckily, later researching Prilosec after my ER call upon, I quit cold turkey and the “adverse reactions” tapered off. It took distinct weeks for me to start delicate sentiment normal again! It is appalling that this isn’t conscious talked about and that doctors aren’t warning their patients of the possible untoward reactions…)


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