Monday, November 14, 2016

No More Angels in the Garden

Sunday at church we had an extra service: a memorial service for a choir member's father. The choir sang a favorite piece of mine Like as a Hart by Herbert Howells. We had an entire service complete with communion (our second for the day). Afterward, we walked out to the garden. The garden where I saw the angels. People were arranged just about the same as the previous week with the clergy in the center on the grass, the congregation at the back near the wrought iron gate and the choir under the ceiling next to the grass. People scooped dirt into a small hole in the ground. This time, everything was in clear definition, each person in their perfect place; each plant in the garden crisp and green and the leaves on the tree, autumn red. I looked, but there were no angels to be found. Ah! Zyprexa, yup that's what you do and you do it so well. I will never forget those angels. Zyprexa can't take that away.

The sleepiness is still with me from the new dose, but I think I'll get used to it. I was on this dose in the past, in fact, and did fine. My psych dr's nurse called today and said they called in a script for 15mg. The doctors at the hospital lowered it to 10 mg when I was there in September this year.

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