Did you miss my introduction or Part I of guest blogger Shawn Ladd’s adventures? Read them here:
After the second SPECT scan, I had a long chat with Dr. Christine Kraus about how to read the qEEG results and what my specific readings could mean (Dr. Kraus only looks at the qEEGs, to avoid any possibility of bias.) The electrical activity in my brain is characteristic of a person who has ADD, who is prone to anxiety, and who may have a mood disorder. Cool. And there are several options that could help, which she’ll report to the psychiatrist for integrating into treatment options. Also cool. Then back to the hotel for my first drink in a week (I took the “no alcohol before testing” admonition very seriously), which turned into several, and one more sunset pee.
As promised in yesterday’s blog post, I’d like to introduce guest blogger Shawn Ladd, who is gracious enough to share his experiences at the Amen Clinics in Costa Mesa, CA. Thanks, Shawn!
I recently spent three days at the Amen Clinic in Costa Mesa, CA for further assessment and diagnosis of my ADD. I had a huge personal breakthrough when I was diagnosed with ADD (primarily inattentive) five years ago, but I’d noticed I was still struggling to initiate and follow through on projects, and was prone to bouts of depression.
Dr. Daniel Amen, known to millions of devoted PBS viewers for his specials during pledge weeks, is a prominent ADHD expert, psychiatrist, and best-selling author. What made him especially credible with me was his open and touching description of ADD in his own life and family, and his framework for distinguishing among seven distinct types of ADD. The Amen Clinics offer a multidisciplinary approach, but are unique in their use of SPECT scans (Single Photon Emission Computerized Tomography) that map blood flow into various parts of the brain responsible for particular cognitive and physical functions, and identify patterns that correlate with psychiatric and neurological conditions.
Some Amen Clinics also offer a quantitative electroencephalography (qEEG), a procedure that yields a similar map of the brain, but using electrical signals rather than blood flow. Curious to see if different methods led to different conclusions, I opted for both.
One of the things I’ve heard the most over the past decade of working in the ADHD field is that it’s extremely difficult to find good information, support, and resources especially in regard to adult ADHD.
I’m sharing a post-event report with you of our recent DOC Institute screening of A Mind Like Mine – An Intimate Portrait of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder in the hopes that you’ll consider hosting an event like this in your own community.
This free event in Toronto, Ontario consisted of a documentary screening followed by a panel discussion moderated by yours truly. The film covers an amazing amount of ground on adult ADHD while being a gripping drama that takes you on an emotional roller coaster – just like ADHD itself.
Some of you have expressed an interest in my progress (or lack thereof) and I’ve promised updates. Here’s the latest.
I’ve noticed a few physical changes, especially in sleep and energy levels.
I thought it was time for an update about my experiment with going off ADHD medication. Yesterday, I confessed about caving in to the temptation to touch a dead screech owl’s beak and talons to see what they felt like (smooth and bone-like, if you’re wondering).
As far as I was concerned, the Screech Owl Incident was one strike against my non-medicated ADHD status.
This afternoon, I received a second strike. That’s when I came up with the “Three Strikes, You’re Out” rule for my ADHD medication experiment.
There are two kinds of people: those who will kiss their cat on the cheek or their dog on the lips and those who won’t. I once had a vet who kissed her dogs on the lips. She’s lived to tell the tale.
As most of you know, I recently made the decision to go off my ADHD medication. I’ve been hypervigilant in monitoring what changes occur in my decision-making, relationships, and ability to find my keys.
I’ve noticed some differences but I’m happy to say not enough to go back on medication. It hadn’t been working very well anyway.
I’ve been off my ADHD stimulant medication for about two weeks now.
When I started taking meds, I promised myself that one day I’d get off them. It looks like that day is here.
I didn’t plan it, exactly. My prescription ran out and my doctor was on holidays so I couldn’t get it renewed.
The medication hasn’t been as effective over the past few years as it had been, so, after about two weeks with no major disasters, I decided to make my move.
Given that some adults don’t respond to ADHD medications (notably Dr. Ned Hallowell, co-author of Driven to Distraction among them) I figure there must be a way to do this.
Truth be told, I’m perfectly willing to go back on meds if my experiment fails.
In ADHD and Gullibility – Part I I shared an incident where I nearly got caught by a telephone scam artist. Those of us with ADHD might be smart, but unfortunately that doesn’t inoculate us against being taken advantage of.
In today’s post I’ll explain why we can be sitting ducks for practical jokers, scammers, and con-artists, and what to do about it.
As kids, a lot of us with ADHD were either drowning in social awkwardness; having too much fun splashing in the pool; or too busy fantasizing about sailing the seven seas to have learned to read social cues.
Untreated ADHDers have been known to use new, exciting romantic relationships to kick-start our brains, without realizing that’s what we’re doing. When we settle down with a life partner and the newness has passed, our drug of choice can change from newness to nookie, nookie, and more nookie.
I’m fascinated by the connection of ADHD and anger. In a previous post called Undiagnosed ADHD Can Make You Angry! I explored some of the sources of ADHD anger before, and also looked at how anger can get in our way when we’re not diagnosed and successfully treating our ADHD.
This week, I had a fascinating encounter with anger.
I felt I was on the receiving end of a nasty bit of injustice. I felt like someone’s punching bag, like there was nothing I could do or say right. You know those days.