This Is Not How It Looks
By ginagold on January 03, 2009
I find myself saying "This is not how it looks" an awful lot, but one particular time was really scary. I knew that if I didn't convince the powers that be that it was not how it looked, I could be locked in the looney bin in an unflattering gown and padded slippers. It all started when I was pregnant and terribly nauseous. I mean I was nauseous to the point where I would just sit on the bed everyday and rock back and forth crying. I was staying at my moms house because I was to sick to be alone while Ari's dad was at work. I didn't want to take an anti-nausea medication but I couldn't take it anymore. I was given Compazine suppositories and sent on my way.
the medicine didn't help much but it took some of the edge off. it was about two weeks later when I noticed I was having really anxious thoughts but I assumed this just must be a really bad pregnancy. The next day I went out of the house to the car to get something and as I hit the driveway I noticed that my arms were in a strange position. My elbows were bent, my shoulders were raised and my hands were facing downward, I looked like a marionette. I thought "that's strange, what are my shoulders doing up so high? this is a really weird pregnancy". The next day I was going out with my mother and as I came down the stairs my mother was staring up at me in disbelief.
"why are your arms like that?" she said. "You look insane!"
"I don't know, they're just like this." I said.
"Well put them down!" She said rather annoyed.
"I can't, they won't go down"
"Then you need to see a doctor."
I figured there must be some logical explanation so I waited another day. This time my mother found me in the back yard walking around the pool trying to control my anxious thoughts. My shoulders were even higher now and when I tried to push them down it just looked like I was dancing.
"How embarrassing Gina, get in this house before someone sees you." she said.
"Is that what you're worried about, I have bigger problems!" I said.
I went straight to the emergency room and told them I was so uncomfortable I wanted to jump in a lake. Well that was the wrong thing to say. The next thing you know I was escorted downstairs to the looney bin where my shoes and personal belongings were taken. I was given a white gown and padded slippers. By now my shoulders were all the way up to my neck and I looked like a total lunatic. On top of it I couldn't keep still, I had to keep moving. I was separated from the rest of the group because I was pregnant and put in a room with glass windows so the whole staff could see my crazy dancing. I thought to myself "You've had some low moments but this Gina Gold is the worst." The doctor finally came to see me with a nurse who sat down and I started to talk. I knew how I looked and I wasn't sure how I was going to convince the doctor that I wasn't crazy, especially since I wasn't sure I wasn't crazy.
"Listen doctor, this is not how it looks, I am not crazy" I said as I paced back and forth.
"I don't know why my arms are doing this, I don't know why I'm walking so fast (I was crying now) but you have to believe me, I am not crazy I'm just having a really bad pregnancy. I'm not suicidal, I'm just uncomfortable"
"Do you have a history of depression?" he said.
Oh shit I thought. "well I had some depression but this is not depression, this is something else" I said.
Then I thought "okay Gina, just start throwing out any thing you're doing that could be causing this."
"I had broth this morning and a prenatal vitamin oh and the Compazine for nausea..."
"Compazine!" the nurse said. "Oh my god you're having a dystonic reaction, stop taking the Compazine and we will bring you some benadryl"
I thought "What the hell was a dystonic reaction. For god sakes, I'm pregnant. Are these doctors out of their minds?"
"It's not harmful to you or the baby, just stop taking it and you will be fine" the doctor said.
When i woke up the next morning my arms were back where they should be and my thoughts weren't racing anymore. I was really relieved but also angry that I had taken something that made me look like I was doing a puppet show while I was pregnant. I went back to the doctor who prescribed the medication and told her what happened. She said " Oh that often happens with Compazine, did I give you that?" I clinched my teeth so I didn't say "ya bitch, you did." Instead I said nothing. I figured that was best.