My t can slide down the spirals. She gets me. She shines a light within the dark fathoms of my being and sees the strength of my core when I see nothing but wispy tendrils of smoke. My pdoc is a silly little bunny that scampers amongst the oak roots. He's likable but daft. I can make him curse. He just copped my dx from the last pdoc. What if I have been on the wrong meds for the last 20 years? Do I care? No. Why bother caring? All I can do is start over tomorrow. Pardon for being morose but it is perplexing after all these years.