Yesterday, I got to my psychiatrist’s office 10 minutes early. I sat in the parking lot with the music on. The sun was starting to go down a bit. I happened to look in my rear-view mirror and what did I see? "I Myname" written on the dirty rear windshield. I knew my husband wrote it there. I also figured it was a sign that maybe it's time to get into the ole’ car wash line. Or maybe not! I'd be really sad to see that message gone.

Of course, I talked about my dad during my psychiatrist session. I think my pdoc knows my dad better than any of my dad's past doctors combined. He even suggested something for my siblings and me to talk to the hospital doctors about. He said they now have an injectable Naltrexone that lasts a month. It helps curb alcoholics cravings. I had taken the pill form in the past, but found it less effective than the med acamprosate, that pdoc also mentioned. But apparently the new injectable Naltrexone has proven efficacy. It may not stop dad's drinking, but maybe at least cut it down.

It came up that I wish I could coerce my dad to finally go to a psychiatrist. I doubt I'll succeed (I’m deluding myself), but I asked him if he thought Dr. X would be good. To my surprise, he said that he would be willing to accept him. Of course, I think he's the best doc, but believed such an arrangement wasn't recommended. But pdoc said that in this case, it could be advantageous since he has so much information already (though just my side of the story). I’m still not sure, though. Plus, my dad likes to tell doctors what HE wants them to know, which is usually misleading or even downright lies. Anyway, I believe Dad would otherwise like him, but if pdoc ever suggested to him that he had bipolar disorder, that would likely be the end of visits. Note that pdoc would never pre-diagnose him based on just my stories.