Yarn Shopping

Yesterday, Brandon and I drove to the town of Wooster for a Saturday afternoon get-away. Wooster is a lovely town about an hour north of where we live, with cute shops and a few organic/local food-themed restaurants. A delightful vineyard is on the town’s outskirts, so we even stopped for a glass of wine on our way into town. Our destinations in Wooster were a yarn store, a music equipment store, and a bakery/restaurant for dinner. Because we got to town soon before closing time for the yarn and music stores, Brandon and I went our separate ways to visit our respective shopping destinations.

My store of choice was the yarn store. As I wandered among the colorful yarns of varying textures, I couldn’t help but overhear different conversations. The owner of the store seemed to be cultivating an environment where one felt comfortable to discuss any and all topics.

The first conversation I overheard was between the store owner and a woman about my age, maybe a little older. The customer was looking at patterns for infants. She had recently been through the adoption vetting process, and had been approved. Now all she had to do was wait, and make plans to knit a “welcome home” gift for the baby. Since all conversations about babies and adoption make me a little teary, I became misty eyed as I listened to the two ladies chat.

The second overhead conversation was between two ladies as they knit the world’s largest sock (an ongoing project at the store). Their discussion was about family, ailments, hospitals, and psychology. One of the women chose the moment I was standing near the table to reveal her cancer history. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer at 36 or 37 (she looked now to be in her 60s or early 70s). At some point many years ago, she had surgery to remove her ovaries. About two years ago, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Her story yesterday afternoon was about the experience of learning that one’s cancer has metastasized and the treatments that followed the new diagnosis. If you have ever been diagnosed with cancer, the fear of learning that your cancer has spread or returned is a nightmare that haunts all visits to the doctor. I could barely contain my sad emotions as I overheard this one woman’s very personal story.

I quickly chose 2 skeins of sparkly blue/gray Borocco yarn, paid for the yarn, and scurried out of the store when I began sobbing. With nowhere to hide, I spotted a nook in the front of nearby bank. I tried to stop crying, and the cold cement seat in the nook helped a bit. Since I have decided to not take anti-depressants, I do need to get better control of my emotions. Luckily Brandon soon wrapped up his shopping and was able to console me. We then went to eat our delicious dinner. I had a goat cheese and spinach salad with crab chowder. Brandon had a goat cheese and sausage pizza. For dessert, Brandon chose bananas foster and I had a Belgian chocolate crème. It was a day that deserved a dessert finale.

Rainy Days

A doctor recently suggested I try the anti-depressant Prozac. While prescribing the medication, he expressed surprise that, considering the events of the past year, no other medical professional had suggested I try anti-depressants. The thought had never occurred to me.

I have never taken an anti-depressant. In my ignorance, I assumed that you could take them the same one one takes an anti-anxiety drug -- on an as needed basis. Turns out that is not the case, and now I am leery of trying the prescription. After discussing the prescription with my therapist, I now understand that one needs to take the pills every day for multiple months before even knowing if the pills work. I'm not so sure I want such a daily commitment.

The potential benefit of Prozac is the end of my random bouts of crying. The downsides are too numerous to count. So the question I ask myself is which side effect would be most beneficial to me. Would the halting of crying outweigh any of downsides?

For the moment, I am leaning towards not taking the pills. I had the first month of the prescription filled, but that was before I became aware of the necessary commitment. The bottle of bicolored pills sits among my many prescription bottles waiting for my decision. At the very least, I know the pills are available if I should change my mind.