If I ever become a comedian I have my opening liner.

How do you know if you’re clinically depressed? You cry through your ketamine treatment. (Cue drums and laugh soundtrack)

Yes. I cried through the whole thing. How is that even possible?!

I mean dude, that is depressing.  Even a pain reliever pumping through your veins can’t make you less sad. 

But wait: I am not calling it yet. It is not harmful. By means no means is it making me sadder. So not ready to call this treatment. There is about a 70% chance considering my profile (age, etc) and symptoms that this will work for me. Those are the best odds I’ve ever been given. Jacob nor Steve had those odds. I’ll take it. 

I just assumed, which I don’t think is a crazy assumption, that for at least the 90 min infusion I would not feel the pain. But nope. I sit there looking at the peach walls. Thinking sad thoughts and crying. 

And for the record!!! I am trying so hard. I really want to feel better AND I’m a damn good student. I like to learn. I will do exactly as you say nurses. I will be your best patient, which I’ve been informed I am. 

The nurses are quite amazed by my willingness to not only give my arm and not move an inch while they put needles into it, but also let them prick me 4x to find a vein, each time really having to dig in there. If anything I apologize. I warn them in advance. This is not a nurse thing this is a me thing. I have the smallest veins in human history. Any time I’ve tried to give blood, or had to give blood, its been an issue.

The up side? Junkie does not seem to ever be in my future. 

The nurses told me to listen to happy music. I listened to happy music, but it made me sad. 

And then I looked at myself in the clinic and said, “what the fuck has happened to me? Look at me? How can I allow this to happen? This is not okay. This is not cool. This is where someone draws the line. I’m literally in a clinic getting drugs pumped into my body. Where did life turn south for me? How can I make sure I’m never here again?”

That made me really sad.

So I pressed the button. Yes, you get a button. 

It was the first time I’ve used it. 

And I know when I’m low because you know exactly what I did next? 

I apologized to those nurses.

I apologized that I’m not doing it right. 

That ketamine doesn’t work for me or that they should know it will take a fucking horse tranquilizer clearly to help me and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I am fucking this up too.

I make it clear to them that I will do whatever it is to feel better.

And I am really trying. I told them that I took off this week. I mean not really, but lots of meetings were canceled and it was light week for me. I rambled all of this to the nurse who was so kind.

She told me there is no way to do it wrong and that I am doing everything right. That you can’t fail at this. I listened as the tears ran down my face as there are no words that can make me feel not like a failure. I failed Callie. I failed my children. Look at me…badges laying in a hospital bed. I’ve failed myself. If this isn’t failure, what is?


  1. Yes you can cry during ketamine treatment, which would logically seem impossible, but depression is depression
  2. Inflammation is terrible, sinuses are affected this round
  3. Four infusions and not feeling better
  4. Binge eating (thats new)

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