Some of you regular readers may have caught on to it. Certainly my friends and family have. Something has been “not right” with me for a couple of months.

My depression was worse, which is no big deal. It does that some time. I have a strategy for that. (Thank you O wonderful Therapists in my life.). But I was also having a hard time thinking, which is a problem since so much of my work involves thinking. My short term memory was gone. Now

My short term memory was gone. (Fortunately, I have a habit of writing most things down, but still….) Now, I know I am not a young guy anymore, but the last I heard senility tends to creep in slowly, almost unnoticed. This was like someone hit a switch.

I got stuff done. I met my deadlines. My clients seemed happy with my work. I got sermons written and delivered. My kid and my cat got fed regularly. But it was such a slog.

I made some changes. I have permission from my doc to up my depression meds. I normally live on a low dose, but I am allowed to max it out if I think I need it. So I notched it up. Nothing.  I changed my diet a bit. I began to get out more and exercise more. Nada. Zip. I felt like I was living in a viscous fog.

A couple of days at Cape Cod helped my mood. Of course it did. Long empty beaches. Ocean and horizons. Fresh air. No deadlines. No responsibilities. Seafood. How could that not help a man’s mood?

But it didn’t really fix anything.

So I have ploughed through. It’s not been much fun, and mostly, for me, life is fun. Even work is mostly fun. But not the past few months.

I have become old enough that every time I meet with my doctor, he begins “In a man your age…..”  So I began to think, maybe this is what old age is like. I’m only sixty, but maybe this is just what happens. If it is, it sucks.

A few days ago, I was cruising through my facebook feed and one of my friends had posted something about statins and depression. Evidently, the article said, there is a strong link between the two. As I read the article it was like reading a list of my symptoms. So I dove into it more. Article after article. Study after study.  I killed off the afternoon reading.

Why so interested? Because it was just after the doc put me on Statins for some borderline high cholesterol that I went all fog brained. I didn’t make the connection then because… well… I was fog brained.

I know docs hate people that self diagnose. But I felt like it was worth a go. I was after all, just borderline. And it was a precaution because I am diabetic, not because he felt I had a real problem. Yeah, Yeah, we humans can justify anything can’t we?

I decided to stop the statins for a week. Just a week, to see. So that first night, I didn’t take one with my bedtime reading, and got up the next morning. Bada bing. Bada boom. I was my old self again. Alert. Ready to charge into my day. Singing to myself (OK, that might not be an improvement.)

A couple of days into it, it appears that was it. I called my doc this morning. He’s OK with it. And boy do I like being back.

What’s the lesson? (I always think things have a lesson. It’s a character flaw.)

One, if something changes quickly, there’s a reason. Normal aging is a slow thing. Sudden changes are something going whacko. Don’t write yourself off, keep probing and poking for an answer. This is true for physical things. Emotional things. And spiritual things.

Second. Keep probing. Keep trying. There are generally answers out there, but the body of knowledge is so huge that we can’t expect the doctors to know everything about everything. Think about it – a zillion ailments, each with a dozen possible causes, treated by a dozen different drugs, and 30 patients a day, all different. The matrix of possibilities are huge. They are great, most of them, but in the end, you know you, and we have to take some responsibility to push things forward, or we get lost.

A good life is worth the extra effort to help make it happen.

One good thing that comes out of something like this, and I have noticed it other times when I’ve been seriously ill or injured. When you do come back, you have a renewed sense of gratitude for the good things in life. Something as simple as thinking becomes something to cheer about. And gratitude is good for the soul. For my soul, at least.

That’s all. Off my soapbox.

Be well. Travel Wisely.

Tom