The QVC MME

In 2003, scientists in Germany published a study that suggests women literally lose their minds when they do what?

Having a chronic illness (or three) has taught me a few things about being a good patient. It's not only about being compliant; it's about being empowered. I learned a long time ago that if you want to be given lots of leeway to manage your illness in your own way, you have to prove you're capable of understanding what does and doesn't warrant attention. You need to have proof of what's happening (or what isn't). Show that you're paying attention and you earn your independence.

Data. It's all about data. The psychiatrist wants to see that I am not only medication compliant, but that I also stay on the prescribed dosing schedule and that I keep a record of how the medications are affecting me. Are my symptoms improving? How do I know? Side effects? When? How? Sleep? How much? When? Quality? Bedtime? I keep charts of this stuff.

The therapist wanted me to keep mood charts, along with a journal so I could look back and see if my thinking had gone off on some irrational emotions safari. It was also to determine if I had any emotions at all. The absence of emotions would be referred back to the prescribing M.D. for further medication adjustment.

The allergist wants daily lung function metering and logging. This is a particular pain in the ass that I prefer to measure by "breathing," "not breathing much," or "turning blue."

The urologist wants to know about frequency, quantity, pain quality and intensity, and the effects of activity. Documented and annotated, please.

The physical therapist wants to know which exercises I did, how often, how many, etc. How are my nerves responding to TENS and pressure-point therapy? Are the buzzing and tingling sensations getting better? Worse? Changing? Moving? Rate your pain on a scale of one to ten... She also wants to know how many attempts I made at deep breathing and meditation. Ha!

May Voirrey has her own well being litmus test and its name is shopping. Having never been flat-out manic, I don't know what it means to blow the family fortune on a herd of alpacas or a grand piano. Instead, hypomania means stocking up on lots of shit I just don't need, or really wonderful indulgences that I can't afford. I have a particular affinity for sterling silver jewelry. Clothes used to wow me, but now that clothes shopping just depresses me, that's not a big problem.

Shopping--no, buying--is what I have always done to not cope with life. Sad? Shop. Frustrated? Shop. Avoiding something? Shop. Hypomanic? Shop a lot and then some more. I know my medications are working their pharmaceutical magic when I lose the desire to shop. Actually, that's not true. I lose the desire to buy. I've been known to shop for hours, try on clothes, carry things around the store with me, but walk out without spending a cent. Buying things doesn't make me feel happy or excited. I am indifferent, and that means I've had the shopping version of a lobotomy.

It's nearly 2:00 in the morning. I fell asleep on the couch earlier tonight, so now I'm wide awake. There's nothing on TV except for that place where there's always something on TV: QVC and HSN. Lovely people talk and talk and show me pretty things. I go to the Website, fill my cart, and then empty it, buying nothing. This is a big change. At the height of my Bipolar misery and erratic behavior, I went on the QVC Website and ordered six or seven Diamonique rings, among other weird things. I don't even like Diamonique.

Still, here it is late at night and QVC is on. I can watch TV on home shopping like other people watch CNN. I have to mute the TV when people call in, though. I have my lonely moments, but if I get to the point of calling a QVC host, I'll know that I have truly lost my mind and my dignity along with it.

Which makes me realize that QVC is selling jewelry right now--silver, my flat-out favorite--and they did a bunch of Suspicion Marcasite without the usual pitch person, Margot Potter. The QVC host who is on right now is perky and cute and I think she's been on with Margot before. When you're deep in the throes of insomnia, there's nothing like a fun QVC host who may not be taking herself seriously to make wide-eyed late nights a bit more interesting. And tolerable.

Oh, dear god, what does it mean that I am starting to have favorites among the QVC and HSN hosts?

If ever I were to call in, I'd do it when Margot is on just to see if she could not act surprised on air--or if she'd even recognize who the hell I am. I know her (but long distance and via email), and I think she's one of the funniest, smartest, most opinionated people I know. How I know her is a long story, but she has helped me with something big and important that I don't write about here. As far as I know, she doesn't think I'm a dork, but she hasn't met me in person. Maybe she does think I'm a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but so far she's been polite enough not to let on. You can watch Margot online. She's the redhead in the video. When you open the link, click on the video tab just above that massive ring picture. Lalala...wait a few seconds, and just below the picture of the ring, click "on air presentation." Here's the link.

The drugs are kicking in. For a brief moment there, I was lucid and thinking fully formed thoughts. Alas, the sedation has once again begun in earnest, so I will go to sleep in my brand-new bed and dream about my new credit-card-free life that doesn't distress me since I don't want to buy anything anyway.

Zzzzzzzz.

In 2003, scientists in Germany published a study that suggests women literally lose their minds when they do what?
Go shopping. The scientists claim that activity in the areas of the brain that govern common sense and rational thought is almost nil during shopping trips, while electrical activity in the emotional and pleasure centers go into overdrive. Study leader Michael Deppe warns, "The more expensive the product, the crazier the shoppers get." --Heard on Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me on NPR