Side Effects, Part Deux

The last time Tim and I put up a shelf together, he went to touch my shoulder and I noticed his hand was shaking...a lot.  I looked up and saw he was watching me notice his tremors.  Trying to keep things lighthearted, I quipped, "Dang, honey, am I that hot or is that your meds talking?"

He grinned, "Both."
No more was said that day.

But the next day, we went on a plannering coffee date... two broken hearted parents trying to keep their crap together with good quality fountain pens and lots of empty boxes on paper to fill.  As we sipped our coffee and traded stories of the week, he complained of how much he hates his handwriting now.  He pulled out his wallet and sifted through it.  He came up with a piece of paper and pushed it across the table.  "That's what my handwriting used to look like."  he said.

"Okay.  That looks like guys' handwriting."  I said.

He asked me for a post-it, which I peeled off the mountainous stack beside me (it was a plannering coffee date after all, a girl's gotta be prepared), and handed to him.

He scribbled for a minute or so and passed it back to me.  "That's since I've been taking the Lithium."

I studied them side by side.  Indeed, his handwriting had become an unsteady scrawl that was practically illegible.  It was much as Cory's had become.  I felt a pang in my heart for Tim, just as I had for my girl, and wondered how many people realized the price they paid to be well.  I looked up at his face, so like Jake's in that moment, waiting to be told it wasn't that bad.

"Well, you know, doctors are notorious for having messy handwriting..."

He stopped me.  "It's okay.  I'm getting used to it, but it kinda sucks.  It's like losing a part of yourself.  And if I get really busy at work, or stressed, my hands start shaking like crazy.  Sometimes I'm afraid people think I'm a junkie or something."

I remembered how self-conscious Cory had been when her hands shook, and posed a question to my husband.
"Is it worth it?  The meds, I mean?"

He raised an eyebrow.  "You mean all the side effects?"

I nodded.

"Umm...duh!"  he answered.  "If I wasn't on meds, I'd just be running around crazy."

The thought of Tim, who suffers from type II of Bipolar Disorder, running a muck about town gave me pause.  He suffers mostly from horrible bouts of depression, and can become hypo-manic, but full blown mania was something I'd never seen in him.
  He went on, "I know I wouldn't be working.  My temper would've gotten me fired a bunch by now.  I might be in trouble with the law for making stupid, impulse decisions.  And I wouldn't have a family, that's for sure.  Who'd wanna live with me not on meds?"

I giggled, knowing he was completely right.  Irritable is not the word for what he used to be, unmedicated.

"So overall, you think it's worth it?"  I asked.

"It's absolutely worth it.  Of course.  I have you guys.  And you're worth whatever it takes."

That's one man's take on it.  And for him, I am grateful.