Hospital.

Well.  What a week from fucking hell.  Tuesday.  The day was planned that my friend would come over and help me with the vacuuming after I injured my neck over 2 weeks ago now.  She said when she got to my house that I didn't look well, and I said that's funny as I didn't feel well.  I felt strange, like the calm before the storm.

Sure enough it was.  By 11am I was crippled with pain in my left side.  Unable to breathe properly, sweating profusely, disorientated, rocking myself in some sort of way that I thought would help my 15/10 pain.  My friend rang the health line.  The nurse could hear me moaning in the background, she immediately said 'I'm calling an ambulance, stand by' - that's all I really heard after telling her in between trying to breathe what brought it on (no idea) what my pain levels were and how I ended up slumped over my chest of drawers in my room.

Around 11:30 a paramedic arrived.  He was the most arrogant prick you could have ever sent.  'Stand up' - ah, I can't dickhead.  'Why haven't you taken any pain relief?' - well, as you could probably tell (or not, depending on your brain capacity) I couldn't speak, nor move and was around 2 meters from my drawer with said pain killers in it.  Asshole.

He proceeded to say 'What you have is stronger than anything I have' - good for you! That's fucking amazing.  He made me take one of my pain killers then proceeded to give me this green whistle... Well let me tell you this.  I went from crying in agony to laughing my ass off, according to my friend I was telling the dude that my son was 6 (he's 2.5) and a whole heap of other irrelevant stuff.  Apparently I was hilarious with this little whistle that tasted like I was inhaling nail polish remover.

Hospital.  Well that's fun.  Sitting opposite the nurses station waiting for a bed.. It was peak hour.  6 ambo's came in after I was placed on a chair with a blanket.  What I saw wasn't pleasant and to this day I hope the young girl that had wrapped her car around a tree is still alive.. she looked peaceful though, almost like she'd passed on and they were doing everything to revive her.. From head to toe she was covered in blood.  I'd only ever seen something like this once and that freaked me out, this time she was literally 1 meter from me.  I had to bow my head & just rock.. 

A homeless man presented to emergency in a psychotic episode.  That was scary too.  I've never seen someone in such despair, the mental health team were doing all they can to get him fast tracked but it wasn't enough.. He needed sedation before he hurt a nurse or me (he was standing next to me for around 2 minutes..)  

I was taken to acute where I had this fabulous doctor tell me that it could be a couple of things causing my agony..  A perforated bowel.  Epiploic appendagitis. Or a fucking big kidney stone.  The epiploic appendagitis mimics an appendicitis.  That's EXACTLY what it felt like, when I had my appendicitis I felt like I was in labour... So, we were hoping the CT scan would show this, we'd fix it all good.  Not my lucky day.  A cyst was found on my left kidney, but this wouldn't cause the phenomenal pain I was in..  Back to square one.

I was pumped full of pain meds.  Endone. Fentanyl. Morphine. Repeat.

The only thing that took any edge off my pain was morphine. So my lovely doctor gave me another dose and my pain went down to a 7.

I was moved to short stay, and my lovely night nurse tried to make me as comfortable as possible to try and get some rest.. She gave me valium, buscopan, and this morphine type tablet that went under my tongue.. Can't think of it's name but it was effective.. 

I couldn't shut off.  I messaged my mum (who was staying at our place to look after my kids) for a couple of hours, she couldn't sleep and neither could I..  I was still upset that my husband didn't even bother to come in and see me.  When my doctor asked if I was supported at home with my fibromyalgia & mental health issues, I looked at her and said 'No.'  She was quite sad that I could only rely on my parents and 1 friend for help & support.  That's when the tears started.. I think I cried solidly for 2 hours.  I couldn't bring myself to call my husband because as far as I was concerned, he didn't give a flying fuck about me so why call?  It took me until 10pm to make the call.  I was cold toward him, he didn't pick up on it - he's male, they only care about themselves.  His best mate was more concerned about me than him - sad huh.

The lovely nurses let me rest until 0820 because they knew I'd had a bad night (not asleep until around 3) they came to do my obs, and said I'd be going for an ultrasound and that the surgeons would have a chat to me about the cyst.  I said thank you & grateful a plan was in place.

Cue asshat registrar.  

He told me as there were no significant findings on the CT & X-Ray other than the cyst.  He couldn't give me a reason for my excruciating pain.  He basically said in his own fucked up way that I was a junkie for being on opiates to manage my fibromyalgia.  I lost my shit a little.. I started getting hot from head to toe, burning enough to tell him to get fucked.  I said to him.. 'How dare you ask me to come off something that gives me the little quality of life I have left' - 'Why would you do that?' Because he didn't know shit, I cannot take NSAIDS because of my Xarelto medication for my fucked up lungs.  He said, 'Oh that's a shame' - no shit dickhead.  He said is there anything we can do for you? I said yes, discharge me so I can get away from you.  He looked shocked but not, I don't think I was the first and I won't be the last to tell him he's a dickhead.  He wrote my letter, told the other lady opposite me the exact same thing, she was a junkie too.

Apart from that one empathetic doctor, and her getting on top of my pain for at least an hour, one nice nurse who cannulated me (wow, blood.. holy shit, a tonne of blood - someone get me a plug?) bitchy nurse who wouldn't get written up pain meds and wanted me left in agony 'they'll get to you soon OK?' - woah bitch, hold onto your hair.  I had a nice go at her too.. 

What an experience.  Of course my parents have done more for me that my husband since I got home Wednesday arvo, he hasn't really given one shit - narcissists are not empathetic so I wasn't expecting much.. 

Until next time, be kind. x 

The pain of mental health

Today is the 6th January, 2016.  I have not kept to my resolutions, you know - lose weight, get healthy, beat depression/anxiety/BPD/OCD/PTSD and the rest?  I guess I'm over committing myself and should concentrate on one thing or the other.

Today I had my 2nd day off work since I started 4.5 months ago.  I felt bad for having another day off (I had yesterday off too) but my head would not let me focus on anything except on how I'm feeling, and let me tell you it's not pretty.

My head feels like it's going to explode.  Actually my body feels like it's going to explode.  I cried on the way home from the chemist at a song that made me think of my Nanna, I was listening to Sam Smith's 'Lay Me Down' and some of the words, well ok, most of them, are reminiscent of how I am feeling:

Can I lay by your side?

Next to you?

And make sure you're alright, I'll take care of you

I don't want to be here if I can't be with you tonight

See what I mean? Hits you right in the throat, creates the lump then the tears flow.  

Once when I was younger and my Nanna was staying with us, she used to sleep in my bed and I would sleep on a fold up bed beside her.  One morning my stereo came on, no I didn't press any buttons on the remote, and one song by Coolio - I'll see you when you get there, came on.  My Nanna always praised me for my taste in music, and said every song I ever played her was lovely.  This came on and she said 'What a lovely song darling' - ever since then I play it and it instantly reminds me of her.  You see, my whole life turned upside down nearly 9 months ago.  My darling Nanna was diagnosed with cancer.  I have felt numb until now, when my depression has taken over and I cannot function to the fact of making dinner, heck I can't even do a load of washing let alone take a shower.

The fact that my Nanna is 94, being as strong as an ox, living on morphine as she refused chemotherapy, what once started as thyroid cancer, is now cancer of the brain stem, liver and quite possibly her bones now, we find out next week.  

My Nanna also said almost 9 months ago that she didn't want any of us going down to Tasmania to see her, as it was her dying wish.  I may come across selfish but I am going down to see her next week, to help with my mental health state.  No body knows that I am going, and it's a very low key visit.  It's not to catch up with friends, it's to be with my Nanna, going to bingo - something we loved doing when I was younger, it was our thing and I loved it.  I will take her out for lunch, not that she likes food very much but it's the thought of just being with her for one or two precious days, I feel I will improve my mental health by seeing her but it will also shatter my heart as I know it will be the last ever time I see her.  It's a cruel catch 22.  

So through the tears today, I blog this.  My inner most thoughts & fears and what I am going to have to go through next week, I feel it's the right thing to do, for me, and I know my Nanna will (hopefully) see why I had to do it all, she means so much to me to not do anything, if that makes me selfish then so be it, I'm selfish.

2015 was a shit year, I fucked up, my marriage was on the rocks - hey my whole fucking life was on the rocks.  I wanted to disappear, that didn't happen - I'm still here, typing this to the world.

So as I battle my demons once again, for another day, it brings me closer to a nervous trip to Tassie. I just wish it was my Nanna and nobody else as I cannot stand them, they mean nothing to me.