Tag: chronic pain

done nothing I wanted to do

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Done nothing I wanted to do

After I wrote my previous blog, I played with my bibliography program, entering the book that I was going to start reading as well as exporting the citation of the article that I want to get when I become a member of AAS again. I let my membership lapse because it was and is expensive. I mostly was a member so I could get the journal and still be somewhat connected with the field. After I entered all this information, it kind of made me tired. Data entry is not my strong point. I know people that love inputting stuff in worksheets but it has never been my thing. I should have taken a nap but I wasn’t really tired like I am now. Then I tried reading the chapter I wanted to read and I couldn’t even open the book. My mind kept on fixating on other things. I also could not get into a reading mood, which didn’t help.

Then I thought of typing up the stuff I wrote while in the hospital just to get it out of the way. I became paralyzed. I just couldn’t get off my bed to get to my backpack to retrieve the notepad. I didn’t want to read what I wrote. I didn’t want the “movie” to start over again. So I did nothing. I watched a couple of Friends episodes. They weren’t really funny but I laughed at some parts.

I have been fighting cramps in my side the past few hours. I took an Ativan and you would think that would cause me to nap and settle down, but nope. It took care of the cramps but nothing else. I did start to get tired around 1800 but that is my normal sleepy period. Every day I fight the tireds at that particular hour. I don’t know why. But I know that if I fall asleep, I am up all night. So I fight it at least until I take my night meds. Then I can go to bed. I think I am going to take my night meds early tonight because I feel like a piece of shit. I have done nothing, nothing at all, and it is bothering me. It is making me feel suicidal that is how bad I feel. I texted my therapist. I didn’t get a response back. I really wasn’t expecting one back. I wish she would acknowledge some of my texts so I know that she read them. But nope. I don’t have that kind of text relationship with her.

I also have been so lazy, I haven’t looked for the grief counselor’s card. I found my father’s GI doc’s card. I tossed that out. I won’t be needing her services again. I think I still have the note that the lab my father had his blood drawn in on my bureau. I have been meaning to toss it but I haven’t for whatever reason.

I bought a bunch of Ensure before I went into the hospital. Now that I have my appetite back, I am wondering if I should return them. I kind of don’t because they will be handy when I want to have something to “eat” but don’t feel like making myself something. Or on days when I don’t eat as much. Only time will tell if my appetite is here to stay or not. I could go on a liquid diet for a while to lose some more weight but that will be tricky. I would have to do math and I really am not up to it. I know if I drink at least 4 bottles, that is around 1400 calories, which is ideal for weight loss. I would just have to spread them out so I am not starving myself. I will run this idea by my psychiatrist and see what she thinks. She probably will not like it much but I really want to lose another fifteen pounds. I am so close to my target.

I am going to try the lidocaine cream on my Achilles lump just to see if it helps with the pain. It’s supposed to be odorless so I hope it doesn’t smell. My left ankle/foot is bothering me so I will be taking pain meds for it. I wish it helped with the lump pain but it doesn’t. I am guessing it’s because the pain is so acute and severe it just won’t touch it. Hopefully the lidocaine will.

Post 1755

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Post 1755

Before I left for the hospital, one of my lights blew out. I decided to change both bulbs at the same time so that I could gauge when they needed to be changed next. I didn’t realize how bright two 60 watt green lights would be. They are the ones that are energy efficient so not your typical 60 watt bulbs. I sometimes have to change to my single lamp as the brightness is overwhelming.

I had therapy today. We got caught up with the hospital and where I was. I talked about how triggering the essay I am writing is. I am not sure I will type it up today. I am kind of in a somewhat okay mood and don’t want to feel sad by reading or remembering what happened. I told her about the fall I took yesterday as I am sore today. My left thigh and right knee hurt. I think I might have sprained my right foot but it’s not bothering me like it did last night. I really took a dinger from that step. There should have been a warning there was a step. Usually they paint the step so you have some warning. Nope. Unreal. I am just glad I didn’t break anything or hurt myself. I would have been at the bottom of a stairwell where no one would have seen me.

We talked for a half hour into session and then I thought time was up. I didn’t realize we still had like twenty minutes left. We talked about the grief a little bit and about how I don’t have happy memories of my father. It wasn’t like he made an effort to be a part of my life and I didn’t make an effort to be a part of his. I don’t know who lost more. My therapist said that I will always grieve the loss of a dad that I never had. I think that is why I haven’t cried a good cry since he died. I kind of wish he wanted to buried in the ground just so there would be some closure and maybe some visitation. But all we have are ashes. It’s not the same thing.

I wrote to a friend that I think the increase in sertraline is helping with my depression as I am eating better and have interest in baseball again. Past few days, I have been watching or keeping tabs more with the Sox. I don’t think I told my therapist this. I still am in awe that I watched a complete game (entire 9 innings) this weekend. I also watched 11 innings the following day. Sox won both games. I missed Don and Jerry very much. Jerry was there but the new guy, Dave, doesn’t have the chemistry, yet. I am used to Dave being on the radio. I haven’t listened to the radio since the end of last season. They have a new guy announcing the play by play. I think his name is either Tim or Jim Neverett. I am just glad Joe Castig is still announcing on the radio. I like him.

I am glad I was able to take what I normally take in the morning rather than what the hospital was giving me. I was still sleepy because I woke up at 0500. I had to pee. It took a little while to get back to sleep and then I was done for. I tried taking a nap around 1130 and then panicked thinking I overslept for my appointment with my therapist. I didn’t. I am glad I am waking around 0500 rather than 0300. Those two hours of sleep mean so much. I also went to bed later than I did when I was in the hospital. While I was in, I went to bed before 2300 most nights. It was rare for me to be awake past that hour, even if I took an evening nap. Unlike when I take an evening nap at home, I am up till 0200.

Just came up the stairs from my sister’s apt and my thigh is thanking me severely. On my bad foot, I didn’t realize I stepped on some paint chips. They were stuck to my foot where I can’t feel. I am glad I checked my feet for debris before putting them in my bed. I am just going to rest for the evening as much as possible. Stair climbing and descending hurts too much. I must have really pulled a muscle when I tripped over that step. I don’t have anything to do tomorrow so I can lay low. I should have laid low today but I wanted a mocha so bad. I was feening for Starbucks after a week of not having their coffee or lattes.

Random 344

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

I took a tumble while leaving the hospital. I scraped my knee but I don’t think I did anything to it. I am sure I am going to be sore tomorrow. While I was in the hospital, my Achilles flared up on me. It seems to be getting worse and the lump isn’t going away. When I see the NP Friday I am going to tell her about it. The pain is so bad that my pain meds aren’t touching it.

I am glad to be home. My mother welcomed me home with “I’m glad I have my roommate back”. Nice, thanks Ma. She is making spareribs and I stole some BBQ sauce from my sister’s apartment. She was going to use ketchup and I wasn’t going to have it. I would have gone to the store and get the sauce if my sister didn’t have any.

I am having a better day today than I did yesterday, other than being in pain. I am really tired as I woke up at 0330 again with birds chirping. I also had to pee and get a pain med because my ankle was smarting. My right was hurting more than my left so I needed something. I am worried that something is wrong with my Achilles. It seems the lump is still the same, it hasn’t changed but now it’s really painful. Soon as I came home I took two pain pills. I might be knocked out but I don’t care. I am home and I have nothing else to do today except eat spareribs.

I am glad I am writing my blog on my laptop. I missed writing on it. When I feel up to it, I am going to type up what I wrote in the hospital about my father’s demise. I think once I have it in a word doc, things might be a little easier because it won’t be so black and white.

I have my appointment with my therapist tomorrow. I really wanted to talk to her at least once this week. I realized over the weekend, this was the first hospitalization that I didn’t write her any letters. I usually write her a couple while inpatient. I hope she won’t be disappointed.

Hosp vs no Hosp

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Hosp vs no Hosp

I have been thinking about this for the past hour, talking it over with the voices. They are loud tonight. I haven’t taken my night meds yet. But I am thinking this, what if I go in the hospital and they smack the “complicated grief” bullshit on me because my father died two weeks ago? I have been struggling with the hospital for more than a month now as the depression was and has been steadily getting worse. I only avoided getting in the hospital a week before my father died because I didn’t want him to die while I was inpatient.

My depression started the last week in January and then got complicated when my father had to go for radiation treatment, then two weeks later was in the hospital because of chest pain. That started his decline. We spent most of March in the hospital with him for pleural effusions, lung collapses, and ascites build up. In April, his ammonia levels were up, causing confusion and more lethargy. His appetite then became non existent and we were told he had a few weeks to a few months to live. Turned out he had just a few weeks. We put him in the nursing home on April 8th and he was gone by April 25th. Not even twenty days later.

In the middle of March, I got started on an antidepressant. Thoughts of wanting to kill myself were rampant. I should have been in the hospital but I became my father’s health care proxy during one of his admissions in March. I couldn’t go in because if they needed my signature while he was confused or needed treatment he couldn’t consent for, I had to be there. It was a delicate situation.

I think starting on antidepressant therapy helped me cope. I still wasn’t eating as I have lost a considerable amount of weight during this time. My last physical in August, I was 218. I am now 203/205. I am struggling to keep this weight because I don’t want to balloon up again. I still don’t have a full appetite like I used to have. Food doesn’t interest me much. I lost a lot of interest in things I used to enjoy. I should be watching the Sox game right now but I am blogging because I really don’t care about the game anymore. It’s lost its appeal with me, and that is not because of the team and all the drama it has this year. I have also lost interest in coffee. I don’t drink it every day like I used to. I can’t remember the last time I made it at home. I don’t go to Starbucks as often as I used to either. I just lost the taste for their coffee, which I used to love. I go there out of habit now but only if I have an appointment in Boston. Otherwise, I just stay at home.

I don’t know if I need to be in the hospital. Sure I am at risk of suicide, that is a given. But will I be helped while being in, is the question. I don’t know if it will annoy me or help me. I don’t know what hospital I will go to. If it isn’t the hospital I was in before, I will hate being somewhere else. The past three years I have been going to this unit when I need to be inpatient. It will be difficult being somewhere else that I haven’t been to before. And I don’t want to be in the ER all day and night waiting for a bed, though I will if that means going to the hospital of my choice. Last admission, I made it to the hospital and was admitted through their admission office rather than through the ER. I just cut the middle man out.

I just really don’t want to be admitted and then have the admission focused on my grief for a father I really didn’t care for or love whole heartedly. He wasn’t a dad by any means. He wasn’t loving towards us, though he probably would have said so. The only time I seen him show affection was when he won at the track and wanted to share his prize winnings. I could go on about the cruelty of the man but I won’t. That will be another blog. I will be damned if some social worker or attending psychiatrist pegs me as a complicated grief stage when it’s only been two weeks and I have been depressed since around the 19th of January. I only remember that date because I know that is when my feelings changed and my appetite became less. The physical symptoms of depression reared it’s ugly head and I was in pain. I was walking in mud. My thoughts were slow and painful. It took me hours to write a 300 word blog. All the while, I would have urges to take a bottle of pills. It didn’t matter which one I took. I just knew to not reach for my pain medication because I was not going to die of liver failure due to acetaminophen. That bottle was not to be touched. All the others were up for grabs. I had a choice or I could take all of them. Mix and match. I didn’t care as long as I didn’t see tomorrow. My hanging myself went out the window because I don’t have a beam. And partly because I don’t like things around my neck except for a tie.

My father died before I could have killed myself. I find this ironic. I know that between my therapist and my psychiatrist, both will make it so I get in the hospital. The only question is what kind of care I will have there. I know I will have a mountain of meds to sort through and I hope they don’t deny me my pain meds. I will not be happy about that one bit. I guess that it’s the care that keeps me from going in the hospital as well as the list of medication that I take. I take around 12 pills every night. I know if I go to the hospital of my choosing, it will be more like 20 pills because they will break up one of my medication. Instead of taking 1 pill, I will be taking 4. I go through this every admission. They don’t have the formulary in the hospital so they make do with another formulary, which means more pills. Guess I will find out tomorrow if I will go in or not. I am scared though. Giving up my rights and my cell phone is hard, even if it is for a little while.