I am in my 10th hour of being in pain. I didn’t do much. I wanted to have something to eat so heated up a burger. When I was close to being finished with it, while I was sitting, my ankle went berserk. It felt like someone was trying to scoop my ankle bone out of my leg. It was so bad that walking was difficult. I cleaned up after myself and then went up to my room where the pain got worse. I took a breakthrough med and I felt some relief but as CRPS pain goes, one pain goes away and another starts. The pain moved from my ankle down my foot and was excruciating.

I emailed my psychiatrist about my upcoming appointment with a new therapist on Tues. I gave her the name of the therapist I was seeing and told her I had hoped for the best but was thinking the worst. I then watch an episode of Good Omens. I really like this series. The good angel is pretty funny and timid. The demon angel is sort of cocky and sarcastic. They make a good pair. My pain subsided while I watched but soon as the episode was over, the pain continued. I started having anxiety. Took my BP and pulse and it was on the low end of normal but my pulse was really low at 53. I normally would have taken another Ativan but decided not to as I didn’t want to lower my heart rate further. As much as I wanted to die, I didn’t want to do that at home.

I barely left my room since coming back from dinner. Kind of makes me nervous as I haven’t really peed in eight hours. Maybe by “talking” about it, I will get the urge. I am still kind of nervous as my heart rate as of a few moments ago was 51. I emailed my psych about having these anxiety attacks while having high pain and a low pulse. I never got a response but might tomorrow. Or maybe I will email my PCP and see what he says. I like to go through her first as she is my go to doctor. I wouldn’t see her if I had the flu or something but I would at least tell her I had the flu. And she will direct me to my pcp if she feels like I need to be seen by him. She did make me see him when I was losing weight and had no appetite.

I have been thinking about all the stuff that went on while I was in the hospital, mainly about what I was writing in my blog that was getting back the attending psychiatrist. I don’t know why I can’t let it go. I read my last few blogs before being discharge and yes I might have been harsh, but I am always like that when I am venting my frustrations about someone. I don’t hold back my swears or how stupid I think someone is (even though they really aren’t stupid, it is most likely the computer system preventing the nurse for giving me the med I need). The only times I really had problems was when I wanted my breakthrough med and they confused it with the extended release med, even though it is different doses. A few of the nurses thought I couldn’t take it together or couldn’t give me it because of the computer system telling them it wasn’t time yet. But either case, it had no bearing on my care. I was writing because that is what I do when I am upset or frustrated or angry or whatever. It is my release. I can’t really go off at a nurse for doing his/her job. That would be frown upon and I would be spoken to because it would seem inappropriate but me writing about it in the language that I use helps me to release it better than calling someone a fucking moron. I have never given a description of the person, the location where I was, the type of unit I was in, nothing to indicate even the hosp. There are more than one psych units at hospitals in Boston as well as surrounding areas. All these hospitals have nurses. All these hospitals have social workers and contact people, etc. Why would the unit I was on be any different? How was anyone to know I was talking about Jane Doe instead of Jane Smith? This doctor was so out of line and made me feel so censored in what I was writing that I couldn’t write. My one fucking outlet that I use to ease my pain was suddenly being monitored by people I didn’t know reporting me because I was frustrated or was attracted to one of the nurses. Then had the fucking nerve to call me Trumpian. What the actual fuck?!?! I am sure if I brought it up to him, he would deny ever saying that he did and I am sure the social worker would deny it to, even though she was right there when he said it. I have no idea what this doc wrote to my psych. I see her Monday and will find out, I guess or maybe I won’t. I had already told her that there was an implication I wouldn’t be welcomed at the unit again. Frankly, I hope I am not because I hate it there. I wasn’t pleased to be placed there every time and especially in the care of this doctor my last three stays there. I think the only thing that helped me was the increase in Lamictal to better stabilize my mood. The staff, which were excellent, really helped because they took the time to listen to me through my darkness and saw the pain I was in with my ankle. The doc and social worker didn’t. It probably went in report but didn’t go more than that. I never heard the doc say anything when I had a night of pain and was in agony and highly suicidal. I felt bad that the nurse had to come to my room to give me meds because I couldn’t walk to the nurse’s station. If I felt up to it, I did. Unfortunately, I had to sometimes walk to the bathroom and then got stuck. I wish I had brought my cane as that would have helped me more than trying to walk unassisted. Sure there were staff but I feared falling with them than anything. If I fell that would be one thing, but to have a staff member fall with me and the possibility of them getting hurt I wasn’t okay with.

I have been trying to let this stuff go but it really bothered me. Like someone said to me earlier today, it was almost like they were infringing my right to free speech. People right vile things attacking others all the time on social media. I don’t think I am one of those people. I don’t think I verbally attacked any of the staff on the unit. I was just venting my frustrations because I was feeling trapped and needed an outlet. I was also in a lot of pain and wanted to act on my suicidal urges, which frustrated me more than anything else.

Before I end here, I want to thank everyone who reads my blog daily, regularly, or even infrequently. I also want to thank the people that follow my blog as I have just reached 1,000! I never thought I could reach it as I have been close a few times but then lost some people. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

thoughts on my blog, input needed

Thoughts on my blog

I have been discharged from the hospital. I am paranoid that I am being monitored by someone at the hospital on what I write. I am not 100% positive of this because my stats views have gone back down to there regular numbers. Either way, it got me thinking about how to proceed.

For those that read my blog every day, I would like your input. You can give it to me via my contact page or if you want to leave a comment, that is fine too. If you are a close friend and follow me on other social media, feel free to contact me there as well. I am thinking of password protecting my blogs going forward but want my readers to read them. It would be the same password (unless I feel that it contains information that I only want some people to read. These posts would most likely be of suicidal nature that I don’t want to freak someone out and call the cops on me.)

Let me know how you feel about this. I know that my readership will most likely be down, but I need to do this because I still want this to be my outlet for my frustrated feelings, anger, and depressed thoughts as well as my suicidality, which is why I created this blog in the first place. I know I could just write some where else these “toxic” feelings but it is hard as this has been my source of support and some of it does help people in knowing they are not alone with chronic pain and depression and suicidal thoughts/feelings.

I have protected my posts on Twitter. I am not sure anyone can see them anymore. I know that people that follow me cannot retweet what I write. I really hated doing this but it will only be for a short while when I think I will be free from being monitored. I am really upset over this intrusion of my venting and it being used against me, like there are only nurses at this particular hospital and none of the other hospitals in and around Boston. This is how narrow minded this doctor was and he had the gall to call me a “Trumpian”. This angered me so damn much I had a breakdown after our meeting. I couldn’t stop crying because I was so angry and frustrated. One of the nice mental health workers came into my room to talk to me. She didn’t know exactly what was going on but tried to reassure me this didn’t affect future care at the hospital. I think it is so stupid. I emailed my psychiatrist, who probably just blew it off as me venting steam. I am not sure if the doctor emailed my psychiatrist and told her what I was writing. I would have filed a complaint but usually that doesn’t get anything changed. He was one of the higher ups so my complaint would most likely be thrown in the trash and my record possibly flagged as not to be admitted anymore at that hospital, which is fine with me.

The day before discharge, I had a meeting with my sister and social worker via the phone. OMG it was so fucking terrible. My sister basically verbally abused me. I won’t repeat what was said. I just felt like no matter how much I tried to tell her how much pain I was in and how I needed to recover afterwards, she didn’t hear me at all. She wanted me to go through my stuff while I was recovering from my appointments or anything else that caused my pain to keep me up all night and just stay in bed. I felt so horrible after the meeting which was the same day I was spoke to about my blog. I was just waiting for number three incident to complete the three’s. Thankfully it never happened. I was in so much pain though from being emotionally tapped out. Since I have been home, I have not seen my sister. She asked my mother if I was home but did not come to my room to even say hi to me and her voice toward my mother was kind of testy, like I didn’t belong here at all. I swear she is just like my bastard father. She called me selfish but that is just a projection. The social worker really understood what I go through at home. During the phone call, I wanted to hang up so fucking bad. I wanted to talk to my sister about her use of pronouns but I didn’t think it would be worthwhile. I had an agenda but it totally backfired as I just had to go through my stuff no matter what or how I feel. I really feel unwanted.

So for those reading along, please let me know if you would be willing to read my blogs that are password protected or if you just want me to write like I have been even though it might ruffle some feathers at the stupid hospital I was at.

2019May13 Misery and Insomnia Continues

2019May13 Misery and Insomnia Continues

I barely slept last night. I was up till around 0530 because my ankle decided to go up to a level 12 at midnight and stay that way most of the night. It went down to an 8 when I woke up around 10 but after I brushed my teeth, made lunch, washed my dishes, and folded my bedding, pain shot back up higher. It is now around a level 13. I am so disgusted.

I was so frustrated and had bad urges in the early morning hours. I was in such despair. I realized around 4 am that if I go in the hospital, I am not going to have my meds at my bedside. I would have to walk to the nurse’s station to get meds and then walk back to my room. Walking is not a good thing when you are in a fricken flare. So I emailed my psych this and haven’t had a response. I sent her another email asking her if she is going to force me in the hospital. I am done with messaging her today. Either she responds or she doesn’t. I told her I can talk to her tonight or tomorrow, or the rest of the week. I don’t care but I am not going in the hospital. It isn’t like being on a psych unit you have a call bell to have the nurse come to your room. And because the nurse needs to scan your wrist band to give out meds, it is just not a good situation for me.

I am fricken exhausted. Past two nights I barely slept more than 8 hours. I am running on fumes. I had coffee because I needed it. I hate this is another day of not being able to do anything in my room. I haven’t done my PT exercises and don’t care to. I have been doing the calf thing trying to get it loose. I have not used the new band for the foot exercises. I am just so frustrated I don’t want to do a damn thing. I have been doing the foot thing where I am trying to get my foot to be flat. Because my calf is tight, my foot is always bearing on my toes rather than be flat. I have been this way for years so I don’t think that is going to change. I tried it while I was on the bus and train Friday and it was killing my muscles. I am just not used to it. I try and hold it for a little longer.

My psych just responded and wants me to call her tonight or tomorrow morning. For some reason I am scared. Even though I have known her more than half my life, I always fear she will throw me in the hospital and throw the key away. I know this irrational. So I will call her later. Rather face the music today than tomorrow. I will be a nervous wreck if I wait till tomorrow morning.

To the person who commented on my blog yesterday, I hope you are feeling a little better today. I know you are probably hurting a lot. You will get through it even though it might seem impossible right now. Hope you are continuing to read my blog so you see this message.

I took some gaba to help with the pain. Not sure that was an good idea if I got to talk to my psych tonight. Last night I was a little dissociative before trying to sleep at 130am. I have been doing anything and everything I can to control the pain. It most likely is flaring due to the weather. Temp dropped about 14 degrees last night. I so cold. I had to put another blanket on my bed because I put my fleece one in my bag I was planning to take to the hosp. I still am hoping to be a free bird this week. Not sure yet. Will find out when I talk to my psych tonight. Hence why I am scared. She very insistent Friday when we met. I know she is right but I am getting upset on how it will be and it hasn’t even happened yet. A friend said to “let it work” but I am very sure she has never been in the hospital recently, or at least where I live. If I had a therapist, maybe things would be better. The social worker got back to me about the therapist situation. Unfortunately the director is in Africa for a few weeks so she doesn’t know what is going on until he is back. Wonderful. Just reinforces the notion I am a hopeless case no one wants to take on. Other might be helped but after 28 years of getting help, it hasn’t worked out yet for me.

2019May10 worries on my mind, pain in my heart

2019May10 worries on my mind, pain in my heart

I saw my psych today and the first thing she said to me was “have a mustache.” I laughed. I had taken a selfie while at the bus stop and when it popped up on my timeline on FB, I really noticed it being darker than it was even a week ago. Sometimes it is the small things you don’t notice right away. I sort of have been in a gender incongruent/dysphoric mood today as I feel like my breasts are a thousand pounds each. Also feeling bloated doesn’t help. I am not sure why I am bloated as I haven’t eaten gassy foods today, unless it is leftover gas from the burrito I had last night. I am just uncomfortable with my body right now and I don’t like it. I loathe myself so much right now.

My appointment kind of went as planned, with the exception of the hospital being my choice. She is insisting on me going in the hospital next week when my sisters come home. I told her to please find out of the psych unit prescribes pain medication because if they don’t, there will be problems. I most certainly won’t be going in if I can’t have pain meds. I am to call her Tuesday so she can find out about beds as we sort of agreed on a Wed admission. I honestly don’t know if things will be better by then. I doubt it as I am getting closer and closer to an attempt. We didn’t discuss the means, thank god. But she is not letting this get worse as it already has been.

I have already packed a bag. I just need to see if I packed shorts because I don’t want to be hot as the temps have been climbing up. I also need to make sure I have extra underwear as I have been leaking a lot more than usual lately. The increase in the pain meds have caused more retention than I expected. I am still hoping it will level off but who knows when that will be. It has been a few weeks since I started the new dose so maybe a few weeks more as my body adjusts. Course this also goes with how many breakthrough meds I have been taking as that also causes retention. I honestly don’t get the signal to pee until I am practically ready to burst. This is due to the nerve damage caused by cauda equina syndrome. Even though it has been more than 10 years, I still have damage that is permanent.

After I left my psych’s office and was on the way to the train home, I got hit with the biggest heart ache. It hit me so hard, I could barely breathe. It has been bad like this the past three or four days now. I really don’t know what brings it on. But I guess that is the nature of psychache, just comes on when you least expect it. Then when I came home and got into my PJs, my damn ankle exploded in pain. Pain got worse as I have been typing this blog. I was getting hungry so just had a protein bar. I was going to have Nutella on a flour tortilla but doesn’t look like that will be happening. I hope I can sleep tonight. My psych was astounded when I told her I had 5 shots of espresso. I can handle it, though I probably should have had four. I don’t think it will keep me up as much as the pain will. I am already experiencing sensory overload as noises have been bothering me. My mother is playing her dice game in the kitchen. I swear I’d like to toss them in the trash one day. Fucking hate the noise!! Nothing worse than hard plastic hitting glass. And she seems to be playing it whenever she is in the kitchen now, with the blasted TV at full volume. I just want to die and I know the night is only going to get worse between my psychache and physical pain.