The Rest of the Stay.

Not quite...

Not quite…

So, this is the follow up to “So, I Was at the Hospital”

I was quickly evaluated the second day. It was determined that I would be moved to the other side of the ward, meaning that I would be with the less serious patients, or the “safe ones.” This became quickly apparent that I could not stand several of them. These patients included a Native American who was totally whacked out of his gourd, a pain med addict who -just couldn’t stop-. The N.A. once pulled off an entire fingernail. The med addict sucked on a fentonyl patch, until she was caught, (oops, I tattled… gotta know the signs.)

I will rant about levels of separation in another post. But for now, suffice to say, I was seriously torn up about my treatment. I was put on several meds and I don’t remember what they are for. I’ve seen 2 doctors since, and I have still gotten no information. I only remember short pieces of the last two days.

I remember when the hallucinations stopped. I started dreaming again. And I’m not talking about the crazy-wake-up-screaming nightmares that I’ve had my entire life. I just…dreamed. It was bizarre. The dreams I have now, are so possible… And at least one of them has actually come to be truth.. It’s very strange.. I’m not sure if I am starting conversations because I dreamed about them, or if I dreamed about them, because I already needed to talk about them. It’s just funny that I KNEW how the conversations would go, before I even started.

I remember the Native being moved into my room after “Bob” (cool dude) was released. That was a ton of fun. NOT.

I remember breaking down sobbing, because I just couldn’t think. Even as I type this, I take a break and take a test to see what my words per minute typing is.. 25. That’s half of my last test.. on Jan 15th! My cognition is just lapsing. I can’t remember word. I can’t think out concepts fully. I have to type almost every 3rd word out, because I can’t spell, or type. Thank God for auto-correct!

I remember talking to nurses, doctors, and counselors who just couldn’t handle all the information at once. One nurse (my intake nurse, “George”) had to take a break because he just couldn’t handle listening to what I have been through. Soon I am going to lay it all out there for you guys. There are some things I have been through, but I can’t share them all in this post.. I will have to put them out clinically in a series of posts based on topic. The Doctor couldn’t read the whole list.. he already knew where it was going, and couldn’t keep reading. The counselor couldn’t read everything. She cried when we talked. The damned counselor! Don’t get my wrong… she was awesome.. but she had to skim because there was too much to put into a single report.

I remember when I finally turned the corner, and told them no more anxiety meds for sleeping. That’s when I was ready to go home. They tested me for TB and sent me home after 2 days… Nobody talked to Jenny. She is still catching up on everything!

I am glad to be home, but gosh darnit. I just want this trial to be over! I have to wait 7-14 days to find out whether my SMI determination goes through. I’m desperate to get the release I need so badly. I will share more soon. Thank you all for coming on this journey with me.

Now you know the rest of the stay… but not the rest of the story. Stay tuned.

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