Liver and Cherry
A new post?
About me and only about me? Surely not!
Well, yes, I have a history of this :)
Still, it will keep people updated if they want to be and confine it to one thread.
Got my transjugular biopsy appointment. No ideas what the multiple tests showed, but I'm booked in.
Addenbrookes, Cambridge again.
But fair enough (hairy muff) my appt is 15.30 on 21 May and my departure date is 23 May. So yes, I have the 5 hour journey to contend with, but on two separate days with one day in between.
I'll have to ask about my discharge time, but my guess is I'll be turfed out early on Thursday - in the nicest way.
Fulfills one of my childhood ambitions; to stay overnight in hospital.
It's two nights - woooo!
Am bound to hate it of course, I think I just wanted the attention when I was a girl.
No idea what to pack except earplugs and books.
Mum has offered to lend me a couple of nighties. I have protested thinking that leggings would be more suitable. I'm a restless sleeper. I'd rather wear t-shirt and leggings than a nightie and knickers; the latter allows the possibility of pant moustache after all.
Still, hey-ho here we go.
Even with your new personal thermostat I reckon you'll be too hot. Bear that in mind when planning your wardrobe.
Good luck, dearie! x
A suggestion - take a little bottle of your own mouthwash for rinsing/spitting if you're confined to bed for several hours post-procedure. Good luck, hon!
You need a nice pair of manjamas. I love men's style jammies, and they don't get all crooked and wrapped up if you toss and turn.
wishing you well!
An adventure then :) be well, honey.
Hospital sucks, as most of us know. I hope you can make an adventure out of this trip Sundae, and most of all, I hope it brings some good news!
I can make an adventure out of a trip to big Tesco.
Will try to do better on the photo front this time. Might even bring back a photo of Christs Pieces - a part of Cambridge that always make me snort slightly. Or at least it did until I saw it three times while hopelessly lost, looking for my bus-stop. Less funny then.
That's the trouble with old, picturesque cities; the situation of their signage leaves a lot to be desired. And I'd like to strangle the person who created the various maps I consulted. The You Are Here circles were pretty much as big as a building and gave no insight into which way you might be facing. Add no street signs to that and you go on a tour of Christs Pieces once again.
I'm not sure there is any really good news at this point. Just that some could be worse than others.
And in truth, the damage is done. I've never been one to avoid appointments or tests for fear of results. This has already happened and I'd rather have a grasp on it.
Mum is crazy-mad to organise my packing.
She doesn't want me to feel out of place on the ward.
When she went for her lumpectomy, all the other women had lovely bedclothes and dressing gowns and slippers. They had make-up kits and body wash and sprays.
I know I put my slap on, on the odd occasion I go out, but I don't really roll like that.
She has also advised me that I won't be able to walk barefoot on a ward.
Apparently I might catch AIDs that way (I think she means HIV) like a nun somewhere.
She was slightly mollified by the fact I do have slippers... somewhere.
I know she is doing this because she cares and I love her for it. But it is a tiny little bit wearing, knowing this might go on for the next 9 days :)
I'll be a cross between Doris Day and Grace Kelly by the time I get to that ward. And the rest of the inmates will be creatures out of Shameless, because I'm guessing it's a dipso ward (self deprecation, not real snobbery.)
I agree with you on the adventure part. I once had an occasion to have to go into the city for a medical test that would have had a big but non life threatening impact on my life. Knowing that nothing I could do would change the results, I mentally prepared for either result and resolved to do some touristy things in the city. People who knew about the situation thought I was crazy.
Mum has dug me out some shortie pyjamas!
So what with her dressing gown and my slippers, I have proper hospital chic now.
I do look like a hospital patient too - a mental hospital patient!
My hair is clean but won't lie flat today.
And Mum was horrified that I was prepared to be photographed with a dark bra on underneath, and the clothes unironed.
So I sincerely promise that when I get to hospital I will have tamed hair and ironed clothes. And properly untrammelled breasts.
The only downside is that these are so comfy and relaxing I want to stay in them from now until next Tuesday.
You look adorable. If Peter Pan were flying about, he'd drop Wendy like a hot rock and take you instead.
The only thing cuter than those slippers would be pajamas with feet.
Hospital fashionista! Hope it's as comfortable a stay and with as best results as one can hope for in an overnight stay.
My biggest comfort when I was recovering from having my daughter was having my own shampoo. It made me feel human, again.
You will be great and definitely stylin and profilin on the ward ... do they still do 4 and 8 bed wards in the uk? The us is all about private rooms these days. Havent seen a true ward since I was a child. Over here you dont bring your own nightie ... you get issued a gown that hangs open up the back and has all kinds of slits and openings for monitor packs and surgical drains. Slippers are a must, though. To guard against the Hep C. And flesh eating bacteria. And for the traction when you have to run from the fast zombies.
When she went for her lumpectomy, all the other women had lovely bedclothes and dressing gowns and slippers. They had make-up kits and body wash and sprays.
The us is all about private rooms these days.
Was just going to say this. Private rooms are all I've ever experienced. You practically never even see another patient.
And now this has caused me to think back and count the number of times I've been in a hospital in the last 7 years... it's 6 times in a proper hospital (3 for me, 3 for Minifob) and 5 times in a day surgery facility (3 for me, 2 for the kids,) plus add another trip to the day surgery this June when the kids get another pair of colonoscopies together. Holy crap, no wonder medicine in this country is so expensive.
It's all about group wards over here, unless you're a private patient, in which case you get your own room. Lots more people have private health insurance these days though, so there are a lot more private hospital wards around to meet those needs.
I would suggest that since people in the US in general only go to hospital if they have health insurance (unless there's no way out of it of course), that would be why you get your own room. People would expect it since insurance costs so much.
I don't think people over here in the public system have such high expectations, although I have to say, a private room is nice. I've had 4 babies. Twice I was in a ward, and twice I had my own room. All four times sucked, but the two where I had my own room didn't suck quite as hard.
I would suggest that since people in the US in general only go to hospital if they have health insurance (unless there's no way out of it of course), that would be why you get your own room. People would expect it since insurance costs so much.
Worse than that... it used to be that insurance companies had a policy that they wouldn't pay for a private room unless there were no shared rooms (2 people) available. So now all hospitals are built (or have been converted) to have only private rooms. Last time I saw a shared room in a hospital was in 1997.
Newly built hospitals in the US are all private rooms. It reduces the chances (supposedly) of nosocomial (hospital acquired) infections. It also vastly reduces patient complaints over having an awful roommate. Also, it's harder to take the wrong patient in room 244 for a colonoscopy when there's only one patient in there.
In hospitals with semi-private and private rooms, you don't get assigned to them based on insurance status ... it's based on infection control needs ... you need the bed you get the bed, regardless of whether you can pay for it. And that predates Obamacare.
Even for rehab ... I see a lot of uninsured clients who just show up because they know that if they need detox, we can't just kick them out. We don't have to hold them for rehab, but often do. They're supposed to go out, get funding, and get referred in. Detox is an emergency. Rehab is not.
So, Sundae, if you were over here, I could get you in.
According to Bri I'd get better meds too.
Oh the irony of social healthcare!
Just heard that my Mum and her friend will collect me from the hospital when I am discharged (Thursday 23) so I don't have to face the long trek home alone. Which is very kind. They'll come to Cambridge for the day and I'll keep Mum updated on possible discharge times. At worst I'll be kicked out soon after breakfast and just have to kill some time. Which is hardly a huge problem after all.
Also got my first monthly check-up scheduled in June. It's at 11.30, so I am checking the timetables to see if I can get there that early. I'll have to call tomorrow and reschedule if not.
Did you talk to the consultant about the lack of help you've been given for getting off alcohol?
Yes. He's going to see if he can contact someone more local to me, to get me onto Acamprosate. I take it I'd have to be monitored, and he acknowledged that it wasn't practical for me to attend a clinic more than once a month at Addenbrookes.
He's wary about prescription drugs because coming off them can leave the patient feeling like they are enabled to drink again. He explained that they are not a solve-all (willpower is still required.) I just asked if there was any help I could receive I would really appreiate it because I need all the help I can get.
Have you tried being a friend of Bill W yet? Yes, what they tell you to do is sometimes simplistic, but the idea of a support network is actually quite solid.
I strongly agree with wolf's statement. I have first hand experience in this area, and though it doesn't work for everyone, it has a lot going for it.
"Bill" doesn't work for everyone. My sister went faithfully until she began a binge. That being said, it does work for many people. Very good luck to you, Sundae.
My favorite thing to wear in the hospital is a pair of scrubs if you can get them. Makes them wonder if you're one of them.
OH, BTW...This is the "artist" formerly known as "Trilby's Sis". I changed my username to Gypsy. Did you ever hear the Stevie Nicks song? She used this song as a tribute to her friend who died. Claudette loved Stevie Nicks.
I vacationed once with Stevie Nicks. It was a cruise on the Regal Princess around the western Caribbean. I saw her a couple times on deck, swathed in skirts and giant sunglasses.
Oh... welcome Gypsy!
Gypsy makes me think of the robot on Mystery Science Theater 3000. (This is a good thing. :)) Congratulations on your new username, Gypsy. Glad to see you'll be sticking around.
So Gypsy, have you ever been to Tripp Lake in Maine? I grew up in Lewiston and always went swimming there as a kid. Great place. Bri/Trilby had mentioned it a few times too.
Absoultely I have been to Tripp Lake! Bri and I went there this past summer with my mom, dad and other sister. It was our last vacation together. My uncle and cousins have a cottage there.
Slowly sorting things out for Tuesday.
Woke this morning thinking it was Monday! Then again I was up at 05.00 because Diz was sick in my bed and only dozed off again at about 07.00 after changing all the bedding, cleaning his litter tray and all of the excitement. So befuddled is reasonable I guess.
Mum says I have to take my (toe)nail varnish off. Apparently you cannot wear it in hospital? Odd that they don't tell you that beforehand then :)
Flowers are acceptable on this ward, so I take it personal items are too. I intend to take Brianna's Edgar Allen Poe and the photo of my cats that Case painted her awesome picture from; part-funded by Bruce. So the Cellar will be with me.
The risks are very small, but I have included the hospital details in case something untoward happens. So you have a place of pilgrimage.
In badder news, Dads has had his dual diagnosis of dementia and epilepsy challenged. Like me, he may have auto-immune issues. While my consultant merely suggested it might be something that they need to deal with before any other treatment, his consultant's first suggested diagnosis was lung cancer.
Poor old Mum. Well, I say that, but her immediate reaction was to be really harsh to both of us because we are ruining her life. Her body has embarked on a tour of stress related bowel issues, and she has made it clear that she cannot go to the Doctor because she has no time for an appointment between running around after Dad and me.
I do honestly feel for her.
And I'm not actually ill, although I am obviously diseased, so have been baking (things she likes, like scones), cleaning and ironing. It makes for a tense atmosphere though.
I have come out in a horrible series of what we called "blind" spots; spots with no discernible head to them. They are big and red and sore, but can't be squeezed. I assume this is part of detox. I guess some things get worse before they get better.
I'll be thinking of you, Sundae. Best wishes.
Best wishes from Tajikistan! You'll be glad to know I caught a fine toilet for you today. Now I must find the toilet thread to put it in ...
Sent by thought transference
Gypsy makes me think of the robot on Mystery Science Theater 3000. (This is a good thing. :)) Congratulations on your new username, Gypsy. Glad to see you'll be sticking around.
My sister bought a gumball machine and made her own Tom Servo. I think she also began acquiring parts to make a Crow T. Robot, but never completed it. AFAIK she didn't attempt Gypsy.
Good luck and try to enjoy yourself Sundae.
I'll be thinking of you, Sundae. Best wishes.
Good luck and try to enjoy yourself Sundae.
Thanks for the wishes - and to those who have expressed it elsewhere.
You'll be glad to know I caught a fine toilet for you today.
Goodness, are they free-range over there?!
Anyway, still got three sleeps until I leave.
Less fun than counting down to go to Glasgow, but being 100% sober I do have less to worry about leaving behind. Everything is clean, sorted, as it should be.
Did the ironing tonight, so the white waffle dressing gown is ready to go. I doubt the cheese scones (also made while the 'rents were at Mass) will survive until I leave Tuesday morning, but I didn't make them for me after all. And it's flattering if all eaten!
I know, the future appointment is
nothing in terms of investigatory surgery. At least this time I get fed and have two nights (not) sleepover. Right?
May not be able to take a camera. But will certainly take a notebook.
I'll bet you make fabulous scones. Sorry about your Da. Hang in there.
You know what Gypsy, I do make fabulous scones.
And I make even better chocolate cakes.
I'm currently putting together a list of things I've done and/or am proud of.
Cheese scones go on it.
The Safeway supermarket near us has been putting chocolate-chocolate chip scones on sale. It's $5 for a dozen. I don't know if these are proper scones or not, but they are delicious, especially microwaved until the chocolate is molten. I bought the first dozen into the house, but the second dozen appeared as if by magic.;)
The cheese scones sound wonderful.
I was thinking about saying "I would love to taste your cheese scones.", but for some reason I think that would get me slapped.:p:
I'm sure cheese scones are the least significant item on your list. You have a lot to be proud of. Anyone who works with children does.
Making a list of the things I've accomplished/achieved/am proud of was one of the most important things I did prior to my divorce. Glad you put the cheese scones on your list. And of course your work with children.
All the best in the next few days, Sundae. I'll be thinking of you. Take the good things you can from the whole experience, keep in touch, and know that we're keeping you close in heart and mind.
One more sleep til hospital.
Packing Mum's little wheelie case tonight. Good wash and scrub and shave tomorrow morning, to be as fresh as poss. Haven't shaved my legs in so long. Retarded hairgrowth has some benefits.
Taking one spare top, two knickers, pyjamas, dressing gown, slippers.
Deodorant, toothbrush and miniature toothpaste, ditto shower gel, talc.
Two library books.
As stated before one Edgar Allen Poe with raven, one photo of Diz & Dylan.
Earplugs, eyemask, notebook and pen, camera.
And good wishes and love and care.
Still to decide what to wear there.
Pretty much everything I have is big on me now.
Except two things I bought as Incentive Clothing, which are still tight and anyway a little too swish for going into hospital in. I mean I don't look like I'm goig out to the opera; if they fit I'd probably wear them. But being tight they give an imression of "dressing up" rather than just getting dressed.
Jeans are hanging down my crotch now.
May just wear the grey trousers I wore to Arran. Or a long skirt.
Will let you know, I know you're excited.
Oh, won't know the results for at least three weeks. They suggest making an appointment after two weeks, but I already have one scheduled, and I'm damned if I make that trek two weeks in a row. I am hoping to have some news back from the last set of tests, but you just can't make those kind of assumption.
Cross your fingers and recite "I do believe in Cherry, I do believe in Cherry" at 15.30 GMT tomorrow and I'm sure it will make everything alright.
Oh, all the cheese scones have gone.
Good luck, Cherry! I'll be thinking of you tomorrow at 11:30 am our time.
keeping a good thought for you
Best of luck Cherry.
I'm sure the English have their 'stiff upper lip' and 'buck up' phrases. Here on the east coast of the US we don't have any cool phrases I can think of.
In Texas they would just slap you on the ass and say 'Git 'er done!'.;)
Take care of yourself. Take pictures and notes and when you get back to working with the kids again you can show them "Cherry's Big Adventure with the NHS".
You're one tough lady. You will get through this.
Nearing 6 AM your time -- hope you're snuggled in bed with Diz, and that he is showing his love for you by not being sick all over.
I carry you in my heart today, Sundae.
Well, all I have left to dp now is pack my toothbrush and make a packed lunch.
Oh and remember to take a pen; I may not be able to wrest the camera away from Mum.
And see if I can talk one of my parents into giving me a couple of pounds spending money for soft drink or crisps or whatnot, as I literally just have my fare.
Thanks for all the support.
I have confidence in you Sundae. You'll do great!
Ugh, I feel like a jerk for not reading the entire thread beforehand. It's not too late to chant, "I do believe in Cherry," right?
Never too late.
I hope it all went well, Cherry, and you're recovering comfortably.
Best wishes from here, hope all went well. I do believe in Cherry!
Been thinking of you, Sundae, on and off all day -- hope things are going well.
Also wondering how much more stylish than anyone else on the ward you are. :)
keeping a warm thought for you Sundae
Thinking about you this morning.
I believe in Cherry!
*waits for updates*
I believe in Cherry!
*waits for updates*
What every body else said.
Buses, buses...
Bus to Milton Keynes was packed. Market day in Leighton Buzzard (en route) and MK.
Had to sit in the whellchair/ pushchair folding seats when I got on, which I hate because you can't relax knowing you can be asked to move any time the bus stops.
Luckily I moved up the bus when lots of old giffers got off at Leighton Buzzard. Sat in front of a man with a really bronchial cough though. Thank FSM I now have short hair.
Mum saw me off which made me feel really loved.
Me at the bus stop - unaware of the phlemy future.
Journey to Cambridge delightfully uneventful, ditto Cambridge City Centre to Addenbrookes. Still didn't take any pics of Cambs. One day, one day.
Got to Addenbrookes super-early, of course. Travelling across country you just can't know there will be no breakdowns or diversions or accidents. And once I was in Cambs I might as well wait in the warm for free, right?
Checked in.
Sat for about 30 minutes and then, as last time, the nurses used the time to weigh me, check my height, take my blood pressue etc. They're good there. Although I wonder why my height has now been taken at three different hospitals? Do they not share records, or are they worried I am growing/ shrinking?
About 30 minutes before my official check-in time, I met one of the Ward Doctors.
She went through my records, my medical history, the procedure.
Warned me that my previous blood tests had shown my blood to be "thin" so I would require medication before the biopsy. Competant and personable. And pre-Raphaelite; pale skin, pale eyes, red hair.
Back to the waiting room, then off to another suite within the ward to have a canulla fitted, and more blood tests.
OWWWW!
OW!
Bloody hell. Lovely Eastern European chap. Very good English, jslight accent and unfamiliar name.
Tried to fit the canulla to my left hand. Oh, sorry. Vein was apparently too fragile and exploded. Retch, retch.
So right hand it was. And it bloody well hurt too. Poking around in there.
Can't fault him, they're my veins after all.
After a lot of poking and prodding he didn't manage to get enough from my hand, so had to get additional blood from my arm.
So I left there feeling drained, back to the waiting room.
BTW I'm going to moan about this canulla all the way through this thread. I'm sorry.
I'll say once that I know it's small beer. But it was the worst part of what ended up being a pretty decent experience. If I'm going to repeat the maons at least I'm not prefacing them all with a repeated apology.
While I was waiting I was kept updated on the status of my bed.
They where waiting for another patient to have an epidural, but it would be free soon.
In the mean time a lady came to take my order for dinner (see the Dinner thread.)
I was quite happy. It was gone 16.00 but I'd had the prelims and was in the right place and being looked after.
Got my bed at about 16.50.
As I say, not an issue. Wasn't sat in some anonymous place wondering if I'd been forgotten. And I'm glad I was relaxed about it because when it came it was a doozy. Single room, en-suite! Jackpot!!!
En-suite.
Lovely shower - properly powerful, even with the canulla it still ended up reasonably pleasant.
I know, Clod.
And because it was on my right hand... (TMI) [COLOR="White"]I wipe with my right hand. It was a tricky job not to catch it on the toilet seat.[/COLOR]
And it stung and itched like an insect bite for pretty much all the time I had it in.
Soon after I ensconced myself they came to take my temperature and swab me for MRSA.
Then came dinner.
All in all a little like being on holiday!
With the nasty bite and all.
AND THEN!
Came supper.
Cup of tea and a biscuit? A cake? A sandwich?
Oh, sandwich please. And a glass of apple juice.
Off to bed, and aside from some bizarre dreams - what's new? - I sleep very well with no Diz to jump on my head.
And Limey can confirm how well my earplugs cut out sound, having tried to speak to me one evening when I was still awake and reading but "plugged-up".
Next morning the nurse made me jump by appearing at my bedside at 06.30! Took the earplugs out and assured her I had only been dozing (true.)
She'd come to take blood pressure and temperature.
Another nurse was coming to administer drugs at 07.00.
When she arrived she had plasma bags with her.
WHA??!!!
We talked and she agreed it was best for me to shower and change into a gown before she hooked me up as I was to have two bags of "fresh Frozen Plasma" yumyum, and they could not be unhooked once they were started.
What I thought was my breakfast.
And my real breakfast (the toast was turned burnt side down, but I'm okay about burned toast.)
I have depleted leucocytes, which was what the plasma was about.
I just thought I was going to be given some pills.
I hated being hooked up.
Even cleaning the canulla with a squirt of something (saline?) was painful and unpleasant. Once the pump started, the first few minutes were horrible, and hurt. I got used to it, although I could not look at the pulsing in my hand.
I know I got used to it, because when they hooked the second bag up it was unpleasant all over again.
Now I was booked in for an 11.00 procedure, but there was a delay with the patient who was supposed to be before me, so I was bumped up the schedule. 09.30 saw me on my bed, being wheeled through the corridors on my bed like an Egyptian Queen on her barge.
I had on my hospital robe, my mother's dressing gown, and knickers.
Now no-one told me I could travel with the back of the bed in the up position. And no-one advised me to get under the sheets. So I felt horribly exposed in my supine, stationery voyage. Nothing was actually exposed, but it's a weird feeling at any time, being amongst the general public (albeit hospital-public) in your nightwear. Last time I remember it was when my brother was being born and we had to go into the next door neighbours.
The porters took me to the wrong X-Ray department, so essentially I had a tour of the hospital's ceiling tiles and lift roofs. Not very edifying.
Got to the right department (through a door labelled Delivery Suite?!) and ended up waiting until 10.45 anyway. There were complications for the person being investigated ahead of me.
Still, got in before the rush, as it were. And I dozed...
Me prepped and ready.
Hospital gown detail.
Everything was clearly explained by the Sister. Then the expert, then his subordinate.
I was well-informed.
When I entered the room I was appalled to find it exceptionally chilly, especially as I had to remove my dressing gown. NB, I was never too warm in that hospital. And my room window could open. In hindsight I would have taken my cat-fur cardigan.
But then I was covered with something that looked like paper airtex - blue on the top and white next to my skin. They covered me head to toe, with a hole cut for me to peek out of, on the left side as they needed access to the right side of my neck. Also screened me from the screens (showing my internals), which may or have not been on purpose, as I was expected to lie as still, as carved, as death.
I didn't even have to think about my temperature.
Quick sonogram, quick X-Ray then ready to go. Regularly checked during procedure.
Wipe wipe on neck, blood pressure cuff on. Then I think he iced my neck? I could see the figures going down anyway, and it felt like ice.
"Sharp scratch" was the local anaesthetic then a "stinging and pushing sensation".
All fine.
All went to plan. In and out with 28 minutes, which I think helped them catch up on the delay. Whatever tricks my veins might try on a phlebotomist they behave for real surgeons.
Back on ward after an hours prone rest.
Then five hours bed rest but I didn't have to lie flat.
I missed lunch but the kind and efficient lady who served the meals popped her head in to check I'd eaten, then went to get me a sarnie and a creme caramel.
Sausage and red onion chutney. Didn't half give me the farts later.
Me on bed rest.
Once back in my room - which felt like home - I had blood pressure and temperature tests every 15 minutes to start, then every half an hour, then every hour as time went on.
These were to detect any possibility of internal bleeding.
Nope.
I was okay.
So another dinner (again, see Dinner thread.)
And another supper.
My word, I must already be putting on weight after my hospital eat-fest.
Side from the canulla it felt like I was on a cruise. Same view from window for days on end (okay, Addenbrookes, not an ocean) and mostly just looking forward to food.
But nights of peaceful sleep.
Blood pressure and temp taken at just gone 07.00.
Weighed and measured again.
Brekkers (this time with jam, I was getting greedier) and then shower and wash hair with the extreme body modification that was.... you guessed it. Canulla.
Gutted when the nurse who came in to advise me of my discharge time said, "Oh, I'm surprised they didn't take that out last night!" Grrrrr. Still, I was so glad to get rid of it. Although for about two hours afterwards I missed the jangle of the plastic tags when I turned the page.
Docs were happy.
And it turned out NO bruising from hated canulla, only on left hand from exploded vein. Go figure.
Mum & her friend came to pick me up.
Photo of the services available on the concourse.
This is part of the hospital.
They may have them in plenty in many places, but I have never seen a travel agent or a bank inside a hospital in this country before. Or a Burger King.
And finally, whilst I was waiting for my driver, they raised the Royal Standard for me.
Oh, actually it might have been because the Queen and Prince Philip were visiting later that day to open another wing. Still, it might have been for me.
So, may I make the Liver and Onions clone thread I have wanted to for a week now?
So, may I make the Liver and Onions clone thread I have wanted to for a week now?
I think it's dead sweet you held off til now :P
Glad you're through it, Sundae.
I'm less concerned about the Burger King in the hospital than I am about the solicitors.
Went to the Job Centre today.
Was told confidentially by the claims processor I saw to go for ESA instead (Employment & Support Allowance.) She was impressed by my bruises and the litany of tests I've been through, especially that I had to go all the way to Cambridge.
"Go home, call this number and please, look after yourself."
What a nice person.
So I did that, and all is good on that front.
Not so good on the quitting work and what day I resigned on front.
My letter was dated 3 May. It wasn't opened until nearly two weeks later, because it was addressed to the Chairman of the Board of Governors, who I had been dealing with. I had a letter accepting my resignation on 17 May, after I chased it.
They dated my resignation from 3 May.
Fair enough, you'd say. Except until I had formal acceptance of resignation I couldn't claim any benefits; they won't backdate. I'm trying to get them to, but I'm not an unstoppable force and they are an immovable object.
So I've been trying to work on the school too, explaning that due to what is effectively an administrative delay, I will have two weeks without any pay or benefits.
I know this will sound laughable to people in the US, but I am actually trying to follow the rules here, and I've been honest with the school and the Benefits Agencies all the way along the line. These trips to and from Luton and Cambridge need to be paid for, as do prescription medicines and any costs required in looking for work. I'm lucky in that the 'rents are supporting me at below market value. They let me pay a share of bills because their mortgage is paid off. Because of them I have an interview next week; without them I couldn't afford the internet required to search for work online, or even stamps and envelopes to send out CVs. And I have been trying.
Anyway, waiting for forms to come from the ESA people.
You bet I'll fill them in and return them the next day!
Below are flowers bought for me by Mum's friend (who picked me up)
She's not exactly my cup of tea, but she's been there for Mum and has honestly had her share of trouble. I mean, WAY more than Mum has had with me. So it was a gesture that brought tears to my eyes.
Although I did joke with Mum that I wish she'd bought me a fruit basket instead ;)
It was only said to make Mum laugh, I'm not that ungrateful!
Veggie chilli tonight, to get back to low calorie, high fibre meals.
What beautiful lillies! Good luck on the job search.
They are pretty much my favourite flowers. Dawn knew that because she asked Mum.
Excepting expensive tea roses (not the forced buds with no smell you get cheaply.)
I arrange Mum's flowers for her every week.
Even when it's just carnations, I still enjoy them. Any flowers in the house are special.
Of course arranged bouquets are doubly special, because all the work is done for you.
But I'll put that on my skills list too.
When getting lilies, you always want a lot that are still closed so they last a long time. The bouquets that are all open may look nicer as you are buying them, but they won't last more than 3 days when you get them home. I think your bouquet has the perfect ratio of open to closed.
Glad you're home and ok :) Awesome pics and blogging hon:)
One quick thought: whilst you're getting back to low fat high fibre, probably best to also avoid low / zero calorie soft drinks. The sweetners they use instead of ordinary sugar are apparently really harsh on the old liver.
Yeah, WSH. Juice is always good. Does any fruit grow around you? Springtime berries are just around the corner.
The canula I had when I had Eva hurt like buggery. I was so glad when they took it out finally. I'm sure you'll feel the same level of relief when yours is gone Sundae. Looks like they're taking good care of you anyway. I hope there's some good news soon. :)
Glad thats over & you're feeling better.
Had a call from SMART today, the agency that originally referred me to Oasis (where I was counselled by the lovely Seb.)
They are good at keeping records and following up; they called me the week before last and I explained that I was headed into hospital for my TJB (my own abbreviation, but I think it works) and they agreed to call me back this week.
I have an appointment booked for next week, and if I haven't heard back re results or acamprosate, the lady I spoke to - Jenny - will follow it up in my appointment, while I am there to give consent to her being my advocate.
Sad that these things have to reach crisis point before real help is offered.
I can't criticise anyone I've dealt with recently, just my GPs, who satisfied themselves with saying "You need to stop drinking, thanks, good-bye" back when I contacted them in October, extrememly worried.
Now it does seem I am getting real help for real problems.
I have it from a reliable source, the Royal Standard was for you. ;)
So. Update.
I went back to SMART, the referral centre which originally sent me to Oasis and the lovely Seb.
I couldn't go back to Oasis directly as too much time had lapsed since my previous appointment.
But Oasis is the only agency that can refer me to SCAS, who are the only people who can administer detox/ acamprosate.
Saw a wonderful lady at SMART called Jenny, and walked home euphoric.
I also envied her fuschia toenails so much I was moved to paint mine too. Except mine are too short and I only had burgundy (colour, not wine.)
She's booked me back in with Oasis, but she will come along as an advocate this time and help me press for medical help. Oasis can't provide me medical help, but they can refer me.
We take the long path round the country estate, but at least I appear to be inside the walls again.
It took ages to be assigned a key worker at Oasis last time, just because of their workload. A diagnosis of cirrhosis bumps you up the list.
Of course this is all a race against time because I have a potential job offer out there which potentially starts 22 July. I know my health is more important. Of course. Can't work if I've drunk myself to death. But emotional and mental issues are part of life, and Mum cannot cope with me out of work, or understand addiction issues. Not a criticism, just the way it is. If I can't keep the peace at home I'll end up dead one way or another anyway.
I have the appointment with Oasis next Tuesday.
Hepatology Clinic next Thursday.
Hope to get some answers there at least, regarding auto-immune issues, Hep C and severity of scarring.
My GPs are being rubbish as usual.
Got a letter requesting me to make a routine appointment.
No doubt it's about my only current healthcare concern.
But no appointment available until after I actually go to the hospital. Sod it, I'll get what I need there.
And the various alcohol support groups have now kicked in to help me source help elsewhere.
So tonight is pizza and beer night!
No, of course not.
Tonight is tinned mackerel, quinoa and fizzy water.
And you know what? I am actually looking forward to it. With some Tabasco.
SlimFast and goji berries today. Happy but no real appetite again.
I'm so glad you've got an advocate to support you. I hope you can keep her for a long time.
I like tinned mackerel, I eat it about once a week (the steamed stuff, usually). :yum:
I'm glad you have access to a place, and people, who will make referrals and advocate for you. And that Hepatology Clinic is following up. Please keep us posted!
note to self, that's hepatology, not herpetology.
CONGRATS to you Sundae, they keep settin' them up and you keep knockin' them down. good work!
sounds like you're headed down the right road, glad you're getting the support you need
Glad to hear things are moving along for you. Btw, gorgeous flowers! I like those lilies too. :)
I hesitated to post this here, but then I thought you should know it's not just you, Sundae ...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-22889149.
Get that advocate workin' for ya!
x
It's what I've said all along.
I have made my own problems, but getting help with them has been so tricky.
If you're a smoker trying to give up, you practically get a goody-bag of products, weekly support meetings, tests, advice, the lot. But since last September the main treatment I've received from my GPs was "Okay, stop drinking. Close the door on your way out please."
It was only when my health started deteriorating, and I had made multiple appointments (one for each new symptom) that I started getting referred.
Oh, both the meeting with my advocate at SMART and my hospital appointment at Addenbrooke's didn't happen last week. But I've had a letter from Luton hospital (only 1.5 hours away, woohoo!) and am actually waiting for Jenny to call me back re Oasis as I type.
There is a lickle bit of me that hopes the Addenbrooke's cancellation and the Luton appointment are linked. Maybe the cirrhosis isn't as bad as they thought, or the auto-immune issue isn't actually an issue, so I don't need the specialist help from Cambridge after all... See, hope still survives somewhere in this knackered body.
When I'm earning again (soon, please) I am going to get an anchor tattoo. Small, simple - a line drawing really - and hidden. Because hope is what anchors you to life. It will be for Brianna, for sobriety - which I am still chasing - and against despair and the temptation of suicide. And for my Christmateers and everyone here who helps anchor me, too.
I love the idea of the anchor tattoo. Beautiful and in a way practical.
I like the idea of the anchor tattoo. Actually, I don't like the idea so much as the fact that you like the idea. Anything that helps you keep it together and stay with us is worthwhile,
Take care of yourself.
I agree with rich - I'm happy that you're thinking of hope and the future. Whatever gives you strength, a feeling of connectedness, and a resolve to stay with us for the long haul is good. Stay strong and know that we are all here for you.
Horrible day yesterday.
Just waiting around all day. Then the results were those which have already been explained to me in a telephone conversation on Monday.
Came home exhausted and just feeling physically ill.
Have given myself the day off today and am pleased to report a little bit of fizzy water and some fruit has helped somewhat.
It wasn't bad news, medically.
In fact it was better than I had any right to expect.
I think the detox is sending me on a rollercoaster of emotions, though and I've been feeling helpless and hating myself. Finances don't help of course; I've had my benefits agreed and it's now just a waiting game. I forgot how fraught that can be, and of course the enormous guilt I feel as I segue into a more useful life and it throws how bloody awful a place I am moving away from.
So, anyway.
I do not have any auto imune issues. I do not have Hepatitis. I no longer have to travel to Addenbrooke's, which is a relief. But Luton and Dunstable hospital is older, grubbier, less organised and altogether far less pleasant. Shame.
I have incipient cirrhosis, which means there is damage but also some signs of regeneration. Off to SMART next week, for a meeting at Oasis and referral to SCAS. Fingers crossed the hospital get in touch with my GP, who gets in touch with me by the time I have that meeting, as I know the Consultant did not want be going onto Acamprosate, considering it to be too harsh for my liver.
Luton's been the best place for fast responses and accurate paperwork so far, so I'm not too concerned.
No autoimmune issues and no hepatitis is huge, so to speak. Very good news, even though I can understand you're not feeling great. But ... I'm glad neither of those things is at work. I hope your ongoing coordination of care goes smoothly.
and of course the enormous guilt I feel as I segue into a more useful life and it throws how bloody awful a place I am moving away from.
You're moving forward, that's all that matters. I'm glad the health problems are less dire than previously thought, regeneration is an excellent sign.
As Clod said, you're moving forwards. Don't look back. Focus on the immediate future, plans for appointments, one foot in front of the other. Regeneration, takes time, you know, and not just for your liver. X
Sent by thought transference
Starting a proper medical detox next Friday.
I have to do this before I can start any anti-craving medication.
Bloody hell, this has been a long time coming. This is what I was angling for THIS TIME LAST YEAR.
Still, it's happening so I can't knock it.
And I'm actually earning more money and performing better at work than I was. So it's progress.
I'll try to talk you through it as it happens. My very kind, but definitely no-nonsense SCAS (Specialist Community Addictions Service) key worker tells me things will get worse before they get better. He wanted me to assure him that someone would be around who knew what I was going through and that I wouldn't work for 4-5 days. Nix on both.
The 'rents go to Spain on Wednesday and although I'm not working Friday or Saturday it's far too late notice to take Sunday, Monday, Tuesday off. And I can't take sick leave without having a mandatory disciplinary as I'm still on probation.
Will just have to fight my way through.
He shrugged and said that it would be better for me to get started than put it off.
With my consent we will go ahead. I have to pass a blood and breathalyser test, so no last hurrah.
The good news is that things should even out within a few days physically.
The first four-five will hit me hardest. I can expect the symptoms of hangover without having had a drink, as well as the possibility of wooziness, slurring speech and lack of balance. Not everyone gets all the symptoms and it's possible I will have none.
In about two weeks I'll see real improvements.
And within three months I should be on a level playing field emotionally. If not, they can tinker with my anti-anxiety medication.
Everything from there is willpower and counselling.
Wish me luck.
You can do it, Sundae. Tell us all about it, we will be the ones here for you who know what you're going through.
Sundae! So glad you're starting this at last! We're behind you all the way! XXXXX
Sent by thought transference
Good luck, you can do this.
Good luck, Sundae! Will be thinking of you.
Good luck, Sundae. You can do it. Keep us posted.
Its all about you! I hope you feel our hands on your back! :)
Kick all varieties of arse.
I've said a prayer for you. Since I don't say that many prayers, this one should get noticed.
For anyone Jewish, this is the start of a New Year. It sounds likes it's the start of a new life for you.
How are you doing, Sundae?
Nearly finished my course of Chlordiaepoxide, should get anti-alcohol medication this afternoon (Baclofen). Also had two high vitamin injections into my butt, which hurt like butt-ery.
Feeling okay just sleepy and drowsy and a little unstable physically. Managed to work through it, but had my shifts been much longer I may have fallen asleep in the middle of serving a customer cheese.
No physical cravings, but such a sweet tooth. Will have to take a photo before I become the size of a house.
Trouble is I thought because they were hospital prescribed they would be free. Nope. The Chlordiaepoxide came in two different doses, so two different prescriptions, as did the injections, then today I have a horrible feeling they'll hit me with more for the Baclofen. I know you can't put a price on health but when it gets to the choice between health and catfood it's getting a bit much.
Is it me, or do all my drugs sound like Dr Who villians?
Oh I was right. Had my third vitamin shot this afternoon. OW!
And got Baclofen in wto different doses.
See them next week, but at least appointments are free.
Everyone else in their was drug adicted and in to collect their scripts. Fe't weird.
Doing bertime tonight so if you hear of a zombie invasion in W in Aylesbury it's me having takem my first Toclafane.
Still, got the wherewithal together to colour my hair, something I'd been intending to do for about three weeks - had the boxes and all. Can't take a pic as the 'rents seem oddly to have taken ALL the memory cards?! Bet they only come back with less than twenty between them...:rolleyes:
Thanks for all the support public & PM.
I admit I could go to sleep right not, but I gotta wake up and get moving.
First day of Toclafane.
Went down shop with an old lottery scratcard. Exactly £1 winning (same price as a can of tramp juice). It's too soon to be taking effect but I exchanced the money and walked out.
Wish I wasn't so tired though. And wish I could type stream of consciousness without going back and back and back and still seeing errors after. Closing up again tonight. Yucky. Last night wasn't so bad, because I felt chilled. Fingers crossed tonight, but Saturday is our busiest day and our most clueless staff; no doubt I will will come into the aftermath of a tropical storm. Oh, last night I squirted some D3 (effectively washing up liquid) into an empty olive conatiner to soak instead of D10 - a degreaser. Put it in the dishwasher, had my own little foam party. All I needed was a bikini and some glow sticks.
#1 thing to avoid tonight
Later start tomozz, then back in the evrning for a thank-you for our wprk since opening. On th premises so no alcofrolics, but food and sodr drinks provided.
Berrer than the bag of Jelly Babies I had for lunch today... I need sweets like zombies need brains right now.
Better go. Start at 16.30 and gotta change cats over, pretty myself up and walk into town.
Forgot to say I'm cold.
I'm always cold.
Been warm today.
But have been very active and not standing behind an open chiller (day off).
It's nice. Don't worry, I do actually own enough lovely and snuggly clothes to keep me warm during a cold-attack (appropriated some from what Dad was sending to the charity shop!) but I just hate the feeling of it.
Went to Luton on Tuesday. Kept dozing off on the bus.
Saw Dr K (although as she is a consultant shouldn't she be Ms/ Mrs/ Miss K)?
Wasn't all that impressed with my results, despite the fact that pretty much everything apart from my bilirubin has reduced or is actually with normal levels now. She's a hard nut to crack. Talking about liver transplant in two years when I want to hear about now.
Anyway. Went back to Dr R at Tindal today, supportive as usual, despite having the same results. He's just a Doctor, but after all he is an addiction specialist. He's put me on Disulfiram (antabuse) - yay! Can't pick up the prescription until Monday afternoon so all weekend I can treat myself to things like Baileys Cheesecake and Sherry Trifle, and mouthwash. No, of course not... payday's not until Friday ;)
It's a suck it and see as to how sensitive I am.
If I consume an alcoholic drink I IB be very very ill. And I hate to puke more than anything, as my Christmateers will attest. But if I am super-sensitive I might even have to watch skin products/ perfumes etc.
Got sober brown hair for the occasion.
Well I was kinda blonde by accident anyway, but it needs cutting and a cut always means a new colour.
A change for a change for a change this time.
I'm glad you're marching forward, Sundae.
It sounds like the sun is peeking out from behind the clouds. Proud for you, girl. I hope you are not going to be too sensitive
I hope you are not going to be too sensitive
OMG I read today about clitoral enlargement.
There is definitely a thing as being too sensitive.
Oh you mean the drugs.
Meh - no different than strict vegetarians or people following a diet for allergic or religious reasons.
I'll just have to be more careful.
Would be a bugger to get ready to go out (it happens about once a year), spray on some perfume and then have the symptoms of a banging hangover almost immediately though, and have to cancel.
Saw Dr K (although as she is a consultant shouldn't she be Ms/ Mrs/ Miss K)?
Not in the US, and I heard the UK was following suit.
If all the consultants accessed via the holding pen were Doctors I would have made that connection too.
Instead there was a mixture. Maybe it's filtering through. Maybe it's the old gender-bias. If she's Mrs/ Miss/ Ms K then she might be perceived as a filing clerk...? Not after a minute of conversation though.
Things are certainly less formal.
Back when I was still a troubled teen (hormone issues, not alcohol!) I had to be introduced to a Consultant by a Nurse. He - always he - would then not look at me for a while, shuffling my papework and telling it facts disguised as questions, "So I see you were referred by..." "You've already seen my colleague..."
"I'm not sure I understand why you are here." Oh that was addressed to me, eye contact and all. Funny that, Mr whatever your name is. I didn't ask to be taken out of school during my favourite afternoon of lessons of the whole week (why couldn't I miss Physics?!) to be treated like a malingerer when I was actually here as a result of blood tests and your learned colleagues.
Oops. Old hurts.
Gosh, hospitals/ referral units actually have improved in my lifetime, even if they don't clean them anymore. Now it's just a health gamble. Which it always has been, really. Back then belittlement was mandatory.
Back then belittlement was mandatory.
Heh. At my University's health clinic there were only three diagnoses: you were pregnant, you had an STD, or you had an eating disorder. It was a running joke among us to see if you could get them to suggest all three in turn before actually getting a legitimate evaluation of your symptoms.
Sundae...
Your travails with the medical profession jogged my memory.
The 'diagnosis' starts at the one minute mark. There's another clip from the same series that I'm looking for, but this one will do for the time being:
[YOUTUBE]jWRwNq2fDN0[/YOUTUBE]
Further to my last.
I can't find the video clip I was looking for, but I did stumble across this transcript. It's somewhat two dimensional so I'll have another look for the video.
DOC MORRISSEY:
Do you find you can't finish the crossword like you used to, nasty taste in the mouth in the mornings, can't stop thinking about sex, can't start doing anything about sex, wake up with a sweat in the mornings, keep falling asleep during '"Play For Today"?
REGINALD PERRIN:
That's extraordinary, Doc! That's exactly how I've been feeling.
DOC MORRISSEY:
So have I. I wonder what it is? Take two aspirins.
So I woke up in a bad way this morning. Shaking really badly (whole body shudders), freezing cold or boiling hot, breathless and a lovely golden colour.
Did the right thing, went to the Doctors.
He was very kind, although not impressed with me. Apart from anything else I had an emergency appointment without my full medical records being available and took up 40 minutes.
Anyway, I still won the lovely prize of an all-expenses paid trip to St James' Hospital in Leeds. A new one to add to my list. For tests only, although he sent me home to get some things together just in case they keep me in. Waiting for my car now. No, really, they are providing transport.
It's only a liver function test. He's worried this is a new development and wants to cover himself. Which is good of course, better than being fobbed off when there really is something serious.
Good for you for staying on top of things, Sundae. Hope the tests reveal something easily fixable.
Dagnabbit
I think it's great they provide transport.
Hopefully they provide it home as well...!
Oh Crikey! Good job you and the doc are on top of this. Fingers' crossed for you! X
Sent by thought transference
Oh No, Sundae plz get better soon.
Thinking of you, Sundae. xx
I hope it's nothing serious and you feel better soon.
Sorry to hear that you are poorly sick.
Hope you'll be back in rude health ASAP. If not sooner.
Get well soon. Keep us posted please.
Any news? Dana, limey, have you heard from her yet?
Yup. She's spending a second night in hospital, allowed home tomorrow to collect more pyjamas and toiletries and tend to the cat (we have back up plans for the cat). She's allowed herself to get dehydrated, so is on an overnight drip. Also he an ultrasound scan today (I think). She may be in for another day or two, as I understand it.
She sends her love and thanks for the good wishes.
Sent by thought transference
Thanks, limey. Please give her a hug (or a cyber-hug) from me.
Thanks for the update limey!
Hopefully it's just because the Docs want to check out her norks some more. :unsure:
Went to see Cherry yesterday evening. She's in pretty good spirits. Especially now the Dizcat is sorted out *smiles*
We had a good laugh. She's hoping to be home in a day or two.
She;s taken lots of photos of her room, hospital food, bruises from where the needles went in etc etc. Expect a full report when she returns!
Thanks for the update, Dani.
Good to hear that she's on the mend.
N
Yes, thanks Dana. Get better Cherry. You've had enough rest. Time to get back to work!
Oh yeah, she said to say hi to everyone as well!
And she has a spectacular bruise on her hand where they tried and failed to fit a canula. Truly magnificent :p
I think knowing Diz is sorted out with foster care whilst she's in has taken a load off her shoulders. She can just focus on getting well and getting home now.
Cherry get better, we Love You!!!
What they all said.
Get home.
Sundae, that whole "The liver is evil and must be punished" thing was not meant to be taken literally! Get better and remember:
Okay, so you know the beginning.
Except it turned out I wasn't picked up in a car but in an ambulance.
Which I though I had never ridden in before, but casting my mind back I did get a lift in one when I was knocked down on a zebra crossing.
This was a transport ambulance though - only pressed into emergency service in direst need, so I wasn't preventing some OAP the chance to be picked up in the midst of a heart attack.
When I arrived I was taken immediately to SAU, the Surgical Assessment Unit. It's a step up from A&E because you've already been assessed/ triaged by a medical professional.
The nurse tried to fit a canula into my left arm, but was unable after much poking about, so tried my hand. I did point out that the last time someone tried the veins blew, but hey what do I know? She got it in and got my bloods, but when she tried to clean it with saline my whole hand blew up. Oops. Canula came out and I was told they'd give me a rest and fit it later.
Five hours later I was called to see the doctor who stroked his chin at my supposed medical history and said (in a very Dr Carlton way) "There's no history of this in your notes..." to which I pointed out I had seen the GP for the first time that morning and he didn't have my notes either.
Palpated my chest cavity and abdomen. No pain. Low oxygen. Heart murmer. Ultra-sound scan recommended. By this time he admitted I was unlikely to get one today so would stay overnight.
So far, so reasonable.
Went back to the seating area and was soon moved to a different seating area, very similar but with no telly. Shame - I'd been enjoying getting the teatime quiz questions right.
Turns out I was considered an infection risk, having had diarrhea earlier that day. So they wheeled a trolley into a side room and suggested I'd be more comfortable there until a room could be found for me. Just as well, another few episodes later I appreciated the privacy.
I was no longer considered Nil By Mouth, huzzah!
Sandwiches only on this ward as they were tempoary stay only.
Egg mayo and the ubiquitous cup of tea.
Then a new nurse called me back to the office to fit my canula.
She tried the crook of my elbow, poke, poke, no good.
So next was my wrist. "This'll be a squirmy one" she said.
"Please don't tell me" I said.
Success anyway. I have new body-jewellery.
Note snazzy trousers.
They were my favourites.
Good job as I was in them from Monday to Friday.
After about an hour they created a room for me out of an assessment room and a trolley.
No pillows, no blankets and the understanding that this was for my own comfort; a real room would become available. Of course it didn't, until 20.00 THE NEXT NIGHT.
It was right in front of the Nurses's desk, and being an assessment unit this was busy all night, with the nurses acccepting admissions, trying their hardest to find beds and dealing with patient complaints, "It's disgusting! I've been here 2 hours now!" Try 22, mate.
There was one lady in particular who wanted morphine, but that could only be prescribed by a Doctor. She kept coming to the desk and wailing. If you ask me, she could walk and she could moan and threaten to go home, so she wasn't as bad as she was making out... a simple migraine floors me and I don't expect morphine for that. Probably being grossly unfair though - who was the one in through not looking after themself properly? Oh that would be me.
I'd spent the time allocated to getting together things for hospital in making sure Diz was okay, posting here, sending a message to my Mum and talking to Dana on the phone. In my defence I thought even if I stayed over it would be ONE NIGHT. So I had nothing with me.
They kindly provided a guest pack inc a sachet of shampoo, towels, a comb, a tiny cake of soap and toothbrush/ toothpaste. I guess they're used to emergency admissions. Or disorganised ones in my case.
As mentioned previously, this ward ran mostly on bread and tea.
Breakfast and lunch (tuna & mayo).
Despite my suppsed ifectious state I was allowed off the ward and went dowstairs ro buy an overpriced apple. It was lovely.
In between all of this I was wheeled down to have my ultra-scan by a man who had to don a plastic apron. And I was parked in an isolated area.
I think it meant I was seen more quickly as a sign advised that only one patient could be parked there at a time. so they didn't cross-infect and create a 28 Days Later situation I suppose.
Same old same old, I've had more than a few of these now. Breath in, hold, breathe normally, turn on your side, more smeary gel (on your only clothes) etc etc.
Back up to trolley to wait some more.
Then I got a room!
So eager were they to get their assessment room back that they sent me before the new room was ready and had to park me in a side room.
Yeah, don't worry, I'm used to that!
But at least when I got it, it was mine all mine.
Bathroom with super-powerful shower (although mine at home is pretty good).
And me modelling NHS nightware chic as only I can.
I trust that you've been discharged and not just sent home for the weekend?
welcome back Sundae!
Your room looks nice, I'm reminded of the room occupied by Mrs Fawlty when she was having her ingrown toenail out... anywhooo.
in the last pair of pictures, you look mahvelous, simply mahvelous dahlingk. But the toilet in the other picture of the same post has me flummoxed. it's not really mounted on the back of the bathroom door as you've pictured it, ... is it????!!
Are you home? If so how is Diz Kitty? Are you going to be OK?
Get Well Soon!!!
But the toilet in the other picture of the same post has me flummoxed. it's not really mounted on the back of the bathroom door as you've pictured it, ... is it????!!
That's not a door handle, it's the flush handle mounted on the wall.
Mystery solved!
Thank you, my small, smooth brain was beginning to cramp up trying to solve that one.
I trust that you've been discharged and not just sent home for the weekend?
No, I'm home for good (I hope) although I have to go back for an Outpatient stay which may involve an overnighter.
Are you home? If so how is Diz Kitty?
Haven't got Diz back yet. Am going to call them this morning. So weird not to have him about, I'm so used to being careful when and where I move/ put things down/ eat.
So, at some point between being in the assessment room and being on the ward I had a visit from the Doctor. Important Doctor if his age and girth were anything to go by. We talked through my medical history (again disputed) and my serious concerns about my abandoned cat at home. He pooh-poohed this and assured me they would arrange a taxi back for me the next day to sort out Diz and collect fresh clothes/ toiletries etc.
Next day, same Doctor who came in with Sister. I mentioned it again and things suddenly got both frosty and sheepish. Ahem, well. Seems like his cavalier reply was perhaps contradicted by hospital policy/ my bloods/ general good advice. Errrr, no. No visit home for me. They would send the hospital social worker round to see me and see what we could sort out.
Huh.
From then until he arrived I fretted every second.
It's the sort of thing that can easily fall between the information cracks, and my baby-boy would be abandoned for who knows how long. Insupportable, I would rather check myself out.
Luckily, a very nice chap came to talk to me. All very much no problem, no problem, I can sort this. And he did. And offered help coping with my circumstances after I was released, which I will accept.
So, back to food. Little else to take photos of at that point after all.
Triple breakfast.
Drip at 05.30.
Yummies at 07.30.
Tablets at 08.30.
I fell asleep between each one for which blame the Librium, and again after my shower, during Fake Britain (TV programme) but I understand this is a reasonable reaction.
Dozed on and off between bllod pressure, blood sugar tests, temperature checks and weigh-in.
Then my lunchtime starter.
Just finished my starter and a wheelchair arrived to take me for my ultra-sound.
Doh!
(note, I had things in the wrong order earlier - it took photos of food to remember exactly when the scan happened!)
Came back to no lunch :(
But the kindly trolley lady offered to make me a fresh tuna melt, which was what I had ordered originally.
Then I think I had another sleep.
I was woken up for dinner.
It appears I eschewed a starter, but the little pot of fruit is my dessert.
This is a vegetable pie. And peas of course.
I was trying to open my bowels at this point, in order to be able to leave my room.
Didn't work the whole time I was there, despite being given Lactulose and what I suspect was senna, recognised from my weight-abuse days (pre-Cellar by a long chalk).
Anyway, even though it didn't work in that way it was very tasty.
Breakfast is getting bigger.
If I'd stayed much longer I'd have been pushed to finish it before lunch.
Another lunch starter, another soup.
Tomato and red pepper as I remember.
Non-interruptous this time.
And I broke with tradition and didn't have a sandwich.
Another attempt to impart enough fibre into my system to get myself off of isolation.
And this is what I got to fill out every day, in case you think these just arrive by chance.
And I'm free!
They decided that anyone as incapable as I am at going to the toilet cannot possibly be a risk to anyone other than myself.
Light and airy corridor leading to my ward.
Private terrace for staff (there is another lower down doe patients and visitors - presumably intended to be lower risk).
The room with the little side window open is mine.
The lobby. There is a grand piano and the pianist takes requests.
Lonely cheese omlette because I didn't think it needed accompaniment.
Something with dates in it.
So I suppose it's time to tell you my results, which were tossed at me in a random way, as if they were a suggestion not to forget any of my personal goods before I left.
Enlarged spleen.
Gallstones (although not yet at the point I need to worry about them)
Heart murmer
Fatty liver
Dehydration - extreme which exacerbated everything else
Vitamin deficiency
Jaundice
Advice - be a good girl, eat and drink properly, look after yourself.
Ground-breaking stuff.
Anyway, last lunch. Poor choice.
Juice starter and cheese & pineapple "pizza".
Blackcurrant & apple crumble slice.
And then they abandoned me somewhere in Leeds, with only sketchy directions of how to get home.
I was counted well enough to be discharged, and ambulatory, so I did not warrant tranport home.
I followed the signs into the City Centre rather than pay for a bus, and came to Leeds Bus and Coach station. Which meant I could get the X84 express home for the first time ever. So now I know which streets it goes down and where to catch it (mostly).
Right, time to phone the animal place and see if they will release Diz...
No, I'm home for good (I hope) although I have to go back for an Outpatient stay which may involve an overnighter.
Hooray!
So weird not to have him about, I'm so used to being careful when and where I move/ put things down/ eat.
From waiting on paw and paw...
So, back to food. Little else to take photos of at that point after all.
Triple breakfast.
... to waited on hand and foot. :haha:
Now I'm hungry.
Please, more about your cat's status: ????
ps, glad you're well (enough). :)
Here.
Although Dani reassures me he can't just be taken away without warning.
Sundae, I'm glad you're out.
Be a good girl and eat a healthy diet and drink plenty of water.
Not specifically liver related. although let's say it's in the same family tree.
I didn't really say what my appointment was for. I still won't, specifically, but dental health might rhyme a little.
It looks like the NHS can save my life. Yay!
But I will definitely lose my flat, probably my job, possibly my cat and likely the love and respect of my parents.
The team I saw today want me to commit to a five day regimen of intensive care in a secure unit, then 14 weeks residential care. Help, for example housing association accommodation, benefits and social care will be available on my release.
I may be able to get some sort of unpaid sabbatical from work. But I'm guessing I'd have to be honest about my whole, I mean whole and total history. And if you know me you know what I mean.
I have at least this week to think things through. They have not imposed a deadline, but I meet with Social Care next Tuesday. If I decide to set things in motion at work I have no idea how long it would take for the people I saw today to find me a placement, let alone how long I'd have to pack things up here to put in storage.
I feel like I've let everyone down, from Limey, Dani, Carr and all the other who helped, wished me luck and sent me a moving-in present, to Mum & Dad who have helped already with the bills. I want to believe I can in fact recover in bite-sized chunks and continue in a job I do enjoy.
I'm not coping at the moment. Not at all.
But I'm not on the On Risk Register, so I can't be that bad. Maybe just a change of meds and rub some dirt on it?
Anyway. I am confused and conflicted. Am going to post some jolly photos of Leeds in the West Yorkshire thread. They are written by the same person, I just have the unfortunate habit of trying to lock things in boxes in my mind. Until they go rotten and start seeping out.
Ok first things first: this is not a matter of letting anybody down. Health problems, of that kind, are as valid as any other - and the not coping is a symptom of that. If you came down with shingles would you feel you were letting us down?
Secondly - you can give your workplace edited highlights - there is no need to give the whole kit and kaboodle. Being clinically depressed (for example) is a recognised illness and ongoing condition and as long as you gave plenty of notice and explained that this was necessary for your health I doubt they'd feel very comfortable firing you.
It's definitely worth considering. The big question is what about Diz? If your dental health (;p) is the issue then hopefully they understand the severely negative impact of losing him?
[eta]you will not and will never lose the love of your parents.
you will not and will never lose the love of your parents.
Wish I knew how
that felt...:(
Hell, Sundae, I still wish you luck. You're not letting me down. And I don't think you are letting anyone else down either.
I think you should do what's best for your well being, whatever that may be. And you and your doctors are the best judge of that.
Same here. You're not letting us down, you're doing everything right by being honest about how you're doing, and getting yourself help when and where you need it.
I have no idea what the laws are there, but here there are medical leave protections, and teeth fall into that category. They don't have to pay you while you're gone, of course, but they have to have a position for you whenever you're ready to come back, up to a full year.
I feel like I've let everyone down, from Limey, Dani, Carr and all the other who helped, wished me luck and sent me a moving-in present, to Mum & Dad who have helped already with the bills.
What the fuck is wrong with your head? How do you come up with these scenarios? How can you possibly, even for a minute, think your folks or any of us, would want you to put
anything before your health, ANYTHING?!
My god, if I was in country I'd come over and slap you. :mad:
Brianna, where ever you are, please haunt this bitch until she gets her head on straight.:rolleyes:
Oh Sundae, I'm so sorry. I wish that I could help. I will pray for you.
Hey Babe. I'm only now seeing the terrible stuff you have been through. I have been away for a couple of weeks dealing with issues. You haven't let anyone down. We all love you and are here for you. Check your email. I sent you a message about 2 weeks ago.
Thank you all for your support. It really means a lot to me.
Those of you who have my contact numbers probably won't be able to use tem to get hold of me short-term while I make decisions and try to come to terms with all this. Please don't picture me in any danger if my phone is off or unanswered, or worry unduly.
I'm once again trying to start from scratch by being honest and not papering over the cracks. Who knows, they might even be able to fix me this time ;)
So I'm reaching out to professionals, not making any desperate gestures. I promise if I feel in genuine danger of self harm I will go to A&E.
In the mean time I might or might not talk about everything here.
My mood swings from abject terror and horror at the effort of simply living, to feeling I can deal with things to wanting a little giggle. This is not simply a case of depression - of course not, you know I have to be special. It's at least a dual diagnosis, which is why the initial suggestion is to suggest I should be under supervision for such a long time.
I promise to make you aware if I am able to take this route and how and where my best point of contact is.
My dear Sundae, let me add my voice to those saying you are most definitely NOT letting me, or anyone down. I can only imagine how overwhelming this must seem to you, but please be assured you will always have my continued support and friendship. XXX
Sent by thought transference
Just take care of yourself. PLEASE!!! If all goes as planned, I will see you next year at the place I mentioned in the email. We both can get jobs there. It wouldn't be as nice as life on the bank of the old sewage lagoon, but we'd have fun.
Echoes to especially the
PLEASE!!!
Take care. You will have pride in it tomorrow.
Count me in to all of the above good wishes.
If you haven't already read your PMs, one awaits you.
BTW I posted the John Betjeman DVD this afternoon. With a bit of luck should be with you tomorrow.
Wish I knew how that felt...:(
Just saw this. *hugs* I don't know the tale, but it sounds a sad one.
Sundae, please do what's best and right for you. And be secure in the knowledge that everyone who loves you and cares about you is right with you, not let down or disappointed.
Your parents have always been right there with you, and that means they're on for the voyage. As are we here.
Sending you good wishes and strength. There are many tomorrows to enjoy. :hug:
I've been asked by Cherry to say " to say my laptop is down. 100% true." So please do not worry about her current silence.
At least that's better than "The cat ate my posts." :)
Cherry came to my place yesterday and spent a few hours with me and Carrot :) Went to the park with Ma and Nellie too. had a lovely time - and then went for lunch at a nearby inn.
She took loooooaaaads of photos but wasn't able to get her laptop working when she got back - she'll post them when she can.
Cherry came to my place yesterday and spent a few hours with me and Carrot :) Went to the park with Ma and Nellie too. had a lovely time - and then went for lunch at a nearby inn.
She took loooooaaaads of photos but wasn't able to get her laptop working when she got back - she'll post them when she can.
:thumb2:
AhHa, the dogs!:idea: Coming home with dogs smells on her, caused her evil roommate to retaliate against her laptop.
Just an update to let you know I am still alive and still waiting for admission.
It's two weeks tomorrow since the official paperwork went through and have heard nothing yet. I'm in a holding pattern and hating it.
I'm in touch with Limey and DanaC and I do drop by here to read.
Sorry to other people I am genuinely close to, I just can't face saying the same thing over and over, and I don't always have the opportunity to express here how I am feeling.
I can only do so when I'm out, which means it's a good day. Then I compose posts which are bright and breezy, but don't fully reflect my life.
Or I try to describe my life in its various aspects and that brings the clouds down on a day I'd felt capable of brushing my teeth.
So my attempts are usually deleted.
My jaundice is on and off, but there's no point in going back to hospital; I know why and once the hospital did they patched me up and released me into the wild last time.
So it's better to stay at home and watch the post and hope my admission date comes through.
And wait for various appointments with benefits agencies to come through for me to take buses I can't afford.
And listen to Diz's wheezy breathing and know he'd be better off with someone other than me, even though in a cat way he loves the very bones of me. And has done for eight years. We've been the only given in eachother's lives that long...
Raining here today. Well it is Otley. Wish I could share the photos I have with you.
Do whatever you deem likely to bring me luck, whatever that means, to get me into treatment soon. I'm at peace right now, but if you ask the girls on the quiet they know that The Horrors don't lie far under the surface. And a word about them. Two very different people, two very different approaches. Two very caring and beautiful people.
Better go now. Have pigeon poo on me, and a fat cat at home waiting for dinner.
Hmmmm, may stick it out another half hour before filling his catgut.
Thank you for posting Sundae. I was wondering how you were doing.
I hope things start happening for you soon.
Thanks for posting, Sundae.
Best wishes,
N.
Nice to hear from you, Sundae. I had noticed a certain lack in the Cellar lately.
:fingerx:
I'm so happy you chose/are choosing, to do the best thing for your health.
I can only do so when I'm out, which means it's a good day. Then I compose posts which are bright and breezy, but don't fully reflect my life.
Posts don't fully reflect my life... wow.
We banter back and forth with, not people, but constructs we've put together from clues in their posts. I think while we bitch about annoyances, when life gets really dark we tend to hold that close to the vest. Could be waiting for it to play out so the whole story is told. Could be not wanting to be a dark cloud, bumming people out. Maybe not wanting to appear a weakling, not able to handle adversity. I guess there's as many reasons as people, but I still believe it's common.
Have pigeon poo on me...
Good, serves you right for feeding the flying shit factories.
Oh yes and
Two very caring and beautiful people.
I believe it. I also believe they can care so much with ease, because you are worth it.
Posts don't fully reflect my life... wow. We banter back and forth with, not people, but constructs we've put together from clues in their posts. I think while we bitch about annoyances, when life gets really dark we tend to hold that close to the vest. Could be waiting for it to play out so the whole story is told. Could be not wanting to be a dark cloud, bumming people out. Maybe not wanting to appear a weakling, not able to handle adversity. I guess there's as many reasons as people, but I still believe it's common.
Very common for me at least, for any combination of these reasons and more.
I can only do so when I'm out, which means it's a good day. Then I compose posts which are bright and breezy, but don't fully reflect my life.
For what it's worth, I don't think there's anything wrong with posts that don't fully reflect your life, in and of themselves. I find that, for me at least, sometimes the bright and breezy posts can to a certain degree trick me into feeling that my life is indeed bright and breezy. Some people find putting up a facade to be even more guilt-inducing and distasteful than just feeling bad in the first place, so it's not for everyone. But for some, the facade can be meaningful and useful.
Hi Sundae,
Please take good care of yourself.
Thanks for the update, Sundae. I'm glad you're still working toward treatment, even if the process is slow. Take care of yourself; this world still needs you.
Okay. Off to Leeds tomorrow for the assessment.
Doubt I'll sleep tonight, which is a self-fulfilling prophecy of course.
As usual what I really fear is fear itself. I am so scared of bad news, delays, censure, rejection and the fall-out when I come "home". Which is really not home now, just a place I doss down in.
Reading Kenneth Williams' diaries, which probably doesn't help.
He was so unhappy so often, and could see no way out of his own situation, isolation, self-loathing. But so much of it chimes with my mood.
If I ever get accepted to the Unit I will keep a diary.
I even bought a lovely book to keep it in, but it's useless while I'm like this. Carruthers has so very kindly offered to try to help get the laptop back up and running at home, but in some ways I am emotionally reluctant to do so, because I'm so worried what I will publicly expose. And obv I don't mean body parts because I've done that sober with no regrets.
If I regret anything it's posting unfairly about Mum when I've been in a temper, or feeling hurt. Both bring out such vitriol and unpleasantness and it is still there years later. If I sound off on the phone to someone I can say afterwards, "Sorry, you didn't need to hear that, I don't feel the same today".
Sometimes when I'm looking for links I see my old posts and think, what a stupid, petty, ungrateful, over-sensitive bitch.
But then I guess on the flip side I also sometimes think, my gosh, how kind and insightful. Or how funny, or what a gorgeous turn of phrase.
So you can add conceited to the list of my failings above.
Right. Back to the flat. Diz has been fed, I'm just out to quietly kill time before the the long dark.
And Winter is coming, fools :cool:
If you get a place in the Unit, will you be without internet access?
It's on my list of questions.
Sometimes when I'm looking for links I see my old posts and think, what a stupid, petty, ungrateful, over-sensitive bitch.
But then I guess on the flip side I also sometimes think, my gosh, how kind and insightful. Or how funny, or what a gorgeous turn of phrase.
So you can add conceited to the list of my failings above.
One thing I've been trying to do more of lately is forgive myself. I'm my own harshest critic. I think we all are. You are a good egg, Sundae. Forgive yourself.
WSSHS ^
Keep hanging on, Sundae.
don't sweat the small stuff, baby. you know you will be accepted. one way i use to overcome fear, is to become angered. you know, you get that king kong mother-fucker attitude and can do anything.
stupid advice, but it works for me
In rehabilitation I think they often want you to not have much contact, or relationships which will cloud the whole process of getting better.
If that's what it is, and it's for the best, you and we will simply have to wait it out.
Or we will set up a system of codes, and Dana can sit outside your window and you can close and open the blinds according to what you want to say.
you know, you get that king kong mother-fucker attitude and can do anything.
[SIZE="1"]Whut?[/SIZE][ahemem]I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about, sir.
:unsure:
... If I ever get accepted to the Unit I will keep a diary. I even bought a lovely book to keep it in, but it's useless while I'm like this.
I take it then that it's not TARDIS blue.
No, I'm not River. Sadly.
So it went kind of okay today.
I felt listened to. Nice chap. Looked a bit like Daniel Craig. And that came out of my mouth [cringe]. I hope it doesn't count against me.
Have another appointment on Tuesday, and have to bring proof of my finances.
That sounds positive. And he didn't flick through a diary or appointment book to allocate it either, which makes me trust him.
Answer to some questions.
Yes to leaving the unit/ meeting people, although not recommended until later in the stay.
Four rules in the unit: NO drinking, NO drugs, follow your timetable and respect other people on the programme. It runs from 09.00-17.30 Monday to Friday, but weekends and evenings are yours.
You get an allowance of £23.40 per week. Any other benefits are paid to the centre after your (home) housing costs and standard bills are paid. Haha, good luck, I can live quite happily on a disposable income of £23.40, but the rest of my benefits won't cover the place I'm leaving behind...
Still, they'll work that out.
They help with debt management too.
Yes to Internet access. No wifi but a computer room.
Admission date? No idea. It's not first come first served, it's allocated by this mostly, but also partly by need. I have a bad feeling about this because I mentioned my endoscopy appointment and he said I should call the hospital to explain I could not go home after the procedure as there was no-one there to take care of me.
He said the hospital should be able to come to some sort of arrangement.
And that appointment is in September.
He didn't say, "Oh we can sort that out when you check in"
I didn't ask about Christmas.
It seemed too presumptuous to assume I'd even be in there by then.
I told him about my isolation, being scared all the time, not able to take care of myself, not eating etc etc.
Did the best I could.
Did the best I could.
:) Good.
I hope the next appointment goes well and that you get in quickly.
snip--
Did the best I could.
This is required, but it is all that is required. Brava!
Well done honey! One step then the next :)
Oh well done, Sundae! I'm so proud of you x! September is only next week. One step at a time, as Dani says, and we're with you all the way!
Sent by thought transference
Agree, Sundae ... September is on Monday; never mind about Christmas. Do your best at each step, it's all you can do.
Good luck on tuesday, sending hugs and support. xxoo
Met with three people today. Nurse A at the clinic, who told me she has been reassigned to take on the workload of a colleague who has just had to leave on long term sickness. So back to square one in establishing a new relationship. Although to be fair we've really just been treading water for the last few weeks anyway.
Then to St Anne's on the other side of the city to meet with the person who handles the finances, and the rehab manager.
Both seemed to go reasonably.
My question s at the beginning of all this went from
when, originally, naively,
to am I eligible
to am I suitable
to will I get funding.
Today tipped the scales back towards when.
There are still questions re funding, but they seem satisfied I am a suitable candidate for admission.
I did ask when, again, of course.
But it was explained me more thoroughly this time and I understand the reasons it is difficult to predict now.
One thing the manager said which I feel is reasonable to repeat here is that one day you can have a waiting list of ten people (for a thirteen week course) and yet by the end of the week it's only two people.
I'm still not officially on the list though, as far as I can tell. More things yet to fall into place.
So it could be over thirteen weeks yet.
But I am feeling braver having spoken to the finance lady, and have contacted a debt charity recommended by Nurse A regarding my current financial situation. Being a charity they are not pushing a product or taking fees, which is the most you can hope for.
This evening I am feeling reasonably brave because the finance person said, "It really isn't the end of the world. Whatever situation you are in when [when!] you are admitted, trust me we'll have seen worse."
And the manager did say that she felt my goals and expectations of what the service can offer match what they are able to offer. So it's back to the waiting game, but in a more informed position than I was. I'm not saying I won't be back to panic stations and in the depths of despair tomorrow. But I have hope that even if things get really hard there will still appear to be things I can work at, a way out of this alive.
I mean there is, of course. I just want to remember that.
So glad to see this, Cherry. Keep coming back to this post in your dark moments - perhaps it will help you to hold on to your hope in the bad times. X
Even if the wheels do grind 'exceeding slow' you've got over two hurdles so things are moving in the right direction.
Do the courses start every thirteen weeks? Or are they personal to each individual, ie: are the patients at any given time at different stages of their treatment?
If the latter is the case perhaps you will be able to start sooner than you think.
Best wishes,
N
The courses start for each individual whenever they can accommodate you. In fact they use a "buddying" system for the first two days, where another patient? inmate? customer? helps show you the ropes. So there is always a mix of people at different stages of treatment.
That seems to be the case with most facilities I've read about, online and in fiction.
My particular challenge is that I have to wait for a detox followed by an inpatient stay. So a bed in a four person unit for a week, immediately leading to a private room for 13+ weeks. I'm by no means the only person who has required this, but it is definitely more tricky logistically. They feel I'm too vulnerable and lack a support network for me to leave and go back on a later date.
I don't know.
In some ways I'm feeling so much more positive because I'm in the system now. I haven't slipped between the cracks.
In some ways I feel less panicked and just more resigned, which I suppose is progress. Because the more I hear, the further treatment seems to be receding time-wise. And yet I know it's not actually a mirage.
Which I suppose is me saying SNAFU.
If I regret anything it's posting unfairly about Mum when I've been in a temper, or feeling hurt. Both bring out such vitriol and unpleasantness and it is still there years later.
Shit, we know you were just blowing off steam. Someone reading it years later? If they don't get it, can't see that steam in context, fuck 'em. ;)
The important thing is, despite them jerking you around at the moment you're moving in the right direction. You'll be much more gooder after you get through this.
hahahahahahahahaha. Bruce, that's awesome.
I missed that Bruce, gave me a big laugh.
Well, I had my endoscopy this morning. It was awful. From the fact that the throat numbing spray tasted of banana to me gagging, retching and throwing up all the way through.
They gave me a copy of my report and it has three little pictures on the bottom!
A new addition to the family album...
I have three varices in my throat, both grade I and grade II. These are directly linked to drinking, at least in my case, as they are symptomatic of cirrhosis.
I have to get to my Doctor before I go into St Anne's to get beta blockers, but the most effective treatment is abstinence.
Varices will bleed if they become enlarged, and although there is no evidence that they have been bleeding yet, it is probable they will if I carry on drinking.
I also have mild, portal hypertensive gastritis in my fundus. This comes under the heading Stomach. I thought your fundus was your posterior. I suppose that's why doctors and nurses have to do all that pesky learning stuff. No-one mentioned this, so I guess it's not important.
The staff were lovely to me. The nurse even wiped my eyes with a tissue afterwards. They all kept telling me how well I was doing as I heaved bile onto the pillow and I shook like a whipped dog. Still, in the scheme of things it didn't take long, and it's all over now except for a sore throat.
Am going to insist on sedation again if I need another one.
Sorry to hear that this morning was something of a trial for you, Sundae.
Given my sleep deprived brain, I can't offer much in the way of words of comfort other than to say at least it's over and done with.
As ever, best wishes.
Another trial behind you now. Can't you hear me cheering you on from Almaty? No? X
Wishing you all the best Sundae. I know I haven't been around much, but still ... <3
Hugs ... thoughts and prayers from us over the pond.
Not easy being good, but at least it will keep you being.
Fundus (Latin for "bottom") is an anatomical term referring to the portion of an organ opposite from its opening. Examples include:
Fundus (stomach), the left portion of the stomach's body
Fundus of gallbladder, the portion of the gallbladder which lies the farthest from the cystic duct
Fundus (uterus), the top portion, opposite from the cervix
Fundus (eye), of the eye is the interior surface of the eye, opposite the lens, and includes the retina, optic disc, macula and fovea, and posterior pole Fundus camera for photographing the interior of the eye
Fundus of the urinary bladder
Fundus (brain)
Sounds like fundus is doctor code for expensive for you and profitable for them.
Hi honey, go ahead and book that Ibiza vacation, Mrs Roony's gall bladder will fundus. ;)
Okay.
Still waiting for a telephone appointment with the doctor regarding my beta-blockers. Scheduled for 09.05. Reminded me of why I hate telephone appointments so much, something always goes wrong and there is no feedback.
Apparently there has been a computer glitch.
Will call again after lunch, because I now consider myself a priority call.
Diz to be collected after 13.00.
Which will be another fun wait, as it generally means anything from 12.45 until 16.00. And I can hardly hassle this woman.
And then packing, which I'm not starting until Diz has gone because he knows what packing means and there is no point in upsetting him further.
That will give me an opportunity to see if I am missing anything, and a chance to go and get it. I've run through my morning and evening routines in my head and can't think of anything I don't have. I don't have to pack for the full 14 weeks of course, just make sure I don't forget anything entirely, because I won't be allowed off the grounds in the first week and I'm not sure if they place restrictions for the first few weekends. I would if I was them.
Early doors tomorrow, on the bus at 08.00.
Think of me if you're awake at 09.00.
Ach damn, already? Sorry hon, I've had my head in my work all week, hadn't realised we were so close to The Day.
You're doing a great job, Sundae.
We will be here when you get back Sundae, just as if you'd never left.
Diz gone. So weird going back to the flat without him.
Thought, can I make it to the Post Office or should I go home for a wee? Would be better otherwise Diz will think it's dinnerti..... Oh. May as well drop by the flat first, in case there's a queue at the Post Office. For post I mean, not for a wee.
It will be easier in an unfamiliar place.
Turns out Docs had the wrong mobile number. Glad I bothered to call back a second time.
I knew there was something hinky when I called this morning. Due a call in about ten minutes, from the patronising Doc. But hey, this time it's a direct order from the hospital, so it's not like he can do anything other than fill the prescription.
Half packed. Had to come out to look up some account numbers for companies I'm contacting about my temporary address. Looking forward to it again now, all hurdles overcome except getting the prescription which is more like stepping over a skipping rope.
Ask me again at 03.39 when I'm bolt upright in bed worrying about whether this will go on my permanent record and stop me having my 80th birthday on the moon and is that someone on the landing and what if everyone there hates me....
Onwards, upwards, already Leeds-bound in my head. Eighteen hours.
Good luck Sundae! I hope the treatment has the desired result. Xxx
Whatever illness you're suffering, it hasn't affected your thinking, your ability to convey clear, vivid images to all of us here. It's a little unsettling, the uncertainty and fear about your coming treatment, not your eloquence. But I am with you via the cellar, and I have many friends here who feel the same way. Count on that.
I feel that the mental toughness you've displayed and the medical attention you've described will carry you through this ordeal.
All the best, Sundae. Always thinking of you.
We are praying for you Sundae.
Cherry sent me these two pics of her current billet.
and says she hopes to drop in here soon.
I was just worrying about her yesterday and seeing these pics is kind of relieving.
Comfy looking digs. Hope she's doing well!
Looks nice considering where she actually is.
Thanks for posting those, limey. I'm glad she's doing well.
Looks pretty nice. Hope she is well.
Hang in there, Cherry. The digs look good. Thanks, Limey, for sharing this.
Thanks to everyone.
Communication here is difficult and limited, and I'll admit after a day of sessions and soul-searching I am often not in the mood, even if I do have the opportunity.
Money is still an issue, as ever as always, even though I anticipated it not being, what with almost everything provided. Unfortunately going home every weekend for post and bits and bats I forgot takes 1/4 automatically from the pot. I've also had to replace things I thought were okay but weren't, like trainers for the gym and a new swimsuit. And to supplement my food (see below - that stops this week) and then my bank has just taken £28 of my £17 per week allowance.
BUT I am working with a trainee social worker so that when I walk out of here I no longer have to fear bailiffs or unexpected bills or anything being cut off (like fingers). Which is worth a lot.
Anyway as soon as I can get some stamps I'll send some more postcards out.
Morning is breakfast, chores, sessions until lunchtime.
Lunch
Afternoon sessions then dinner, homework and once a week a "social evening" which is 50p but that pays for prizes.
The food is very stodgy, and comes in enormous quantities. No point in saving some for the next day, as there will be just as much, and no result to request for smaller portions. There is also no attempt at nutrition; lunch today was a white floury bap with bacon. No fibre, fruit, vegetables etc. None of my favourite grains, all rice and pasta are white, few spices etc.
We often get highly discounted food on its sell-by date from a local cash & carry, but this is mostly sweet items or things like trays of sandwiches which arrive after dinner. Occasional fruit bowls which cannot be relied on. So I've been trying to buy my own fruit, but I can only do this from the market once a week (it closes before I can leave late afternoon) and the closest supermarket open late Mon-Fri only sells large packs of what I like - not a bargain.
Anyway. Enough with the moaning.
Free hot water, laundry (inc detergent), drying, good showers, toilet paper (I was half-inching it from pubs before I came in here), two hours gym a week and at least three weekends out of four off, except for homework. The other weekend will include a Saturday or Sunday in the kitchen, which eats up the best part of four hours in the middle of the day and an hour from 16.30.
As you can see from the photos (thanks Limey) I have a decent room. I got the smallest one when I first came off detox, so was offered this one as soon as it was free. Yay!
The work is hard. Sometimes it cuts to the bone and makes me cry all evening. Sometimes it's dull. Sometimes the carb dip after lunch makes even an interesting session hard to keep my eyes open. I'm catatonic.
Sleeping well generally, although still extremely anxious. But I can sleep from 21.30 until 06.50 every night.
Getting fat as a pig by gomming down the sweet food I now crave to replace the alcohol (see above for "trying to replace with fruit") Am making another concerted effort this week. Still, I've lost weight before. I haven't been sober this long for a while.
Miss you all.
Please come as private patients and give me some normal people to interact with. Ones who don't chain-smoke or crunch sweets constantly at least.
Great to hear from you again, Cherry!
Best wishes.:):):)
Excellent to hear from you, Sundae! Maybe Dana could smuggle some fruit into the premises?
Sent by thought transference
Sundae!!!
Nice to hear form you m'dear. I am unable to text unfortunately (account not active :p). Have tried ringing your mobile - is that working?
I have been trying to make myself send back a card/letter - I will do so tomorrow! I will be there on the 22nd :)
Was hoping to get over there sooner, but between the thesis (dangerously close to the extended deadline now) the telesales job and Nelle sitting when Mum's at SAMs, it just isn't happening :(
The work is hard. Sometimes it cuts to the bone and makes me cry all evening.
Most work worth doing is hard.
This work is worth doing! You ARE doing it! I say, go go go!
You seem like you're doing well, Sundae. I'm happy for you!
Sounds like you're on a good path. Congrats.
Keep up the good work...you're worth it.
Keep after it hammer and tongs.
Good job Sundae. What a nice surprise to hear from you. It sounds like you've got a good understanding of what's expected, what's needed from you. It sounds like you're doing what needs to be done. That is an inspiration. Thanks.
Catch up when you can, we'll be thinking of you. :)
It's good to hear from you. I'm glad you're doing what needs doing.
It is good to here from you Cherry, we love you and, are praying for you.
Don't want to rush you, Sundae, or cast nasturtiums...but there's been no activity in the celeb death pool since you took a break..... those geriatric brits seem to have stopped dying off so much.... ;)
Up and down here.
I've wanted to leave, I've wanted to stay forever.
Today is a good day :)
I'm sure that the 'down' days will dwindle to the point of insignificance, Cherry.
Keep plugging away. You can do it! :thumb:
All the best.
Up and down, up and down, then at the end a euphoric orgasm. Good plan. :thumb:
Painted my nails this afternoon, always a good sign.
I've been making friends with the local wildlife.
When I get a chance to upload some more photos, I'll share my one of a jay.
Never seen one before I moved here. Supposed to be shy woodland birds, hard to spot in flight. Apart from when they swoop in to get nuts from city centre rehab windowsills, or sit preening in nearby cherry trees waiting for some more to be served. At least the squirrel dines in rather than take-away.
Poor squirrels have three members of the crow family after their nuts in Leeds; crows, magpies and jays. Or maybe I attract them personally, being the biggest nut of all.
When I get a chance to upload some more photos, I'll share my one of a jay.
Never seen one before I moved here. Supposed to be shy woodland birds, hard to spot in flight. Apart from when they swoop in to get nuts from city centre rehab windowsills, or sit preening in nearby cherry trees waiting for some more to be served.
Is there an Oak in the vicinity? Jays are particularly fond of acorns so that might explain their presence. They'll build up a store of the things to keep them going through the winter.
We do see them from time to time here and several years ago we had three visit the garden frequently to feed on the crushed peanuts we left out.
Do you have the Eurasian jays?
That's the one, Bruce.
(I hope I'm not treading on Sundae's toes.:blush:)
Shouldn't think so, she'll post her Jay in due time. I was curious which Jay you get, as we get mostly Blue Jays. They're smart as hell, like the rest of the family(crows & Ravens), but bullies of the bird feeder.
The shriek of the blue jay is one of my least favorite sounds. I hate it. Grates on my nerves.
Went over to see Sundae today :) Gave her all your well wishes. Had a nice visit and she seemed in good spirits overall.
Thanks for representing us, Dana, I'm sure you did us proud.:D
Thanks for representing us, Dana, I'm sure you did us proud.:D
Ditto.
Good oh!
Sent by thought transference
I went to rehab.
Everyone was very kind, decent, determined to save us all.
This does not seek to mock them or belittle their efforts in any way.
But cheez-Louise, if you don't laugh you're going to cry, right?
We had Music Therapy every week.
The "child" of my key-worker - a great person and a good session. I learned more in that session about the other two people in my intake than any other.
To some people it was a joke, a blag. To us it was quite important and special, because none of us really REALLY liked music.
So knowing the others didn't either, I just chose what suited me and what matched the theme, I'd have been far more choosy if it had been a musical set of people.
I was stymied - actually we all were - by having no CDs and no portable music playing devices with us. Not music people, see?
Turns out my mini DVD player (from Mum, love it) plays CDs just fine.
So I'm off spending a whole week trawling the markets and second hand shops of Leeds just looking for the song I've decided on.
And five minutes before the session, two-tooth Mark is checking out the CD rack in the communal pool room.
Tcha.
I win though.
Of course.
I don't tell you the stories when I don't.
Because I made them listen to a song in French.
And Monty Python's Galaxy Song (for "Uplifting")
And when it was "Our Song" I chose one about the group, because I didn't have anyone else. Which made them a little sad. Given all the time and resources in the world I'd have played them The Doctor and I of course, to take in Limes, Dana, Bri, Arran, pantomimes and the Cellar in general. But you know, world enough and time and all that and everything.
Talking of Dana, she is excused this class because I told her all about it in enormous length and girth. And of course then we danced like totes amazeballs.
More exciting instalments if I get the chance.
Some of which may encompass the ridiculous food we were served.
Ridiculous in portion size I mean - I've been poor and hungry and I'll never scoff at a free meal. But no wonder I'm so huge now. I ate half of Yorkshire while I stayed there.
And of course then we danced like totes amazeballs.
Awesome! I haven't danced in ages. Not officially anyway.
Dana's house is the best venue.
Me, You, Her, Carrot. Tomorrow.
Okay, this is not a Christmas story.
It is not uplifting and does not as yet have a happy ending.
Please do not read today if that is what you are hoping for.
So anyone who took an interest knows I got myself kicked out of rehab for a single drink.
It's policy, and a policy I signed so I am apportioning no blame, just making it clear I didn't go on a two day bender or something.
Gutted at the time, because despite minor grumbles (I will always have those and to be fair I think many people do, I just record mine for posterity) it is the happiest and most stable I have been in YEARS, except on Arran).
Hung drawn and quartered afterwards because I simply couldn't cope coming out, finding out Diz was dead, losing my meds, my routine, etc etc.
So yes, that's when the bender really started.
No apologies. I am not an unrepentant alcoholic, but an alcoholic I am.
I can actually control it when my life is stable. But you know me and stable. The Baby Jebus is better acquainted.
Put myself in hospital again.
Woke up in the early hours of the morning - I've never really written about rehab but while there I had night after night of uninterrupted, peaceful and beneficial sleep. So this was a shock to the system.
Anyway I had the shakes SO bad, despite only having had a drink hours beforehand. My heart was doing a tarantella, my breathing was shallow and my skin was so sensitive that even during my intermittent freezy periods I could not bear anything touching it. By the time it was light I could see I was once again bright yellow with the old goldeneye, and I don't mean the song by Tina Turner.
So this time I avoided the GP as they had been so very difficult while I was in rehab.
No, really.
If I had the energy and inclination (criminal) I'd have torched the place.
Luckily I have neither.
Or the bus fare.
So off to St James's Hospital A&E.
This time I knew it would be a longer stay, so I packed more useful stuff.
Like a bag to vomit in. That's about it.
Alcoholics + planning = shit, unless it's planning more alcohol.
I was expecting the usual interminable wait in A&E despite it being pretty much the first bus into Leeds and a weekday besides (do NOT go in at night or at the weekend, or during any amateur sporting event. Or at all) So I asked for one of the pretty cardboard hats to be sick into. Finally a good decision.
I was.
In my usual fashion - noisily and ridiculously dramatically. Have done since I was a tiny mini-me (Mum says, "Why can't you just be sick normally like your sister?) Nope. Always a drama. Nothing like the rest of my life at all.
Anyway, this bumped me up the list because I was polite, articulate, considerate, Southern (sorry, it's true, we get different treatment), yellow as a banana and could probably have Ebola or something. I spoke to a lovely treatment Doctor (himself a Southern emigree - Eltham, don't blame him) who was kind enough to compliment me on being the first drunk he'd ever treated who behaved in a civil fashion. Must have been my fashion sense, as puking in A&E, even in a cardboard hat, is hardly civil. Maybe he liked my purple coat.
Off again to SAU, where I went last time before they got me into rehab.
Where all the Nurses spend their time doing admin jobs, trying to get beds for everyone - which means pretty much everyone not bleeding or dying. Oh and fitting canulas and checking no-one has shrunk since they were last admitted. This hospital obsession with height, I swear...
I got a bed pretty quickly this time, only about 12? hours.
Shame it was on such a lacklustre ward. Still...
Long post already.
Will continue.
I arrived on the Gastro ward via orter at about 01.30.
No-one on the desk, but the porter (nice chap) had my bed number and delivered me.
This meant I had no introduction and in fact had to ask other patients for minor help like where the loo was etc.
Found out days later there was a Day Room including a free TV (you have to pay something
RIDICULOUS for TV and phones on wards now. I think it's £5 an hour) And it had BOOKS IN.
Slept most of the day thanks to Chlordiazepoxide - necessary for detox, not their fault - then stayed awake all night because I was on a ward of 4 old biddies who couldn't work their call buttons and kept shouting "Nurse! Nurse!" So nice to hear and smell someone sharting into a cardboard hat.
Aside from food, I had no treatment, no questions, no assistance.
Well. fair enough, I put myself there. There are real people with real problems after all.
Oh except a lovely lady on the SAU. 50's I'd say.
Limey's attitude.
Yes there are rules but if you've broken them it doesn't mean you're broken yourself.
She told me I was less trouble than what I termed people with "real" problems because some of them drove too fast, or ate too much sugar or put themselves in as much danger as I had. And for goodness sake I was polite about it. Never saw her name badge, wish I had. I'd send her a thank you card without details.
So off home.
Guess what?
Nothing had changed!
Diz was still dead. My flat was still a health hazard. I was still in financial trouble, and the pubs were still open.
Well, well, well.
Let's see if we can work out what happened next boys and girls?
Now don't get me wrong.
I did make some sensible phone calls, did some things I was scared of and faced up to. I also went to Leeds for an appointment, rode a big cock (
Cellar link safe for work) and the Dickensian festival in Otley made me smile an awful lot. And cry, because the carol singers were marvellous (proper choir I say, mixture of ages and genders, not all pre-pubescent boys). The choir master asked for requests and after 5 seconds silence I couldn't stop myself any longer. " Adeste Fideles please!" His face lit up. Then dropped. "It'll be in English I'm afraid" he said. Oh bless him. "But will you still have the descant?" I asked. Again he was a picture - he was speaking to a lady who knew her stuff. "Of
course!"
It was beautiful and I leaked a bit at the eyes.
And there were proper Mummers.
I gave them some money I couldn't really afford because they'd obviously worked really hard at what they did. Anyway, I'd only have spent it on a "real pork" hot dog ;)
Photo is me being all non-yellow after treatment. Which will give you an idea.
So.
I had a few mugs of mulled cider at the festival (barely alcoholic actually, because it's heated) and came home in the dark.
To find a note wedged into the door from my Landlord.
I'm paraphrasing here, but not by much.
It told me that unless I responded by return he would consider my occupancy terminated and my belongings would be disposed of. I didn't know this was illegal - a formal eviction notice has to be served.
After a little bit of vomiting, I braved a text response explaining I had been absent and was trying to work through some mental health issues. I was seeking advice regarding my situation. Because even I know you don't make financial promises in writing.
I then received FIVE text messages in quick succession, each more threatening than the last - sadly I started deleting them after the second. And then a couple of voicemail messages, ditto.
But it proves that the time I called Dana and Limey in a panic when I thought he'd entered my flat was actually true, because of details he included in the second text.
Anyway, no sleep for Cherry that night.
Some of what I owned was still stored in rehab with no way to get it back on a single bus trip - although they have been very good about the whole thing.
I was about to be made homeless with everything else I owned destroyed.
I had a box of ashes instead of the furry love of my life.
I was in debt.
I couldn't go home - and although I love Otley more than Aylesbury, home is still where my family live.
Radio 5 told me it would freeze that night. And it was obvious from midday it would.
I saw a way out.
I planned reasonably well.
Escaped the flat for the day, making sure I was good and cold.
Used the last of my paper money to buy a bottle of vodka - alcohol raises skin temperature without body core temperature.
I even took sandwich bags and toilet paper so if I had to do the necessary I wouldn't defile the forest.
Oh, by the way I decided on death by exposure because even though I thought my landlord was A PIG he was actually a businessman and did not deserve to find a body in his flat. More of that later, he is actually A PIG.
So, after spending my last pennies on half a pint in an old giffers' pub to give me courage, and to have a wee, I set off on the two mile climb up to the Chevin.
I made some big mistakes though.
Firstly, do not wear flip-flops. Yes, you will stop feeling your feet very quickly but you will also not be able to leave the main path, which is actually very unfair to early morning dog walkers. Wear stout shoes and take them off.
Secondly take Lola's lovely little torch (which I still use and is usually in my bag) or you will not be able to leave the main path and be very easy to find.
Thirdly, do not call a Dwellar. Even though having no word at all from Brianna broke your heart and you know this Dwellar will be awake at that time. Step forward if you'd like to BTW, I am only preserving your anonymity out of respect to you.
Good thing though, I heard my first ever real owl. How cool is that?
Anyway I removed my clothes down to my underwear - my dead mottled minge is not something I think anyone by a Coroner should be subjected to.
Then had a good ol pull on the voddy, forgetting about the whole I-don't-drink-neat-spirits thing and so promptly threw a fair amount back up again. What? I'm writing about a suicide attempt here, I might as well give all the details.
Anyway. I thought I was all canny and clever when I talked to the Dwellar.
As if.
Said person worked out enough to call my Mum.
One or other of them got in contact with the Police.
I'd only been there a couple of hours when a Police helicopter turned up, searchlights on. Then the blues and twos, lights flashing. At this point I knew I couldn't compete. They had proper boots and lights and everything. I'd already lost a flip-flop in the dark, I could hardly outrun them.
It was at this point I was struggling back into my clothes (one final indignity I wanted to spare my family) that I fell face forward onto the forest floor.
I've broken two "insignificant sinus" bones and am blind in one eye. Although they expect sight to return partially or even totally.
And that, folks, is why you don't take your dead cat's ashes out to a dark forest with you.
I'll tell you the unedifying story of the second hospital ward they put me on, and the nuthouse I am now in (well - I'm on leave at my parents' for Christmas) later.
But two interesting addendums:
After all the threats and unpleasantness from the the PIG, the Chief MALE member of Nursing Staff from the nuthouse called him and he said said, nice as pie "Oh no, she still has the tenancy, nothing has been removed blah blah blah" So my glasses, which I have trouble seeing through my good eye without, my phone charger which meant I was friendless for ?six? weeks, and my underwear which meant I had my arse sticking out of a backless hospital gown for the same amount of time are all waiting at "home" for me. Which is nice.
And the same with my post, meaning the letter from the DSS saying I needed to contact them with further information is just sitting in the hall. So guess what they did? Like any agency anywhere they assumed I didn't need the money and stopped my claim. I borrowed money from a very kind person just to pay the (exorbitant!) bus fare from Oxford to Aylesbury and finally buy some deodorant.
I know, half blind and still moaning about money.
A least I have Diz. Even if he's a bit crunchier than he was.
So it was an actual suicide attempt?
Ach damn, I didn't know that. I knew you'd taken Diz's ashes and gone up the Chevin - didn't realise you had no intention of coming back down alive.
*hugs*
Ahh honey. It's a rum old life.
I'm glad you're still with us, Cherry. And extremely grateful to the Dwellar who managed to get in touch with your mom.
As the Dwellar mentioned in Post # 280 above, Sundae has invited me to make a contribution to the thread and this is posted with her approval.
I’m not breaching any confidences but it will allow me to place things in context and express thanks to those who deserve it.
It’s probably best to start with my mobile phone. The main reason for having my phone is so that aged Dad can get in touch with me in the event of some domestic calamity occurring on the few occasions I’m out of the house and he’s on his own.
It is usually switched off when I am home but on this occasion I had left it on and noticed that there was a missed call from Sundae made at about midday.
I tried calling back but it switched to voice mail so I sent a text. This was at bedtime on the Monday evening so I decided to leave the phone on for a few minutes in case she called back.
As it happened I went to sleep so the phone remained on which, as things turned out, was fortunate.
At about 0015 a call came through from Sundae and it was immediately evident that she was in a distressed state. Over the next several minutes I managed to work out where she was, the weather and how she was dressed.
Please bear in mind I live about 200 miles from Otley so it was a bit of a shot in the dark working out her location. Although conversation was difficult we spoke for ten or fifteen minutes before the phone cut out.
I thought that the Police would be unlikely to place much credence in a call from somebody not related and a considerable distance away, so I rang her Mum who lives in Aylesbury just a few miles away from me.
I had no idea if the phone would be answered at 0030 but fortunately it was and I effected an introduction and gave an account of events and suggested that she phoned the Police.
At 0149 I received a text message from West Yorkshire Police asking me to call and quote a Log Number which I did. This allowed me to pass on details of Sundae’s call and prompted another call from an Inspector in the control room at about 0200. He was remarkably switched on and I don’t know how he did it at that hour. I think I spoke to him twice (memory a bit hazy) and on the second(?) call he said that he could see the output from the helicopter TV camera and somebody had been spotted in the woods. Fortunately, it was Sundae. At about 0230 the Police phoned me back once more to say that Sundae had been found and that she was OK but cold and in the care of the Ambulance Service. The rest you know.
The Police put a remarkable amount of effort into finding Sundae and they deserve our thanks as does the Ambulance Service.
Sundae, I'm sorry you were/are hurting so much. I'm really glad that you reached out to Carruthers and that he orchestrated your rescue. I would really miss you if you succeeded. When the holidays are over and you head back into the program, I hope that you give it your best shot. I'd like you to be healthy and I want to see you posting here for years to come.
Sundae, please don't ever try that again. Please.
I hope the funny farm, treats you well,
And I hope you have many great, dreams theeeerrreeeee...
And Iiiiieeeiiiiiiieeeeeiiiiii will always,
Love youuuuuueeeeuuuuueuuuuuu..... Xxx
Fuck.
Thank you Carruthers.
Thank you very much.
Cherry, we all love you. I love you. I am sorry you're feeling lost right now, and that you're hurting. I'm also angry that you tried to give up. It's alright to fail. It's alright to be weak. It's fine if you're scared and tired and lonely. No one will fault you for it. We've all felt lost.
You deserve those bruises, though.
You will get stronger from them. You're a deep and beautiful person. You mean a lot to very many. If you give up and leave us, we'd all be worse off. Love yourself, honey.... Love yourself first. Be a little better tomorrow. Be a little better than that the next day. Keep your focus on the present moment, and gather your strength. Nothing else is relevant. Just be.
What LJ said. We're all here temporarily, Cherry, with a few things to do before we move on. The next person you meet may be the most important interaction you'll ever have, for you or for him/her. When it's time to go there'll be no stopping it (decades of medicine has taught me this at least). So, make the most of your time here, and keep on with your wonderful writing. You have such a talent. Don't take any more trips up the Chevin just yet.
I'm also angry that you tried to give up. It's alright to fail. It's alright to be weak. It's fine if you're scared and tired and lonely. No one will fault you for it. We've all felt lost.
You deserve those bruises, though.
Yes I do deserve these bruises. I didn't post them for sympathy (although I have in the past posted bruises I felt I haven't deserved for sympathy)
What I didn't deserve was all the effort people went to, to keep me alive. And yes I thanked each and every one of them.
I posted because if I go to a theme park, I post photos of a theme park. If I have a great day out with Dana, I post a great day out with Dana. So if I smash my face up, I take photos and show you. Just pray I never get a prolapsed rectum.
Now I'm not going to say "Walk a day in my shoes". Because I hate that cliché, and they wouldn't fit (another over-used joke) and it would cut no ice with you anyway.
And anyone can survive a day like the days I have. Some people for quite a while.
I can't write for suicides everywhere but for me I could not and still can't see a future. There are people FAR worse off. There are people with FAR harder lives. There are people who will never give up, not never not ever.
I'm not one of them. I am weak, yes. And tired, and lonely. And broken.
I do try.
I've managed 42 years and yes I am still pretty much trying. No, please don't pat my back too hard, I'm delicate, remember.
I don't ask for sympathy or understanding, even if sometimes it looks like that's what I want.
There are at least two people in my life who think I was treated extremely badly in order to end up in this situation. I disagree. I think I'm just me. And I'm just sharing.
Wait til I write the posts I start moaning about being in the madhouse - I probably will deserve the "Poor me" sobriquet then.
Honestly, it's terrifying, the lunatics could run it better and I'd still rather be there on many days. Just not the ones where they throw chairs at eachother during dinner. But hey, I've lost 26lbs because of it.
Even if with this (well earned) puffy face you'd never believe it. I must have slept (SIX HOURS!!! a recent record) on the bad side last night because today it looks like it might actually give birth.
But Carruthers is probably seeing it later and he can report back.
Trouble is he's such a gentleman he'll no doubt pretend I could still win Miss World.
Thanks to everyone for your kind comments.
And thank you for not pretending it was not a "cry for help".
I'm glad you are sharing everything. That's what you have always done. You are probably the most honest person I know, and I love that about you.
I'm over here, half a world away, pecking on my phone screen, hoping to say just the right thing that will motivate you to fight this thing and beat it. But the truth we both know is that it's something you have to face yourself. I think you can do it. Really. I do.
I feel a little guilty that I'm not facing the things that you are facing. It's not fair. Life is easier for me. I don't know why.
I'm kind of rambling here. Not sure what my point is. I hated losing Brianna, and losing you too would be so much worse. Not that I'm comparing you to her, but to lose two magnificent women in our community would be unbearable.
So I'm being selfish. I don't want to go through that again.
I love your raw honesty when you share here. And I don't want it to end.
I think you have had different chapters in your life, and this one sucks right now, but there are more chapters to come. Surely the ones that come will be better. If you burn the book now, the ending will suck. Give it a chance to move on to the next act. It can't get much worse.
I was too stunned to think of anything but Sundae, Carruthers got dumped by the wayside.
Carruthers thank you very much for what you did for Sundae, and us.
Outstanding, sir.
:notworthy
Carruthers, thank you.
I posted because if I go to a theme park, I post photos of a theme park. If I have a great day out with Dana, I post a great day out with Dana. So if I smash my face up, I take photos and show you. Just pray I never get a prolapsed rectum.
Cookie'd.
Sundae, has there ever been anything bad come from your sharing? It has only led to good for us, I believe.
Carruthers definitely gets the Master Dwellar Award today. Thank you Sir.
Sundae, one of my favorite shares from you was that beautiful carol a few years back. Your voice and personality are so "real" that you force others to try to measure up in building this community. You are a keystone here.
Holy fucking Shit! What the fuckity fuck?
I'm at a total loss here. Others have said what I too think. I look at my life and hos shitty some of it was and then I see some of what you go through and I get STRONGER from you. If you can handle "X", well I sure as hell can handle my little shit.
Bloody hell, woman. You are raw and smart and honest and open and caring and sweet and and and and and .... What the fuck? I personally forbid you from trying that shit again. You may not remember, but you welcomed me when I first came here. You had joined a few months before me. We spoke on the phone once when I was in a very tough place. You talked me through some serious emotional shit. I was at my ropes end ... or so I thought. I was the one ready to quit. I still remember that and think of where Dan would be if I was gone. Holy Fuck.
I'm so glad you are still here and so pissed that you think/thought so little of yourself or whatever.
Damn girl! No more of this, I will not have it. You hear me?
Cherry, Why you do these things. We love you, and want you to be well. If you want to talk call me you have my number.
Gravdigr, Undertoad, lumberjim and Griff.
Thank you, Gentlemen. I'm sure that you'd have done the same for a friend.
Shit yeah, you're pretty smart for a guy that walks into beams. :p: You probably made the cops night when he was moaning about being stuck on a dead shift, and you gave him a chance to show his boss he really has skills. And of course sending the cavalry to rescue Miss Anti-Good Decisions. Tell you what, I'll give you $200 to give her a good kick in the cunt, just for scaring us thinking how close she came to really fucking up. :nadkick:
:eek: :smack: :mecry: :comfort:
It's been said already, but thank you, Carruthers, and please don't leave us, Sundae. :sniff:
Okay, so a bit of catch up on some of the weirdness.
I had The Worst Detox I've ever had when I went into St James's in December. St Anne's staff and denizens told me that every lapse/ relapse gets worse, and therefore so does every detox, but this was a jump of warp speed standards.
The hallucinations were a bitch.
I didn't get insects, I got fur throws, feathers, glitter, sparkle and silver paint.
No, I'm not being facetious, that really was my experience. It did get weary after a while, when you can't actually open either of your eyes, have significant sight loss, no glasses and are trying to spit toothpaste into the sink, it's tiring to see it coated in silver paint and not be able to work out whether you have left it clean for the next person.
There were pools of blood on the floor and tendrils coming down from the ceiling, but in general it was soft furnishings.
But one of the weirdest parts was the day I spent believing I was in an observation unit. I thought I'd been taken onto another ward, awaiting an appointment. I figured out that we were being kept waiting so they could observe us, and that the person in the bed opposite was a member of staff. I waited and waited, at one point forgetting I was in Leeds, thinking I was back in Cambridge waiting for my liver biopsy. Anyway, it got to the point where I'd been patient (!) enough, thank you. No one seemed to have been called in for ages and I was going to miss tea on the Ward if I wasn't seen soon. So for the only time I was in hospital I rang the call button. It was 16.45 and tea is served at 17.00.
I asked the nurse who came whether I was going to be fed in the waiting area, or if they would be holding my tea on the ward for me, because I'd been waiting all day.
No, she said, I was ON the ward. I'd had my tea. It was the middle of the night, did I need anything?
Even now I don't know if I'd been asleep and dreaming, or genuinely lying there deluded and waiting. I hope it was the former. But I doubt I'll ever forget the sense of the whole world I was living in slowly reforming into a different picture.
Another was the night my landlord came onto the ward to take me back to the flat and clean it up. He came with two bailiffs at about 02.00. They were there to serve me papers, he was there for revenge. The nurses were very calm about it and refused to let him question me as I was under sedation. The bailiffs said that at the very least I had to accompany them back to the flat, but the nurses called in extra support staff to make sure I wasn't taken off the ward.
That was the night of the screaming nightmare. Even when there are big burly men just out of sight with a wheelchair ready to take you away, you still can't help drifting off sometimes. I did, and woke up the ward. It will sound silly, but what set off the screaming (and it is almost unknown for me to scream - usually I am unable to manage in dreams and just make noises) was when I realised my landlord was wearing my hat, and pulled it down over his face.
As I was shaken awake by one of the staff I heard the other one say, "She must have heard, she must have known he was here." So although I knew the dream was a dream, I also knew that the bailiff visit was real. Funny no-one ever referred to it...
I also had a visit from a squaddie collecting for The Dog's Trust.
He sat on the end of my bed for ages, waiting to talk to me.
I had to pretend to be asleep, as I knew he wanted money - which I didn't have, and for dogs - when I'd just lost my precious cat - and he'd had colleagues die and suffer because the charity couldn't afford sniffer dogs in Afghanistan.
I lay rigid for so long in the end my calf muscles cramped up.
Luckily a staff member stopped by and I signalled to her minutely that I was being bothered. But it turned out he'd gone after all. Then she disappeared and I wasn't sure she'd been there at all.
I've always been so scared of going mad.
How did I ever get so bad I couldn't even recognise myself?
Not sure what to say about all that except it was a good thing you were in hospital for it. X
Sounds like a really bad dream. All scary and jumping around, and not making much sense.
At least you're "with it" enough now to share it. Thanks for letting us know what's going on.
The staff sound like they are taking good care of you, and not judging. So don't judge yourself. It's getting better, and will continue to get better, little step by little step.
Stop worrying about going mad, you are and always have been, just like the rest of us. Anyone who thinks they aren't mad as a hatter, is crazy.
So no need to worry about that, just cooperate with the staff and they'll do their best keep out of harms way.
No, the above refers to my hospital detox, not the mental health unit where I am now.
I'm being made to go home tomorrow night (Friday) after a day in a daycare centre. I found this out today . I have no money, no food in the flat, no idea if my electricity is still on and have not been back to clean it since I left for my suicide attempt.
But they can't discharge me before I've had overnight and I was given my discharge date of Sunday in a meeting I hadn't even been expecting.
Just have to do my best to get through it. I have no choice.
I was basically told any offers to put me in touch with various agencies were conditional on my leaving on Sunday. And I wouldn't have a room here any more anyway.
This isn't tough love btw.
This is poor management of time and resources which have led to everything happening at the last second leaving me uninformed and unprepared.
In the words of the immortal Papa Lazarou, "It's just a saga now."
I came to the day hospital yesterday, understanding that I'd be forced "home" (the flat) that night. I'd told anyone at Becklin who stood still for long enough about my problems with returning there completely unprepared, both practical and emotional, but no-one was interested.
When I got here (they call it Hawthorn, although it seems known by at least three different names outside) they listened. They called Becklin and refused to release me back to the flat overnight given the expected snow and cold weather and my precarious situation.
So back to Becklin, where I washed and dried everything possible and ate a big meal. and had a hot bath. I even had toast for breakfast - two slices WITH jam!
Then I expected to come back here today after discharge. I was up early to pack - the concession of me being accepted back last night was apparently that I was discharged today (Saturday) not Sunday.
However this morning I was stopped in the corridor on my way to the bathroom by a staff member who said that things had changed again, Hawthorn were being difficult (ie taking my needs into consideration) and I may be returning to Becklin for another night rather than being immediately discharged. So I wasn't to pack and take everything with me.
And then before I left there, it was suggested I may be discharged on return from Hawthorn tonight after all.
So here I am, on the computer, watching the snow fall, waiting to hear what is going to happen to me.
I have far more faith in this place than I do in anyone back there, but if I leave here in the dark and then Becklin try to discharge me I will kick and scream for another night in that bed.
It's just ridiculous. All I want is to go back to the flat in daylight, put the storage heaters on, reassure myself the electricity is switched on. I would rather they packed my room for me and sent it home, than pay for me to go back there and do it myself, not because it's a chore, but because it's a ridiculously circuitous route which will involve long waits on my part for very little reason.
Anyway, the plan when it happens is for me to come here daily for a while, never ever go back to the Becklin Centre ever again, and slowly work on making my flat habitable, sorting out my finances and getting myself better with the help of people here and via the two other agencies who will be working with me.
Of course at present the plans are being changed hourly, I face toting a great deal of stuff about in the dark, and my anxiety levels are running extremely high. Who knew leaving the nuthouse would be worse and more stressful than entering it, even wanting to put it behind me?
Here's hoping the Hawthorn holds sway. And well done in persistently telling your story over and over again until it was heard. xxx
Sent by thought transference
I am now fully discharged from the Becklin Centre.
They had one final trick up their sleeve, discharging me without my full meds, because apparently my drugs chart is here at Hawthorn. Of course no-one could have predicted that in advance, given that they passed the drugs chart over themselves that morning without discharging me...
Still, I am in the position as stated above. Never not ever have to see them again.
I hated my time there. The only reason I clung on at the end was because of the promises originally made to me about the help I would receive before discharge. And because in a cold, dark wintery landscape there is something to be said for hot baths, a tumble drier, three meals and day and free electricity.
Have I managed to do anything to my flat yet, even taking out a single piece of rubbish?
No. Got back in the dark last night, left at 08.00 this morning. I'll be living like an animal in a hole for a little while yet. But I won't be there 24/7 this week at least, I won't be making anything worse there and I won't be drinking.
And I'll have access to you.
You still have electricity at the flat? The day hospital functions at weekends?
Sent by thought transference
I still have electricity at the flat, although I will try my best to use as little as possible as I already face a large bill. Of course this is the worst time of year to be trying to make fuel economies :right:
And yes, this place is open every day, including weekends.
I don't know if I'm officially obliged to be here, but it is a protective environment, even if no groups or sessions run today. And I have to show willing in order to get as much help as possible. From what I gather I'll get two weeks here before I'm moved on...
I like hearing that you are planning to keep checking in to the hospital. I have no idea how it all works, but continually asking for help has got to be a good idea.
Christ on a bike, what a nightmare you've had! Sorry you've been through the mill, hon. Hopefully the support systems you're accessing now can help you keep on an even keel.
Glatt, a "day hospital" is a day centre which provides structure, activities, support and sometimes treatment to those who attend. The ones I've known of are only open weekdays. You are right, Sundae's plan is a good one.
Sent by thought transference
It's only "a day centre", but even without structured programs it's a sanctuary with amenities. That should make it easier to get the apartment squared away in the evening, a little at a time, knowing in the morning the sanctuary is there.
Of course the danger is going back to the apartment and hiding under a blanket until morning, knowing the sanctuary is there.
Of course the danger is going back to the apartment and hiding under a blanket until morning, knowing the sanctuary is there.
That's pretty much what I've been doing the last few days, not so much because this is good or easier, but because to start with they recommend being here all day. By the time I get home it's cold and dark and I'm not up to anything.
I'm "off" tomorrow, and the morning is free for me to make a start - I have a follow up at the Dental Hospital tomorrow afternoon, which will eat up pretty much the whole afternoon, what with buses and all. Once I'm not spending all day here I will be able to start making a difference back at the flat. I expect the impact I make will run in tandem with an improvement in my mental health.
It took over two hours to get here this morning and although I don't expect the journey home to be quite so long (as none of it will be during rush hour) I doubt it will be any faster than 1.5 hours at any point. Rather than cutting down my daily hours when I am advised they feel I'm ready to attend less, I think I will cut down on the days I attend. Which will mean daylight hours in Otley for cleaning, chores and walking.
It's up to me to improve my living conditions, and I will. It's all for my own benefit after all.
It's up to me to improve my living conditions, and I will. It's all for my own benefit after all.
No no no, that attitude is too easy to transition into, fuck it, it doesn't hurt anyone else so why bother.
Keep in mind the Queen might stop in for a cuppa, or somebody really important like Limey or Dana or your Mom.
Now square that shit away so you don't get caught unprepared.
I was reminded tonight of one of the longer term effects of my last detox.
Anyone who knows me - here or certainly in person - knows I have a fertile imagination which tends towards horror and The Dark. And not in a one-upmanship way. I reserve that for dirty jokes and real life stories, usually involving my titties. Big but not clever as it were.
Anyway. Like I was saying, these things genuinely pop into ma heid.
Except now, having had real hallucinations, they sometimes frighten me.
Tonight for example, I went to close the curtains and it seemed as if one of the streetlights had gone out as I crossed the room. Now I'm 99% sure it was just the wind and the tree branches moving. But I closed my eyes like a little kid because my brain said, "Hey, what if you stood here and one by one every light leading up to the flat went out?"
It's a horror cliche, but really, imagine it happening for real.
And I could.
And I was scared I would see it happen.
No more scary What If games for Sundae.
And stupidist thing of all?
I was never scared by my hallucinations. Aside from the practical one about my debts, and even then it took an actual dream about a man wearing my pink hat to make me scream.
Went for a consultation the other week.
They're happy with my blood. It's not "normal", as in it would raise eyebrows for someone without my history. But it's returning to normal. And the indicators they are looking at take three months or more to change; it's not like a urine test or breathalyser or owt.
I was referred for a sonogram even before the blood results came through, because I'm in the system and they have to cover all bases. Had that yesterday - it was marvellous. I bitched a bit when I got the appointment, because you can't eat or drink for six hours beforehand, and the test was scheduled for 17.15; I've always had an early appointment before, so it'd only been a case of skipping breakfast. But in the end it wasn't onerous.
I arrived early, was seen early, and treated very kindly and gently (I've been proper jabbed up under the ribs for some scans).
Okay, I got sonogram jizz on one of my nice new bras - you have to wear nice undies when going into hospital, them's the rules. But I have three good bras now, so I can afford to have one out of commission.
I was in and out BEFORE my scheduled appointment time. Well worth a short spell of not eating. Made up for it with a Gregg's baguette in the bus station.
Apparently I'll get another appointment to discuss the results. I bet I don't. If my bloods are anything to go by, the results will just be sent in a letter to my GP and it'll be six months until a routine appointment. I'm IN the system, but I'm not considered at risk any more. Which is a plus, given that Addenbrooke's told me I had three years in 2013 (well, okay, three years if I didn't make lifestyle changes.)
Still, it'll give you an excuse to go and check in with the supportive GP in a couple of weeks, no?
Good on yer, girl, thanks for working at it to keep yourself around for us. x
Thanks for the good update. :)
Yay, I like good news. :)
I love hearing good news like this from you too. Thanks!
Well done, Sundae! All that effort is paying off. :thumb:
Yay Sundae, you are doing good girl.
Great to hear the good news
Had the results letter from my scan the other week.
The scan continues to show changes consistent with liver cirrhosis but I am pleased to say that no new abnormalities of concern were reported.
And no follow up appointment suggested or requested, so it sounds like they're trusting me to keep it under control.
YAY!
Sent by thought transference
What Limey, and Clodfobble said.
Well done, Cherry!
That hard work is paying off. Keep at it. :thumb:
Everybody wants you to succeed. It would be rude of you not to.
that has been a weird buoying thought in my down times and perhaps it could be for you too
Late joining, but good to hear! :)
me three or thirteen. Good job.
That's some great fuckin' news, Sundae. I am very pleased.
Okay, so an update on my recent jaunt to hospital. I'll try to break it up a bit, but you know me - if I decide to share it tends to be in detail.
Some of this is gross if you picture it. Be warned.
I came back from Leeds feeling a bit crook.
It was hammering down rain and I figured I may as well just head straight for bed, despite the fact it was mid-afternoon as it was dark enough for all the cars to have their lights on anyway.
Woke up in the late afternoon, still not feeling right.
Oops. Really not feeling right. I knew the signs - sudden hot flush, excess saliva, best head for the bathroom ASAP. Made it in plenty of time.
Drove the porcelain truck a little. Funnily enough, the last thing I'd had to eat was a natural yoghurt with a berry compote. Made my upchuck all red and clotted. Hahaha, looked like I'd puked up blood! I even sent Carruthers a text to that effect.
Had another kip, then woke up and it was dark. Felt a bit better, but hella thirsty, so I went to the off licence, knowing it would be open and that they were selling Capri-Sun at 2-for-1 (if unfamiliar, this is a very dilute orange drink).
SO thirsty in fact, I chugged one on the way back. Then started sipping the other.
Oh dear. Must've drunk it too fast. Ding ding, round two.
Now I hadn't put the light on, but it still seemed suspiciously red, albeit very watery. But hey - I'd just had a lot of soft drink.
Another snooze, then woke at the very last second and barely made it. At this point there was little to come up. But I was still bringing up some fluid. And I was back to my usual style of retching really badly and sending my whole body into spasm.
This was not right.
This was in fact pretty damn bad.
So I looked it up on my phone. WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
I determined to go to the Doctors first thing. Even if I puked in the street.
Nope.
I really didn't make it next time and splashed the walls and floor. Even I could see the colour now. And the clots. Bugger. So I grabbed some things to stuff in my bag - which already had some overnight stuff in I hadn't unpacked thank goodness. Then called 111 (the NHS advice line) After consulting with a supervisor the advisor came back to tell me he'd called an ambulance.
Sadly I had one more scare, and took my glasses off. Which meant I left them behind.
Waited behind the door (no doorbell two floors down from my flat) until the paramedics arrived. Straight into the ambulance, asked for and was given a little cardboard hat and promptly vomited up some blood for them. Off to hospital.
When we got there, the female paramedic - who'd been driving - went to check me in and scare up a wheelchair.
I entered A&E in style, vomiting blood into a (new) cardboard hat.
Oddly enough I was wheeled straight into a side room rather than left in the waiting area.
All was well until I knocked the (new, clean) hat down the side of the bed. In leaning over to see where it was I suddenly felt ill again, and tried to get off the bed.
Bloody vom all over my slippers, jogging bottoms and jumper (all now binned).
I also felt the spasm clench my body to such an extent that there was a significant back door exit too.
I was cleaned up at this point, I know that much, then wheeled to another area where I was advised I would be going straight into surgery. A lovely Dr then botched three attempts at fitting a canula before a Nurse took over and got two in at first attempt. I had another fitted later, jingle all the way.
I was fully sedated, and barely came round when wheeled to the Gastro ward.
I do remember that I kept removing my oxygen mask because it made me feel sick, so they stuck tubes up my nose. They also had someone sit next to me, and having become concerned at my breathing I was whisked off for an X-Ray to check I wasn't bleeding internally.
I knew at this point my varices had burst, leaking blood into my stomach, which led to the vomiting, but I don't remember when they told me this.
Back on the ward I was advised that I would be transferred into isolation as soon as the room was available, and it was as they started to move the bed that I was sick again. That was the last time, but necessitated another clean-up. I wore disposable mesh knickers the rest of my stay (and they really chafed) and an incontinence pad for the next three days.
When I reached my private room I had a catheter fitted and was on oxygen for the next 24 hours (I think). I had four separate drips - saline, vitamins, anti-biotics and something else I can't remember. Possible two different types of vitamin, possibly plasma. It was touch and go as to whether I had a blood transfusion due to the amount I'd lost.
During my stay I initially had hourly checks on my blood pressure and temperature. I think the catheter was in for three days - I may be wrong there. It's hard to remember the very beginning and slightly difficult to calculate as I arrived in the very dead of morning and lost a fair section of time to anaesthetic.
I know I was Nil By Mouth for over 24 hours.
This was especially hard while I was still vomiting blood. They gave me those little sponges on sticks, soaked in mouthwash. I was eventually allowed to do this for myself, and progressed onto water.
The varices were "banded" initially, but I had to have another endoscopy later in the week.
They wouldn't knock me out because of the danger to my liver. So I thrashed and retched and choked up bile, fully conscious the whole way through. It took them three attempts, and I think in the end they wished they'd listened to me and taken the risk of giving me a general rather than local. I did warn them. You can do all sorts of unnatural things to me - stick just about anything where it doesn't belong. But expecting my oesophagus to behave normally and accept things travelling in the right direction seems to be beyond my capabilities. I'm not proud of it - I'd far rather it was easy.
It took me the best part of two hours to stop crying afterwards.
I honestly rather would vomit blood until I died than go through that again. But yay! I have to in two weeks! I can only hope it's the same team and they remember and listen this time.
I also had a 30 minute sonogram - the longest I've ever had.
She wasn't as jabby as some have been, but given my throat was raw and it was 30 minutes of holding my breath then letting it out, it was a miserable experience.
I was also badly bruised, and still am, under my left breast. I showed it to Mum and she said I had worse bruising than she did after her lumpectomy.
Yes, Mum & Dad came up to see me.
It was supposed to be a surprise - they were coming up for the Victorian Fayre on Sunday.
When she told me I put the phone down and cried and cried. I'd just ruined everyone's weekend.
They had a good time, but of course it wasn't ideal.
The problem with varices is you don't know you have them.
I did - know I mean. But you can live with them for years without knowing, and a lifetime without any problems from them.
Mine just decided it was bursting time.
Because they bleed into the stomach, there is no pain, no warning (although I'd had a mild stomach-ache for a week or so, which I did mention to my Doctor, but she would not have been able to diagnose anything at that point)
You don't even taste blood. Just suddenly start bringing it up.
I was checked out by the psychiatric team, no idea if that will come to anything.
I have an appointment with my GP next week, I'm supposed to be going back in, in two weeks (no WAY am I going in the day before Christmas Eve) and seeing the Consultant in a month.
So am really just waiting around, trying to take care of myself, and hoping that this stay is the last in a long while. Because aside from the fact I have varices because of my cirrhosis, I didn't actually do anything specific to put myself in hospital this time, and yet it was the closest I've been to having something truly dangerous in my life thus far.
kee rist.
Glad you got help in time. Hope you get better soon.... and we can do those carols next year.
Good for you calling 111 when you did.
Holy shit, Sundae. I'm glad you're out now.
Shame you haven't found a way to get paid for your writing, Sundae. Exciting reading, but horrifying to think it is not fiction, and it is my friend. Yikes.
Still, I'm glad you're on the mend. :-)
Bloody hell, hon, that's an adventure and no mistake. So glad you are on the mend.
I had terrible chest pains in hospital.
They were first mistakenly diagnosed by a Nurse as heartburn, so I choked down a thimbleful of ANISEED Gaviscon (barf, barf) and it made no difference apart from making me feel even worse with the clammy flavour of it.
They couldn't give me anything other than paracetamol (tylenol) because of my liver, my low blood pressure and my codeine allergy. Needless to say two tablets four times a day barely touched the sides. It was re-diagnosed by a Consultant on ward rounds as oesophageal spasms. To start with it hurt when I spoke, when I moved, when I tried to sleep, when I ate and sometimes just randomly.
This pain was so bad I was calling out in pain, and it made me cry on plenty of occasions.
I was quite pleased to hear it wasn't heartburn, as the people on afternoon TV adverts with heartburn just made a pained face and pressed a fist against themselves. They did not hold onto the furniture and try to suppress a scream with tears running down their face.
Eventually the pain started to subside (just in time for me to have another round of banding) and it only hurt very badly when I ate or moved.
Sadly, the meals were not well synchronised with the arrival of medication. One morning I was woken with my meds at 06.45 and breakfast arrived at 09.30. By that time the over-the-counter medication had easily worn off, and my first bite of toast made me howl with pain. That was the only bite.
Mum kept telling me I should have soft pappy food, but it wasn't my throat that hurt. It was an intense stabbing, clenching pain behind the breastbone, like being simultaneously stabbed and squeezed. My first sip of water of the day - at least to start with - prompted the same symptoms.
Mealtimes were a horror for days. Quite often the painkillers came after the meal. Sometimes arriving after my barely touched plate had been removed. Quite shocking really. But I understand that I was not the only patient, and being on a gastro ward, I would not the only patient who needed medication to eat. And they wondered why the invariable answer to the question, "Have you moved your bowels today?" was "Not yet."
The Consultant recommended I should get lactulose, but that never appeared.
The right hand rarely knows what the left hand is doing being ward staff and visiting Doctors.
Still - I was thoroughly checked out. X-rays, sonograms, banding, food, drink, drugs, showers, mesh knickers canulas and all. Can hardly complain when it left me without debt.
Good God! I just came across this. I pray for your speedy recovery
Gal. Your scaring the shit out of me. After my last time in hospital.
Get better.
Back in St James's. Taken in with chest pains, but heart okay. Looks like a recent viral infection hit my liver hard. Made me yellow as a camel.
Also possible knock-on issues with my pancreas; waiting for results of yesterday's ultrasound for that.
Will write up properly when I can.
But am safe if not well
Shame my 2016 resolution to stay out of hospital only lasted until the end of February!
Actually, near two months is pretty good for a New Years resolution, congratulations. However, in the future please break lesser resolutions. ;)
Sundae keep us posted. We're pulling for you
Thanks for letting us know, and please get better soon!
I've just managed to have a quick chat with Cherry and she's asked me to post an update.
Unfortunately, the structure of the hospital militates against mobile phone calls getting through, although texts do fare better and that has been our main form of communication over the past few days.
She's making good progress and, as things stand at the moment, Friday looks promising for her release from hospital.
That should slot in nicely as there is a long arranged trip south on Saturday morning to visit her parents.
Please join me in crossing fingers that all goes well for Cherry.
Carruthers
Thanks as always, Carruthers. Here's to a speedy recovery!
Crossed fingers, toes, and eyes.
Tell her that we love and wish her a speedy recovery
PS: Where are the rats?
Wishing you a speedy recovery, Sundae!
Thanks for your replies Dwellars. I'll relay them in a text to Cherry in the morning. (It's approaching 0400 here!).
PS The rats are staying at the local pet shop which also provides 'holiday accommodation' for various species.
Thanks for your replies Dwellars. I'll relay them in a text to Cherry in the morning. (It's approaching 0400 here!).
PS The rats are staying at the local pet shop which also provides 'holiday accommodation' for various species.
Good, I worry about the rats.
Thanks for the updates C.
Good, I worry about the rats.
Spoken like a True Cheese Head.
I'm back in Otley.
Tired, irritable and not feeling an awful lot better (no doubt because I'm tired and irritable).
It took the best part of 3.5 hours to be discharged, then a call to my Doctor to check the new items on my prescription had been added and ask when I could collect it was a waste of time as there is nothing on my records yet.
Sigh.
I'll write up the experience later when I'm in a better frame of mind and not into blaming everyone and everything except myself.
I'm glad you are home. Hospitals suck.
We too are glad you are home.
Very good to hear you're home again, SundaeGirl.
The rat pack reunites. :hugnkiss:
Sorry and thanks for the updates.
The nice thing about having rats is that if somebody gives you a cat you don't immediately have to run out and buy cat food.
Get better. Getting better makes you feel better. Once you're better, you'll feel a lot better.
And then.... Don't get sick anymore. Then you have to get better again. But you'll feel worse until you do. Feeling worse makes the feeling better feel better, but it's not really worth it. Just stay fucking better all the time. It's better.
You better you better you bet.
You butter you butter your butt.
What?
Right.
Been accepted back to rehab/ therapy.
There aren't any options for residential therapy - at least none that I've been made aware of. Where I was in December 2014 was effectively a holding pen, to keep non-criminals in until they're no longer a danger to themselves or others. No therapy, classes, advice given.
Going back into the place I was in before (trying not to mention searchable names) is possible as I have a history of addiction, even though I am not attending for current addiction issues. Last time I was there, there were people who had been sober/ teetotal/ non-users for 1 year plus. But it's intensive and residential, which is marvellous. You don't travel for miles for a half hour session once a week, and there is always someone there to help if you have two-o'clock-in-the-morning-thoughts.
Added to that of course are facilities to do your own laundry, private baths and showers, three meals a day, weekly quiz nights and all that and everything.
But it's the classes, the therapy and the help that I am really in need of.
I f*cked up last time.
I did.
I saw alcohol as the only real issue, and in fact it was really only a symptom.
This time I am going to work on me. Instead of being scared of coming out, I can't wait. Instead of avoiding coming back to Otley I intend to embrace it, working on getting my flat habitable. I can't wait until I am at the point where I start volunteering - I especially want to work with horses, as they have a partnership with Hope Pastures (rehab for horses). That may never lead to paid work, but that was the wrong way to look at things before, and I won't do it again.
I don't care if I have to shovel poop and it will never pay a living wage. I will be of some use to someone (or something) somewhere.
I was officially accepted back after an official assessment today.
My admittal date is still to be arranged. Finance has to be agreed and organised (it's a medical decision, so it WILL be, but it may take time) and there has to be a vacancy. But I am so full of hope today.
There are things I need to organise. Not least the rats. Which I am deliberately not thinking about today because I don't want this to be a negative thing.
Also having post redirected, which is expensive but means at the very least I won't feel sick going back to the flat when I am allowed, fearing unexpected bills.
And I have to contact the electricity people to see if I can arrange a hiatus - I know it can be done when properties are unoccupied for reasons of health, but I hate hate hate dealing with authorities. However the alternative would be worse - coming back to a bill just when I'd got myself back on track!
I'll let y'all know when I have a date.
The usual suspects will have my new details. I have plenty of everything I need, but unless things have changed I may be out of contact for a while.
Look out for reports in the Yorkshire Evening Post (online, obvs) of enormously fat squirrels in Leeds.
This is fantastic news Sundae. I've also got hope for you! You can do this.
What splendid new, Sundae! You know we're all rooting for you at Limey Towers! Much much love and hope xxx
What a great start to your week, Sundae! You can do it! :thumb:
Nicely done, homegrrl. Tip top.
I hope this helps as much as you need Sundae. It's nice to see you heading into it with a positive attitude. Maybe it will be more effective as you are hoping. x
Dang girl. Sounds like you have things better planned than I do. Rooting for you big time!
Right.
I'll let y'all know when I have a date.
The usual suspects will have my new details. I have plenty of everything I need, but unless things have changed I may be out of contact for a while.
I excel with email. [email]elspode@gmail.com[/email].
You go, girl.
I like to see the Happy Sundae. She is so beautiful.
Right.
I'll let y'all know when I have a date.
I think you should concentrate on more serious issues first. There's plenty of time to have a social life after.
If I was going to wait to contact the Cellar until I had that kind of date, you'd never hear from me again!
Barring disasters, like me taking another fun trip to hospital, an outbreak of chicken pox at the unit (this happened last time I was due an interview) then I'll be going in on Tuesday 29 March.
It's too far away in some aspects - anxiety levels are spiking, I'm suffering from dizzying highs and nauseous lows. But on the other it's almost too close because I'm feared I won't get everything sorted in time.
Off to Leeds today to get another really brutal haircut.
I don't want to be worried about looking after my appearance to start with, as in some ways it's going to be an even bigger adjustment than before. I more used to living on my own again, even though I fail at it, and I have a better idea of what's at stake.
Had a rotten email from Mum about this. Of all the things she could choose to focus on FFS. Told me "if I went ahead with it" (the haircut!) then I wasn't to send her any photos. After letting myself get all upset, I figured my hair was mine and I could do what I wanted with it. I can live with not sending her photos of me.
By the time I come out it will be about the length it is now anyway.
So I'm off on the bus to sort out some bits & pieces.
I'll be around until Thurs, then on Saturday, but the library will be closed over Easter. So if I disappear in a pink cloud of near-baldness you'll know why.
I want to see a pic of your new do.
Hair is a sensitive item with your Mom right now. Imagine she was flat broke and you were throwing money in the trash.
Mum's always been sensitive about my appearance. She'd say things like, "Oh if you only lost some weight you could go on that quiz show, you'd do really well" or "I wish you wouldn't wear bright colours, you're too old for them" (that corker was when I was in my thirties).
But yeah, I didn't shout at her. She doesn't even know she hurt my feelings. I think she was being a cow, but she is dealing will a heck of a lot right now.
So she just gets denied photos, what a terrible punishment, eh?
Fargon, I'll take a pic when I've been in for a week or so.
Feeling vulnerable right now, so although the normal rule on here is don't comment on someone's appearance unless you have something nice to say, I'd rather not share.
Then normal service will be resumed and the Cellar will be as thick with selfies of me as it's ever been. Like a teenage boy's sheets.
I'm looking forward to the pictures you post
Sundae has asked me to post this on her behalf so that Dwellars can see the starting point, as it were.
By the time she finishes her rehab/therapy her hair should be back to normal length.
[ATTACH]55699[/ATTACH]
Sundae had just come in from the blistering sunshine that defines West Yorkshire hence the sun specs.
Shirley, you can call me what you want ;)
Think I have most things sorted now.
The person I know in Otley (note the singular!) wants me to come up to his on Monday night. But as it's the night before, I'm going to be all over the place. And it will be an early start on Tuesday, so I'd rather be alone.
He's trying to tempt me with The Walking Dead (airs on Mondays in the UK) but I'm going to miss the end of the series anyway, so it's not enough of a draw.
Poor Rick Grimes, being passed over for therapy.
I've sorta made things up with Mum.
As I say, I didn't let her know she hurt my feelings because she doesn't need my brand of hyper-sensitivity right now (or any time!)
So normal communication has resumed, which is good. I'm going in to sort my head out; the last thing I need is pointless, recent, unresolved issues. Especially over something as silly as hair.
Funnily enough, when I had myself near-scalped, a lock of my hair fell into my bag.
Still trying to decide whether sending it to her as a joke will tickle her or annoy her.
Am thinking - as Bruce said - perhaps it won't be funny because of the chemo.
Maybe I should auction it off on here.
But I'm sure there's magic which can be done with a lock of hair...
Sundae and I had quite a long chat last night and she asked me to post a few photos here.
Communications were quite restricted for the first week or so, but now things are starting to ease.
There still won't be on demand access to a PC and the Internet, but I'm sure she'll post as and when she can.
I hope that you'll forgive the somewhat sparse narrative, but the images should broadly speak for themselves.
If you have any messages for Sundae, perhaps you'd post them over the next couple of days and I'll print and surrender them to the mercies of snail mail.
[ATTACH]56000[/ATTACH]
Above and below with great smiles that augur well for the future.
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A room with a view. Taken on a somewhat misty April morning in Yorkshire and, as you can see, the trees are doing a sterling job ignoring the siren call of Spring.
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The Arran monkey. Taken into captivity on Sundae's trip to Arran in July last year.
What does it say in the first picture? The white oval that looks like a talk bubble for the cat?
Oh, and tell her Hi! :D
What does it say in the first picture? The white oval that looks like a talk bubble for the cat?
Oh, and tell her Hi! :D
[ATTACH]56006[/ATTACH]
'Santa tastes just like chicken'. :eek:
The pic was taken in a mirror, by the looks of it.
Your greeting duly passed on, Bruce. I'm sure Sundae will be pleased to hear from you. :thumb:
Thank you for the update, Carruthers. I'd been thinking of our Sundae for the last few days.
And just look at her...Hair-colored hair!!!
Hiya, Sundae! Keep on keeping on, girl!
I want you to know that I care about you. I want you to believe it.
And if you threw a stick for us, we'd surely go retrieve it.
Happy to see that Arran Monkey is helping Cherry! Love from all at Chateau Limey!
Sent by thought transference
Tell her Hi from from us.
Nice to hear from her. Thanks, Carruthers.
Hey Sundae!! Love that smile. I think this is the first time I have seen you with natural colored hair. I like it
Sundae! You look great. Much love hon, and a big beardie hug from Chops
Hi Cherry. You look good, healthy. Keep taking care of you. 'preciate it.
Glad to hear you are focusing on YOU. From here you look great! Love the cut and the smile. Sending virtual hugs.
Carruthers - Tell her I'm not complaining, but I've never gotten the letter we talked about. No biggie. I want her to know if she sent it why I haven't replied yet. Let her know she is in our prayers. I would send he a new picture of the girls, but I still can't post anything from Flickr.
Carruthers - Tell her I'm not complaining, but I've never gotten the letter we talked about. No biggie. I want her to know if she sent it why I haven't replied yet. Let her know she is in our prayers. I would send he a new picture of the girls, but I still can't post anything from Flickr.
Duly relayed by text no more than a minute ago.
I got a card in the mail from cherry a couple days ago.
She's become a lesbian vegan, and wants you all to call her Charlie from now on.
She also asked me to tell you to vote for Trump.
Actually, the general tone was positive. She's got some annoying chores, and cankles that may be toxins leaving the building, or a symptom of some other issue, but must wait until the end of the month until they do anything about it. Joked about being a beggar amputee.... They can't have their phones during waking hours, have to work in the kitchen, etc. Sounds like it will be something she will look back on fondly when she is out, and living life on the straight and narrow.
I don't remember eating a fucking legend.
:lol2:
What pretty handwriting. Jealous!!! I want a card from Cherry too.
I got a card from Cherry! She was anticipating a day out due to stubbing a toe badly and maybe breaking it. She has a super positive tone and sounds like she's doing the work that needs doing. cheers!
I did too! She didn't have much news, just talked about going to meetings. But it was good to hear from her.
I tried to wipe that speck off my monitor.
Twice.
The specks below the fox are on the card, the one to the right must be on my scanner. I've got so many specks on my monitor I didn't notice. :haha:
Dan & I got one as well. No return address though. :(
I was hoping Dan could start a pen pal thing with another hot chick across the pond.
Lovely card from her arrived today, and it gives me such hope to hear from her.
I got a card from her last week, I should have posted earlier. I'm Sorry.
Yes, since there was no return address I suppose the proper thing to do is acknowledge it here for her to read when she comes back. I, too, received a lovely card full of lots of detail. Anyone else impressed by her handwriting? I couldn't make that happen even if I spent hours on it like it was an art project.
I've kept Cherry up to date by means of text message and occasional phone calls so she does know who has received her cards.
Subsequently she managed to make a brief visit to the Cellar to read your posts so she's not entirely out of the loop.
If anyone has a message for Cherry, I'll pleased to relay it to her.
Tell her we miss her.
And to kick ass and take names.
Hello.
Brief update, some of which is to address questions Bruce asked in his letter to me.
The course involves "lessons" which fill up a timetable five days a week. These include things like Music Therapy, Anger Management, Dealing with Anxiety, Relaxation, Future Planning, Relapse Prevention etc. Homework is set, which reflects the session - so in Postive Communication it might be writing real-life examples of when you have used passive or aggressive responses and how to reframe them to make them Assertive.
Chores are from 09.00-09.30 every day and are set weekly. We work in pairs.
Everyone takes turns in Kitchen Duty in the evenings/ at weekends. Weekends are most onerous as you actually cook (although even that's not really from scratch) as well as preparing a cold meal for the evening. If you get a Saturday it means no access to places like the Post Office, banks, some shops. Given we are occupied from 09.00-17.00 Monday-Friday this can be frustrating when paying bills in cash/ getting a haircut/ going to the market etc.
All in all it's a great place. Can't say the same about the residents. But I like the staff and believe I have their respect.
Not in the kitchen today as you can tell (it's about 11.30GMT Saturday) - am in Otley library instead.
Just manhandled one of my duvets to the launderette for a service wash and am taking some bedclothes back to the Unit for washing. I start weekend Home Leave at eight weeks (a fortnight from now) so the flat has to be ready for me to sleep in.
Thanks for the kind words. I used some of the compliments I received here in the last Personal Boost homework. I won't be getting any compliments from this shower.
(actually, I'm being mean because of something that happened last night; some of them are tolerable)
Expect to see a little more of me over the next month.
Then I'll be back telling you all my tales and hopefully reporting about my wildly successful time as a volunteer.
Miss you all lots & spots.
Big love! Xxx
Sent by thought transference
Homework, chores, structure, sounds... Normal. Normal's good. Looking forward to hearing about your experience.
Sounds like a great program to me. I hope you get the max benefit from this experience. We love you, Cherry. And I believe in you!
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Hair is still hair-coloured. Skin is closer to skin-coloured. Back to Otley for a day out, I'm worried my minions won't recognise me.
Ain't no denying it, whatever has taken hold is good for you.
Sundae, you look fantastic!
Lookin' good girl. Glad for you.
Gorgeous!
Sent by thought transference
Ya look great, Sundae Girl!
I swear to god, she's aging backwards.
Sundae, you look great. It sounds like you are on track. Everything sounds fantastic. On a personal note, I truly miss you. I miss the flirts and sharing of personal thoughts/events we had years ago. BTW, my girls still ask about you.
Will someone help me get the message to Sundae?
@Big Sarge.
I'm in frequent contact with Sundae by text message and the occasional phone call.
I'll pass on your post to her by text which she should receive this evening as phones at her centre have to be switched off for much of the time so as not to interrupt the course.
Feel free to PM me if there's a longer message that you wish to pass on and I'll do the necessary.
Please let Sundae know I have received 2 cards from her. I've really enjoyed them
Please let Sundae know I have received 2 cards from her. I've really enjoyed them
Passed on by text message a few seconds ago. :thumb:
Sundae has just asked me to post this so Dwellars will know that 'I'm alive and well'.
Very well by the looks of it. :thumb:
[ATTACH]56675[/ATTACH]
So alive! So so well!! xxx
Sundae, you look great!
On your favorite bench again, I see.
Marvelous, marvelous baby
this thread is a little quiet.... any updates, Carruthers?
Please, sir, can we have some more?
I believe yesterday or today was moving day, out into the cold cruel world.
Greetings from Sundae!
I have had a couple of texts from her today, and last week, too.
She was, indeed, due to "graduate" around now but requested to stay on for about a month to give her more time to get her future plans sorted - she is very happy that this request was granted. She is in a bedsit-type arrangement where she has more independence/responsibility and is feeling very positive. I have no photos but maybe Carruthers could share some? She sends her love to us all in teh Cellar.
I have no photos but maybe Carruthers could share some?
No sooner the word, than the deed....
Here's the birthday girl herself enjoying a light lunch. ;)
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And the lunch in question...
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Birthday flowers from limey...
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Cards appropriate to the day...
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Continues...
No title needed!
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Sundae and I had a good chat a little earlier this evening and she asked if I'd pass on her thanks for everyone's kind birthday wishes.
She's doing well and, as you can see from the photos, is happy and relaxed. She's also positive about the future which is what we all want to hear.
Thanks Carruthers!
Sent by thought transference
I see my card, glad it got there OK. :thumb:
Yay!
I owe her a letter. 3 day weekend I ought to get it done.
:jig:
She's-a coming to see us. she's a coming to see us!
In August.
:jig:
ack! i can't believe i missed her birthday!!
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This just in.
Sundae sent this photo a few minutes ago and asked me to post it here.
She's graduated at the end of her rehab/therapy and is on her way south to spend a few days with her parents.
She looks splendidly well and I'm sure that you will join me in sending her every best wish for the future.
Carruthers.
Sundae, you look great! Very healthy looking.
Hi, Sundae!! So good to see you!
YAY!
sent by thought transference
She tried phoning me a couple of nights ago and I didn't see the missed call til silly o'clock when I went to bed (where phone was recharging). I wonder if she was phoning me to let me know she'd graduated.
Pink hair. That's the SundaeGirl we know and love!
:cheerldr:
Just had a lovely phone chat with Sundae:) She sounds really well.
Sundae, do you know people would kill to have those cheekbones? You look great. Keep on keeping on. :)
Woohoo! Looking mighty sexy there!
Hiya Sundae. Really nice to see you. :)
Moar medical drams.
Trust me - if you find it boring, imagine living it. I'm so weary of being ill.
Last night I had a nosebleed.
A nosebleed! It's nothing! It wasn't gushing out or anything. But it didn't stop.
So after about 2 hours I called 111. For advice. If it had been during the day I'd have nipped into Superdrug or Boots or whatever. I was NOT trying to make this into a drama.
But they ask questions. And you have to tell them the truth otherwise why bother to call.
111 operator had a clinician call me back. My history meant my symptoms got me red-flagged ("soccer" term maybe, but means danger pretty much everywhere in the Western world)
Clinician had the Out Of Hours GP call me from Leeds. Red flag again.
He called a G-D ambulance. Against my express wishes.
An ambulance for a little nosebleed? Ridiculous.
So they pitch up & turns out I have extremely high blood pressure, very low oxgen levels and my blood sugar liver is also wrong.
They asked twice if I was a smoker (no) or diabetic (no) as I obvs looked like the sort of plum who might forget these things).
Off to hospital with me...NO. I am not going to hospital. I was assertive. Told the female paramedic I'd lost more blood from trying to break in my shoes for Mum's birthday than I had from my nose.
Had an appointment with a GP today anyway. A follow-up after my discharge from hospital.
OMFG.
I still have worryingly high blood pressure and all the rest. And abdominal pain. Yeah - you're pressing on me when I need a wee.
15 minute appointment took an hour.
I left refusing (politely) to go into hospital. Like, what are they going to do? A minimum of 24 hours on SAU (assessment ward) where I don't get my meds. or fed, or even given water until a Consultant sees me. NO.
I'm fine.
Lovely little baby Doctor calling me back today to check up on me.
She looks like Lily Allen without the make-up (which is appropriate for Lily Allen but not a GP)
Oh - was in contact with my Passepartout (Carruthers) throughout)
He has a lovely pic of the loo roll I was pressing to my nose.
He may share it if you ask nicely.
I'm sorry the the grind of this. Is the blood pressure issue new?
My heart isn't great.
I have a heart murmer, which I always have to mention because otherwise anyone examining me gets excited about it. But it's not important enough to be treated - I assume, as it's on my records and I've never taken anything for it.
When I'm in hospital - which is frequently these days - the staff who come to take the observations (blood pressure, temperature oxygen) will often tell me my blood pressure is too high or too low so they'll be back again in half an hour.
Trust me, a beautiful black woman waking you up at 05.45 and saying she'll be back soon when all you want to do is sleep and you know you still have over 3 hours left for the flabby toast the NHS specialise in is not a wish-fulfillment situation.
ETA. I now want toast. But I'll bite my lip again and it will bleed and toast n blood is something even Heston Blumethal wouldn't serve.
Back from another 6 days in St James'.
First on SAU aka The Ninth Circle of Hell, promoted to Ward 46 - a variety of most circles excluding Lust really. It's a step up, but barely.
This is the stay I dodged to go to Mum's 70th. Went in with "bowed head and lowered eyes, shoulders falling down like teardrops, weakened by my soulful cries" and my levels were still off the charts. well - not literally. But in the red flag range. So I took baby Doctor's advice , went home, packed a bag - badly - and off to hospital. Left behind my bag of medications, which I had packed separately, but figured it wouldn't matter because it was only a check-up.
I said I'd travel myself, but I think she was suspicious. Turns out it was was not a car as expected, it was an ambulance. And a bone rattling one at that.
5.5 hours later I was seen by a hospital Doctor, who confidently predicted there would be men on Mars by 2020. Oh, no I mean that they would find me a spare trolley to lie on and I'd be discharged the next day.
That was Wednesday night. Came out today. Monday.
No feeding tubes, but X-ray, CT scan, blood clot fears, two different wards, 36 hours nil by mouth (with my liver?!) and a conversation three times a day about whether I'd brought my medicines in with me.
Trips to the expensive M&S concession because they couldn't sort out my protein drink - to be taken alongside my supposed 2000 a day calorie intake - but at least my canula held this time and I didn't bleed all over the nice cheese scones. Or my trousers. Thank goodness - I wore white trousers to the Doctors, what an eejit.
Remembered my phone charger and glasses, but not my talc (less of an issue when they "forget" to give you towels so you get by with a whore's wash with facewipes every day) or anything to read except a single library book. Washed my hair for the first time since Weds this morning as I got a towel and used my drinking jug of water and washed from the sink - no plug in bath and couldn't work out shower...
I have no clots. My low mood is probably due to the hospital prescribed steroids, and the fact "I came off them too soon". Which was because I wasn't given any from Wednesday until today. Anyway, steriods changed, reduced and psychiatric team involved to see if I can get back on an anti-anxiety medication which won't hurt my liver further. Like you know, the one I was taking before I came off it and tried to commit suicide in 2014.
Don't say anything sensible. I mean you can if you want of course. But even a rational person would understand and accept that although I've done this al to myself, the piecemeal approach to my problems has definitely cost the state more money than it ever saved.
If I can't get into a new place, away from everything I currently hate, I'll keep on going to hospital. And I can't bear it. But maybe that's it. I'd be a lot cheaper as a statistic than if I was properly supported and living a productive life having babies and claiming tax credits.
ETA - mobile phone fell on floor as I was trying to reach it while hooked up to drip. Bottom 1/8th screen dead, rest scrolling in bizarre fashion. All texts are random in terms of those letters on Querty keyboard and punctuation. That's the only communication I had free.
Portuguese nurse had lovely singing voice but poor English. Either through misunderstanding or spite (I hope the former) she attached my canula in the one place I asked her not to - back of my right hand. My wiping hand, my washing hand, my reaching hand, my texting hand.
We have been wondering about you. It's good to see that you are having fun. Please get better soon.
Don't say anything sensible. I mean you can if you want of course
Thank goodness --
I've done this all to myself
The disease model says otherwise. Not saying that just to be nice, I believe it to be true.
How does a hospital forget to give you towels for 5 days? That's crazy.