I wrote the following while I was in hospital. I wrote a bit so will post on separate blogs...
As I write this I am stuck on a horrible ward with my leg being infected. I have been going mad and am going mad now. I shall start from the beginning. I think I am going to have to split this. But I am writing it in word while in hospital and I will upload it once I get home.
On Wednesday evening I became quite unwell feeling sick and having a bad stomach. I also noticed that my leg smelt horrible and was oozing through the dressings. I was just putting one on top of the other and it was still seeping through. I saw Sam Wednesday night and she advised me to go back to A+E if I felt unwell. The consultant had also said that from A+E but I was putting it off thinking well I am going back on Friday so it can wait until then. However, Thursday I felt no better and thought well I am going to have to go back really. So I drove across and thought I would be a couple of hours and parked up and didn’t pay as I never do at the hospital. So went to A+E and was seen by triage straight away. Obs were taken and they were normal except my pulse which was 120bpm. So I was put in waiting room and was seen quite quickly by the nurse. I stripped off climbed on to the bed and pulled the dressings off. It was disgusting. Was horrible. I felt sick. Well I was already but it just made it worse. She looked and said she wasn’t going to do anything but get the senior doctor as I had seen a senior before.
So I waited about 1.5 hours for the doc to come. He was quite cute actually. I hate it when you get a cute doctor and 1) you self harm so they form a bad opinion of you and 2) you only have a top and knickers on. Not the best place to meet cute docs. Anyway, he looked and he looked through my notes and said that needed to look at admission as had already had treatment for it and the infection hadn’t cleared up. I suppose I neglected to tell him as part of my on-going self harm I wasn’t taking the antibiotics properly. They make me ill and I suppose I was hoping for blood poisoning and death but quickly. But no. I know… I am rather crazy.
I got quite upset my main worry being that I would have to tell my parents I was in hospital. I didn’t know what I was going to tell them. The medical student (who was also a fittie but probably too young) suggested I tell them I had a UTI and needed antibiotics through an IV. So that’s what I told them.
I had to have the stiches removed from the wounds. Yet it was too painful. So I got to have gas and air. Now to be fair I could have bared it as there were only 5 stitches that needed to come out. It was painful.Very painful. But I had gas and air last time they stitched me up a couple of times. Now I wouldn’t want to have only that in labour as you can still feel the pain. But wow. It’s like you are really pissed and everything seems so far away. You think like you are pissed and you probably act like it. I think like I am pissed when I am on it. It’s quite funny. It does still hurt but it makes you care less. No hang over and as soon as you stop breathing it after about 20 seconds it all goes. I had it taken off me in the end as she had stopped taking the stiches out and I was still puffing away. Free drugs and highs on NHS. I love the NHS!!!!!!
So bloods were taken and I was moved up to the AMU ward.
I have been there plenty of times and one of the nurses even said “hello (insert name) what have you done now”? It was in a jokey way and she was really nice to me last time I was in and it wasn’t in a condescending horrible way. She was lovely. Last time I was in after an OD I couldn't even stand up. She helped me go to the toilet and get dressed as I was so out of it. And she was so nice all the way through. Some nurses are just so rude and business like with you but she isn't. While she was admitting me a couple of weeks ago she was holding my hand and just being really nice and supportive.
In the mean time before going up to the ward I had told my parents I had a UTI and so they brought me in some clothes etc. I explained to the ward staff that I didn’t want anything discussing with anyone that any medical information wasn’t to be shared with anyone like my family as I had lied about why I was there. The HCA who booked me in asked me about my self harm and suicidal thoughts. I think he was asking out of interest but I don’t know. He asked how often I got them and I said all the time. I explained to him it wasn’t something that went away and I was always thinking about death and self harm and planning when, where and how. That most the time I could distract myself with things and they didn’t bother me but sometimes it became too much and that was when I self harm or attempted. Then he said as I was feeling the way I was they would need to get the dept. that Mike works in aka Nurseman (who I refer to him as on SF). Then they went on to tell me that I was not able to leave the ward until I have seen that dept. I kicked up a fuss saying that I knew they wouldn’t see me until I was medically fit which I didn’t know how long that would be. It could have been anything from a couple of days to unlimited like when I was back in hospital in July after the motorbike accident. I said I had seen them numerous times and I had been on the ward numerous times after self harming and attempts yet I had always shown wiling and come back after going off the ward and it had never been a problem. After a few hours I did see a Doc and he agreed I needed to be on IV antibiotics. And that I was allowed off the ward. Yay cigarette time!
So Thursday night was pretty uneventful. I was pretty ill but nothing really happened. The same on Friday. I saw a doc and was under the impression that I would be going home on the Saturday. I was told on Friday that as wasn’t a new self harm or attempt that I wouldn’t need to be seen by psych medicine (PM from now). I had actually psyched myself up for seeing them thinking about what I would say and what would happen. I was also struggling with my thoughts and distraction methods. Usually I will go out, write my blog, go on the internet, and watch TV. Anything that doesn’t require too much attention at first. I only had books and my iPod. I couldn’t really read as I needed to concentrate. And the music which usually helps was not working. I usually use music when I am doing something else like driving so I can sing really loudly etc. You can’t really do that on a ward. I don’t think it would have been appreciated. I had asked for some diazepam in the morning yet they were saying that they didn’t have any on the ward. I had been prescribed it by the doc. I love junior docs at times. At times not also…like when the F2 stitched up my leg a couple of weeks ago. But you can manipulate them in to prescribing what you want. So I said I was given Diazepam as PRN insinuating that it was something I always had at home. In reality I think I have only been given it on prescription a couple of times. Any way I was really struggling. Really wanting to SH. I left the ward to go for a cig and I was desperate. I picked up a paper clip off the floor. I tried to cut with it but it wasn’t sharp enough. I felt so angry. At myself and also at the fact that I couldn’t cut. So I actually decided I was going to have to call crisis team. I couldn’t distract myself and I knew I would end up doing something. So I got their number went off ward and tried calling. It wouldn’t connect. After all that psyching myself up and going through all the thought processes I had I knew I needed to speak to someone. After a while I went back to the ward. I had had some diazepam at about 6 but it hadn’t touched how I was feeling. It was about 12ish and I asked to speak to the nurse on the ward. I explained to her that I had tried to call crisis team as I was really struggling with the thoughts going through my head and I wasn’t able to distract myself. I said it would be really helpful to speak to someone from PM as I couldn’t speak to crisis. She came back to me about 40 minutes later saying she had found a bed for me on another ward. I think she thought as I was on an AMU ward that was busy I was being affected by that. Ok the person next to me was actually quite scary shouting at me and staring at me.
It’s weird. I work in mental health yet this woman was actually bothering me. I think it’s because I am not mentally stable at the moment and I wasn’t very well either. So at about 1am I left the AMU and was transferred to another ward.
Straight away I had a bad feeling about the ward. I don’t know what it was, it was the middle of the night but I just didn’t feel right about being moved. So that started the thoughts off even more. The nurse had left all my meds on my table. I considered just taking them all. But then I thought, “really what are 14 Mirtazapine and 28g of antibiotic going to do? Just make me sick”. So I had a better idea. The cannula! It goes straight in to the vein and keeps it open. I could bleed to death. And, it would be painless, quiet, I would just go to sleep and it would also look like an accident. I went in to the loo and tested my theory out. Sure enough it bled when removed the stopped. So I got in to bed. Turned my back to the corridor and pulled the end off. I put my iPod in. And drifted off. I felt my side get wet so I knew it was working. I started spinning also. I drifted off to sleep, or I think I passed out as I don’t think I would have been able to sleep knowing what I was doing. I had a few weird dreams. Come 6.30am I was being shaken by about 3 nurses shouting my name at me over and over again. They had come round to do tea and coffee (I’ll get to that in a bit) and had seen all the blood. I was being shouted at. I could hear them but I couldn’t quite wake up. I knew with them shouting at me that I hadn’t been successful. I could hear everything going on around me but I couldn’t wake enough. I was sort of pulled out the bed and on to the chair. They asked me why I had taken the end off which I denied. I was told to go get showered as I was covered in blood and left to it. My BP was quite low I think about 80/50. So think I lost a fair bit of blood. I think the blood congealed and stopped more coming out. So I didn’t get my way. I felt quite out of it. I went and got washed up, changed and got back in to bed and went back to sleep. I was woken again at 11ish by the nurse telling me I needed to drink something as BP was still low and I said I would but couldn’t face it. I was quite out of it. Went back to sleep and woke again at about 2ish. Nothing more was said. I was stupid really. I never thought how it would affect the other ladies on the ward. They don’t know it was on purpose. They said I gave them a scare as they said they spent ages trying to wake me and they struggled to wake me. I was still really disappointed that it didn’t work as really thought it would. It was too good to be true really. Maybe take a few aspirin next time so it doesn’t clot. Bloody hell the cogs are going now.
I thought I would be going home on Saturday but one of the nurses said she wasn’t able to get docs to come see me. So prepare myself for staying in. Saturday night was uneventful. I was told by nurse she had made referral to PM and they would come see me Sunday (today). I say uneventful. I have this thing about one of the nurses. I feel she has a massive attitude problem. I went off ward for cig and I was gone about an hour. I was talking to some people downstairs (these people will be covered in another blood) while having a cig and I didn’t really want to be on the ward and just wanted to take some time away. It annoys me.
Anyway. I came back on to the ward and I heard her really loudly say when I came back “that’s it, no one else is going off the ward now”. I thought how dare she. It is not a psychiatric ward. I am not going to do a runner. Surly I have shown that. It is an ADULT medical ward. ADULT. If I am allowed to go off during the day then what difference does it make if I want to go off at night. I am an adult. I can look after myself. It’s awful. I asked for some diazepam as I was wound up ( I know it seems like a small thing to get worked up about but as I said I am not very well so things are getting to me more than they usually would.). Before I went off the ward I said to one of the HCA’s can you ask the nurse when she does meds to get me some paracetamol, cyclazine and diazepam. She said sure she would ask. I got back and one of the ladies in my bay said the nurse has put your usual meds there if there is anything else then you need to ask. So I did. I then over heard the nurse saying “oh well, she should have been on ward when I was doing meds” and then came over in a massive huff as she got the meds out. Now with PRN I ask for it as when I need it. OK, I did ask for it before meds as I wanted it to help me sleep. But it is PRN. It’s the same with pain medication. It’s PRN. I don’t know if I am going to need it at 6pm when meds are dished out. I felt as though I had really inconvenienced her. The thing is she was just sat there gossiping when I came back. I know people say nurses do that. It really annoys me when they say that as I know nurses work really hard. But I knew she was sat there gossiping as I could hear what she was talking about. And she wasn’t doing paperwork or on a computer at the time. I know people are entitled to breaks and a couple of minutes rest but you don’t expect the attitude. I was really pissed off at her.
So Sunday. I was woken at 8ish by a nurse telling me to sit up and take meds. I asked for another diazepam. I wanted more sleep I woke up pissed off. So I went and got showered went for a cig. Came back to the ward and got back in bed. I was woken at 10 by the doctor. Yes the Doctor. So I was excited thinking “Yay, I’m going home”. He looked at my leg. And then said you are staying. And you are going back on IV’s. They had taken me off them yesterday when they took the cannula out and put me on oral. He then said he was going to refer me to plastics. The wound on my calf is still very infected and it’s not healing. Then he brought a nurse in and she said going to refer me to tissue viability. She has put the referral in but doesn’t know how long it will be before they can come see me. I think I will be in until they see me. I thought it would be tomorrow but she said could be longer as they are a busy team. I really don’t know what they will do. I am quite worried to be honest. I am worried they will want to operate to clean the infection out properly. If they do then I will have to come clean to the family about why I am really in hospital. I don’t like being here and lying to them. I have the feeling they know I am lying also. I have just said they are waiting for normal bloods and my stomach to stop being so dam pathetic and not wanting anything inside it. Although I have been able to take Imodium I have had a few problems. I hate telling lies. I lose track of what I have said and so it worries me I will get caught out.
Another nap. I wake up at about 4ish to see they have put another grave dodger next to me. She makes weird noises and is really annoying. According to the other ladies in my bay they have said at night she starts shouting. She was in a side room but has been moved back here on to my bay. I feel awful. I don’t have any patience for anyone at the moment. I feel quite bad how I am thinking about others. I just don’t have patience at all. I am not looking forward to tonight at all. The next blog details what happened next and my thoughts on hospital.
Showing posts with label nurses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nurses. Show all posts
Monday, 7 February 2011
Monday, 24 January 2011
A Weekend From Hell.
Things got bad. Really bad. Thursday night I took an overdose of nefopam and some drowsy anti-histamines. I also cut really badly. I also drank far too much alcohol having a whole bottle of Ameretto, and two bottles of wine. Somehow I ended up coming round the next morning at about 11am on the floor in the office. Locked in. Didn't have my phone on me to call anyone. Luckily there was the internet and I had to call a lock smith who came and climbed through the office window and then cracked the lock letting me be free. That cost me £70! Of course I also woke up not dead, but in a way I was glad as I planned to go out when the time came so wouldn't be my parents who found me. So I then fell asleep on the couch totally missing my appointment with Sam. I woke up and remembered the cut on my leg was horrendous. There was two of them and knew they needed stitching.
So come 5pm I take a trip to the hospital. I tell them at the hospital that I cut that day at about 2 pm as I knew they wouldn't close them if they knew if they were from the night before. I wasn't drunk when I cut. I was when I took the pills. I planned on taking the pills. I planned for a while but I drank also. I don't know if was for dutch courage or what. So I was taken straight in to a cubicle which was nice of them and the nurse was lovely. She is the nicest I have seen before. I was asked if I wanted to speak to anyone from psych medicine dept and I said if they wanted me to they would. So trousers off and on a bed so they can stitch. I was given a local anaesthetic but also gas and air as it wasn't working enough. I have decided when I have kids that there is no way I am doing it with gas and air. It doesn't bloody work! Give me all the drugs you can. So one cut was stitched up and then they had to get the consultant in for the big one. While I was waiting for the consultant, Mike (who is the nurse man I have seen before) comes in. He says he knows I have an appointment with the Dr on Monday (I wonder how he knows this as I only booked the appointment a couple of days before and it's a different department). He sits and chats to me for a bit and tells me how it is getting out of hand yadda yadda yadda and I agree. I know it is. I know it's out of hand. Anyway, after talking to him for a bit he goes off and comes back saying he will get me some Diazepam to help with the agitation etc. After 5 hours down at A+E and the Consultant stitching my thigh I am allowed home.
Saturday -
I had arranged to go out with my friend Saturday evening but really couldn't be bothered. However, I didn't want to let her down. I was feeling like shit as I had wanted to end it all Thursday night and it didn't work. I really don't know how I got locked in the office or why I even went in there. I was feeling knackered and rough still. However we did go out. We started chatting and after one drink we decided between us that neither of us wanted to go out and we were going to go home get a drink and have a chat at home. So we did. She was supposed to stay at mine but as she has not been getting on with her husband recently she decided she was going to go home. Well I persuaded her to wanting the house to my self as I wanted to cut etc. So as soon as she left I got the rest of the alcohol took it upstairs and went to town cutting my leg again. I have tried to go over old scars so I don't end up with more scars so I went over an old scar on my leg. From what I then remember I took a load of the dihydrocodeine and also some paracetamol, diclofenac and what ever else I could get my hands on. I can't really remember much else a part from coming round in A+E. I was told I had been brought in as had been found with a ligature round my neck. I looked at my phone and at 3am I had called a taxi. Don't have a clue where it took me. All I remember was being in the resus area of A+E and they had put a glucose drip up as my blood sugar was low.
Sunday -
I was taken to the ward where a nurse helped me get dressed, when I left I grabbed a bag that had clothes in it from when I was at my friends the other week. So I was quite lucky I had a change of clothes. She helped me get dressed as I couldn't even stand up. I then slept for about 5 hours. I was moved to a different area on the ward and was told someone from Psych Medicine would be coming to see me. I fell asleep again for a few hours and woke up to Mike standing there. Saying that it was getting out of hand.
We then went to another room and had a scary chat. He said we should be looking at admission. I begged, pleaded and nearly started crying. He said things couldn't continue the way there were or I would be looking at involuntary admission. Basically being put under section 2. I said I knew that it was getting out of hand etc. He said he was going to make a phone call to the doctor about it and see what he said. So I start panicking and go get back on the hospital bed and start crying. Luckily the doc he spoke to said wouldn't be for the best if I was put on a psych ward but if things continued that is the way they were going.
After a while I spoke to Mike again when he had done my notes asking to speak to him again. I asked him did he mean that if I self harmed again I would be sectioned. I said I knew that it would happen again and that even though I was there I was planning on when I could next do it. He said no it didn't automatically mean that but he knew I hadn't been honest with people as of taking the OD on Thursday and not telling anyone. Even when I was at the hospital on Friday and threw up all over the place I was asked if I had taken anything and I denyed it. I explained to him that I found it really hard to be honest and open knowing what position of power he was in and that my worst fear is ending up in a psych ward. He said he understood but how is anyone able to help if I can't be honest about the way I am feeling and what is going through my head. Also, if I was feeling the way I am once I have made up my mind about something then I am stubborn, I will do it and I won't tell anyone if it means I am not going to be able to do it. I said to him that I hadn't been honest and there was a whole lot of stuff I hadn't told him as I was worried about peoples perceptions of me. I told him that I know when I am bad as I get the smell come back. This is when there is this smell that no one else can smell, it's the same each time but no one else smells it. I told him about hearing voices occasionally and also seeing things that aren't there. I said it really scares me. He didn't seem shocked by this and kept a neutral expression and said when people are in despair it's not uncommon to have those things happen.
He said he was worried about me and especially the blood letting. He said I had not told him before. I thought I had as I don't really see it as a big deal as it's not going to get infected and I don't need treatment for it. He said it was concerning. I didn't tell him I had ordered a load of hypodermic needles off the internet. Or a scalpel either.
I had asked someone to look at my leg as I noticed the stitches had popped out of both wounds. A Doc came and said they needed re-stitching. 10 hours later someone came to do it. At first he said he wouldn't be able to as had been open too long. He was horrible. He was accusing me of removing my own stitches from it as wouldn't just pop open. I said either they did or they did in A+E. In the end he re-stitched one of them but he left the other one with just a dressing on. So I have a huge hold in my leg. I have not had them as painful as this before when I have cut. I can't weight bear on my leg that they are in. It was awful on Saturday then got a bit better, so I think they popped. I think they may have again as although still really really hurts it is not as bad. I was told to rest and keep it elevated but I haven't been able to. So my own fault really. He was really horrible though and being in hospital those last few hours was horrible as I was just waiting around. Although I did over hear some good news while I was there. There is a nurse in the A+E who I can't stand. Actually not even sure she is a nurse as think I heard her say band 3. Anyway, I overheard that she had got a new job in London. So horrible nurse is leaving. I can't stand the cow. She talks to me like crap and has no compassion at all.
Monday -
So today I had to go see the Psychiatrist. Mike had called him in advance and said what had happened and Mike had arranged crisis team to be there also. I didn't like the psychiatrist really and really didn't like the woman from crisis team. I didn't like Mike at first though, but my opinions are slowly changing. He was practical and to the point. Which is good.I suppose. I was told by the PDoc that I need to go back and see him in a week so see how things are and crisis gave me their number so I can call them when I need to. I can't see the point. I don't know what they can do. As I have said when I make up my mind to cut I know I will. There is no talking me down. So in all honesty I don't think they can help. I don't know what can really. I am still feeling suicidal and am looking in to ways of making it look like an accident. I really don't want to carry on feeling this way. I can't see what anyone else can do for me. I don't have people I can confide in really and if I did there is nothing they can do.
I don't want to be in hospital but I do think it may be the best place for me. Maybe at first things will get worse. There is no way I am going in though. No way at all. If it came down to it I would make sure I killed myself before even getting there and would do all I could to not get there. But what else does it leave?
So come 5pm I take a trip to the hospital. I tell them at the hospital that I cut that day at about 2 pm as I knew they wouldn't close them if they knew if they were from the night before. I wasn't drunk when I cut. I was when I took the pills. I planned on taking the pills. I planned for a while but I drank also. I don't know if was for dutch courage or what. So I was taken straight in to a cubicle which was nice of them and the nurse was lovely. She is the nicest I have seen before. I was asked if I wanted to speak to anyone from psych medicine dept and I said if they wanted me to they would. So trousers off and on a bed so they can stitch. I was given a local anaesthetic but also gas and air as it wasn't working enough. I have decided when I have kids that there is no way I am doing it with gas and air. It doesn't bloody work! Give me all the drugs you can. So one cut was stitched up and then they had to get the consultant in for the big one. While I was waiting for the consultant, Mike (who is the nurse man I have seen before) comes in. He says he knows I have an appointment with the Dr on Monday (I wonder how he knows this as I only booked the appointment a couple of days before and it's a different department). He sits and chats to me for a bit and tells me how it is getting out of hand yadda yadda yadda and I agree. I know it is. I know it's out of hand. Anyway, after talking to him for a bit he goes off and comes back saying he will get me some Diazepam to help with the agitation etc. After 5 hours down at A+E and the Consultant stitching my thigh I am allowed home.
Saturday -
I had arranged to go out with my friend Saturday evening but really couldn't be bothered. However, I didn't want to let her down. I was feeling like shit as I had wanted to end it all Thursday night and it didn't work. I really don't know how I got locked in the office or why I even went in there. I was feeling knackered and rough still. However we did go out. We started chatting and after one drink we decided between us that neither of us wanted to go out and we were going to go home get a drink and have a chat at home. So we did. She was supposed to stay at mine but as she has not been getting on with her husband recently she decided she was going to go home. Well I persuaded her to wanting the house to my self as I wanted to cut etc. So as soon as she left I got the rest of the alcohol took it upstairs and went to town cutting my leg again. I have tried to go over old scars so I don't end up with more scars so I went over an old scar on my leg. From what I then remember I took a load of the dihydrocodeine and also some paracetamol, diclofenac and what ever else I could get my hands on. I can't really remember much else a part from coming round in A+E. I was told I had been brought in as had been found with a ligature round my neck. I looked at my phone and at 3am I had called a taxi. Don't have a clue where it took me. All I remember was being in the resus area of A+E and they had put a glucose drip up as my blood sugar was low.
Sunday -
I was taken to the ward where a nurse helped me get dressed, when I left I grabbed a bag that had clothes in it from when I was at my friends the other week. So I was quite lucky I had a change of clothes. She helped me get dressed as I couldn't even stand up. I then slept for about 5 hours. I was moved to a different area on the ward and was told someone from Psych Medicine would be coming to see me. I fell asleep again for a few hours and woke up to Mike standing there. Saying that it was getting out of hand.
We then went to another room and had a scary chat. He said we should be looking at admission. I begged, pleaded and nearly started crying. He said things couldn't continue the way there were or I would be looking at involuntary admission. Basically being put under section 2. I said I knew that it was getting out of hand etc. He said he was going to make a phone call to the doctor about it and see what he said. So I start panicking and go get back on the hospital bed and start crying. Luckily the doc he spoke to said wouldn't be for the best if I was put on a psych ward but if things continued that is the way they were going.
After a while I spoke to Mike again when he had done my notes asking to speak to him again. I asked him did he mean that if I self harmed again I would be sectioned. I said I knew that it would happen again and that even though I was there I was planning on when I could next do it. He said no it didn't automatically mean that but he knew I hadn't been honest with people as of taking the OD on Thursday and not telling anyone. Even when I was at the hospital on Friday and threw up all over the place I was asked if I had taken anything and I denyed it. I explained to him that I found it really hard to be honest and open knowing what position of power he was in and that my worst fear is ending up in a psych ward. He said he understood but how is anyone able to help if I can't be honest about the way I am feeling and what is going through my head. Also, if I was feeling the way I am once I have made up my mind about something then I am stubborn, I will do it and I won't tell anyone if it means I am not going to be able to do it. I said to him that I hadn't been honest and there was a whole lot of stuff I hadn't told him as I was worried about peoples perceptions of me. I told him that I know when I am bad as I get the smell come back. This is when there is this smell that no one else can smell, it's the same each time but no one else smells it. I told him about hearing voices occasionally and also seeing things that aren't there. I said it really scares me. He didn't seem shocked by this and kept a neutral expression and said when people are in despair it's not uncommon to have those things happen.
He said he was worried about me and especially the blood letting. He said I had not told him before. I thought I had as I don't really see it as a big deal as it's not going to get infected and I don't need treatment for it. He said it was concerning. I didn't tell him I had ordered a load of hypodermic needles off the internet. Or a scalpel either.
I had asked someone to look at my leg as I noticed the stitches had popped out of both wounds. A Doc came and said they needed re-stitching. 10 hours later someone came to do it. At first he said he wouldn't be able to as had been open too long. He was horrible. He was accusing me of removing my own stitches from it as wouldn't just pop open. I said either they did or they did in A+E. In the end he re-stitched one of them but he left the other one with just a dressing on. So I have a huge hold in my leg. I have not had them as painful as this before when I have cut. I can't weight bear on my leg that they are in. It was awful on Saturday then got a bit better, so I think they popped. I think they may have again as although still really really hurts it is not as bad. I was told to rest and keep it elevated but I haven't been able to. So my own fault really. He was really horrible though and being in hospital those last few hours was horrible as I was just waiting around. Although I did over hear some good news while I was there. There is a nurse in the A+E who I can't stand. Actually not even sure she is a nurse as think I heard her say band 3. Anyway, I overheard that she had got a new job in London. So horrible nurse is leaving. I can't stand the cow. She talks to me like crap and has no compassion at all.
Monday -
So today I had to go see the Psychiatrist. Mike had called him in advance and said what had happened and Mike had arranged crisis team to be there also. I didn't like the psychiatrist really and really didn't like the woman from crisis team. I didn't like Mike at first though, but my opinions are slowly changing. He was practical and to the point. Which is good.I suppose. I was told by the PDoc that I need to go back and see him in a week so see how things are and crisis gave me their number so I can call them when I need to. I can't see the point. I don't know what they can do. As I have said when I make up my mind to cut I know I will. There is no talking me down. So in all honesty I don't think they can help. I don't know what can really. I am still feeling suicidal and am looking in to ways of making it look like an accident. I really don't want to carry on feeling this way. I can't see what anyone else can do for me. I don't have people I can confide in really and if I did there is nothing they can do.
I don't want to be in hospital but I do think it may be the best place for me. Maybe at first things will get worse. There is no way I am going in though. No way at all. If it came down to it I would make sure I killed myself before even getting there and would do all I could to not get there. But what else does it leave?
Tuesday, 7 December 2010
Attention Seeking!
Dave says he is going to kill himself. Every night he writes how he can't handle life and there is no other way out. Dave has children, and a wife but it seems as though they don't feel or understand his pain. Every night for the past week Dave has said he has had enough and he has taken an overdose of something. Does Dave not know that is not the way out? Sorry, I know it sounds heartless but to me this is just Dave's way of getting attention. He goes on and on about how much he wants out yet uses methods that will not work. I don't know Dave that well. I know he is hurting and there are obviously issues. The way he writes screams personality disorder. The neediness, the constant wanting.
I know, me of all people should be supportive. However, there is only so many times you can say to people get help, what you are feeling is wrong. But this person doesn't listen, he doesn't do anything other than say I'm going to kill my self I've had enough. If someone is that serious then just do it! Don't keep writing about it and grasping out for the attention. I find it quite annoying how people pander to it. These people do not make it any better. It reassures the person if they behave in that way then if they do the same again they will get the same response. I've done it. I've been there and taken overdoses and have written about it while doing it. Have waited for peoples replies to my thread.
I know I sound heartless. It probably is. I have been on the other side where I have felt so suicidal I have done things to try and kill myself. Mainly overdoses. I know now that that is not the way to do it. It will just make you sick and is painful and drawn out. Someone will usually figure out what is wrong with you before anything happens and you will get treatment. I read a lot of blogs; mainly medical ones. I have a fascination with medicine. There was one blog that really caught my eye it was medic999 I follow him so check him out. He wrote about a nurse from down south who od'd on paracetamol, went to a hotel and waited a couple of days. She went to a hotel outside her area as she knew that if she was in her area her collegues would be the ones who had to try and save her, and more than likely fail. She was in for a long and painful death. She was probably past the stage where you could get a liver transplant. That's another question that I am unsure of. If someone tries to kill themselves by way of overdose and the only way to save them is a liver transplant...should they get one? I mean. there are people on the waiting list for transplants that need them, they through no fault of their own need that transplant so they don't die. Yet someone can jump infront of them in the queue who tried to kill themselves. They don't value their life and they are taking the chance of life away from someone who really wants it. I know the person who took the overdose would have to consent to surgery and if they wanted to die then they would not consent. But still. It's weird for me to take this stance. I mean, I self harm, I have taken overdoses. I have been and still am quite suicidal.
I have even gone as far as telling a friend to take an overdose. But wait, before you judge let me explain why and the situation. My friend is a neurotic, needy person. She was with this guy for a couple of years. She was always coming to me with some problem or the other and to be honest she was treating him like shit! She would not let him be his own person and wanted to mould him in to what she wanted. She was really awful to him and I felt sorry for him. On numerous occasions I had said to her you are being out of order and if you don't do something about it you will lose him! But she didn't listen. So he finally broke up with her. I actually felt like congratulating him for standing on his own two feet for a change and freeing his balls from her vice like grasp.
Anyway, the break up hit her hard. I was there for her as you do as a friend. Went round, made her tea, listened to her, spoke to her in the middle of the night when we was upset and never said anything bad. But then it started getting that she was relying on me far too much, that I couldn't live my own life. She got to the stage where she was going on about it all the time and it was wearing me down. I tried to take a back seat by not answering her calls but she would call on the home number and my parents would answer etc. In the end she was going on and on about how she didn't feel life was worth living. I said to her don't be stupid. You are starting at uni in September, you have got a lot going on for you. And, if I can get through a 9 year break up (on the surface to other people I look as though I am coping) then you can.
She then was saying how she couldn't live without him and she was considering taking her medication for night terrors. I could tell by the way she was saying it there was no seriousness in it. I asked her how many pills she had and she said about 10. So I told her to take them! It shocked her in to seriously thinking about things and the way she was. I knew that they would not do any harm other than make her sleep for a bit. And, I thought she needed a mental health assessment so I thought it would be a good way of making sure she got one! I knew the pills wouldn't do her any harm, but she didn't. Also, in her telling me I thought that if she really wanted to die she wouldn't say she was going to as I had keys to her house and I would have gone round there and I would have got help etc. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I put too much of my own feelings in to it thinking how I am when I have been suicidal or wanting to self harm etc. I don't tell anyone! But my method worked anyway. It made her sit back and look at things.
My other friends thought it was quite ammusing anyway!
So, what I suppose I am talking about her, is how can I take this view point when I myself have been one of the "oh another self harmer" and "oh, you again". I suppose when I am self harming I don't think about the long term or even the immediate future of having to go to A+E to get stitched up. I think about how good it feels to be making the cut. Nothing else matters at the time. I even got corrected by a counsellor I went to see last week. I was talking about self harm and I said I have worked with self harmers and I am a self harmer. She said "no, you have worked with people who self harm and you are a person who self harms". You can expect to find the labelling and negative stereotyping from people who don't do it, but when you do it your self, what's that all about?
If you look at the list of blogs that I follow you can see I have a bit of a fascination with medicine and hospitals. My friend even said to me not long ago that I was weird as I like hospitals. I wouldn't go that far. But growing up I wanted to be a doctor. Then reality hit and I realised you actually needed to put more than average effort in and get more than average grades to study medicine. I gave up my dream at about 14 when I realised I was Miss Average! I think also I am scared of failure and never like to give things all my effort incase I still get average grades. I know they are grossly inaccurate but I love and always have loved programmes such as Casualty, Holby City, ER and so on. I know the facts are not right on them and not even being medically trained I get annoyed when the defib pads aren't in the right place, CPR is not being carried out deep enough, that they defib when it's not a shockable rhythm, and when they leave bra's etc on when doing defibs. But I love the programmes still. I also watch the more real life ones like helicopter hero's, the real A+E. My parents take the piss as I only seem to watch medical based TV.
I think maybe I have chosen the wrong career. I know doing the Social Worker training in a few years I will not be able to afford to go back to the bottom rung of the ladder and taking a massive pay cut. Don't get me wrong, I do think I will be a good SW. I never let my opinions of someone show, I listen to people, I don't let other peoples views of someone cloud my own judgement. I will make my own judgement. I think I am quite a good judge of character also.
I know that TV glamifies positions like Doctors, paramedics and nurses. In reading these peoples blogs they talk about a nice job or a good job being one that involves trauma, not picking people up off the floor who have had a few too many. I know that if I was one I would spend most of my day dealing with drunk people etc, but it doesn't stop me having a slight niggling feeling that I maybe should have re-done a couple of A-Levels and gone in to medicine!
Oh and if anyone does read this and has got this far can you leave me a comment to let me know what you think of my viewpoint. It would be interesting to see if other people share the same views as me...or if I am mad!
I know, me of all people should be supportive. However, there is only so many times you can say to people get help, what you are feeling is wrong. But this person doesn't listen, he doesn't do anything other than say I'm going to kill my self I've had enough. If someone is that serious then just do it! Don't keep writing about it and grasping out for the attention. I find it quite annoying how people pander to it. These people do not make it any better. It reassures the person if they behave in that way then if they do the same again they will get the same response. I've done it. I've been there and taken overdoses and have written about it while doing it. Have waited for peoples replies to my thread.
I know I sound heartless. It probably is. I have been on the other side where I have felt so suicidal I have done things to try and kill myself. Mainly overdoses. I know now that that is not the way to do it. It will just make you sick and is painful and drawn out. Someone will usually figure out what is wrong with you before anything happens and you will get treatment. I read a lot of blogs; mainly medical ones. I have a fascination with medicine. There was one blog that really caught my eye it was medic999 I follow him so check him out. He wrote about a nurse from down south who od'd on paracetamol, went to a hotel and waited a couple of days. She went to a hotel outside her area as she knew that if she was in her area her collegues would be the ones who had to try and save her, and more than likely fail. She was in for a long and painful death. She was probably past the stage where you could get a liver transplant. That's another question that I am unsure of. If someone tries to kill themselves by way of overdose and the only way to save them is a liver transplant...should they get one? I mean. there are people on the waiting list for transplants that need them, they through no fault of their own need that transplant so they don't die. Yet someone can jump infront of them in the queue who tried to kill themselves. They don't value their life and they are taking the chance of life away from someone who really wants it. I know the person who took the overdose would have to consent to surgery and if they wanted to die then they would not consent. But still. It's weird for me to take this stance. I mean, I self harm, I have taken overdoses. I have been and still am quite suicidal.
I have even gone as far as telling a friend to take an overdose. But wait, before you judge let me explain why and the situation. My friend is a neurotic, needy person. She was with this guy for a couple of years. She was always coming to me with some problem or the other and to be honest she was treating him like shit! She would not let him be his own person and wanted to mould him in to what she wanted. She was really awful to him and I felt sorry for him. On numerous occasions I had said to her you are being out of order and if you don't do something about it you will lose him! But she didn't listen. So he finally broke up with her. I actually felt like congratulating him for standing on his own two feet for a change and freeing his balls from her vice like grasp.
Anyway, the break up hit her hard. I was there for her as you do as a friend. Went round, made her tea, listened to her, spoke to her in the middle of the night when we was upset and never said anything bad. But then it started getting that she was relying on me far too much, that I couldn't live my own life. She got to the stage where she was going on about it all the time and it was wearing me down. I tried to take a back seat by not answering her calls but she would call on the home number and my parents would answer etc. In the end she was going on and on about how she didn't feel life was worth living. I said to her don't be stupid. You are starting at uni in September, you have got a lot going on for you. And, if I can get through a 9 year break up (on the surface to other people I look as though I am coping) then you can.
She then was saying how she couldn't live without him and she was considering taking her medication for night terrors. I could tell by the way she was saying it there was no seriousness in it. I asked her how many pills she had and she said about 10. So I told her to take them! It shocked her in to seriously thinking about things and the way she was. I knew that they would not do any harm other than make her sleep for a bit. And, I thought she needed a mental health assessment so I thought it would be a good way of making sure she got one! I knew the pills wouldn't do her any harm, but she didn't. Also, in her telling me I thought that if she really wanted to die she wouldn't say she was going to as I had keys to her house and I would have gone round there and I would have got help etc. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I put too much of my own feelings in to it thinking how I am when I have been suicidal or wanting to self harm etc. I don't tell anyone! But my method worked anyway. It made her sit back and look at things.
My other friends thought it was quite ammusing anyway!
So, what I suppose I am talking about her, is how can I take this view point when I myself have been one of the "oh another self harmer" and "oh, you again". I suppose when I am self harming I don't think about the long term or even the immediate future of having to go to A+E to get stitched up. I think about how good it feels to be making the cut. Nothing else matters at the time. I even got corrected by a counsellor I went to see last week. I was talking about self harm and I said I have worked with self harmers and I am a self harmer. She said "no, you have worked with people who self harm and you are a person who self harms". You can expect to find the labelling and negative stereotyping from people who don't do it, but when you do it your self, what's that all about?
If you look at the list of blogs that I follow you can see I have a bit of a fascination with medicine and hospitals. My friend even said to me not long ago that I was weird as I like hospitals. I wouldn't go that far. But growing up I wanted to be a doctor. Then reality hit and I realised you actually needed to put more than average effort in and get more than average grades to study medicine. I gave up my dream at about 14 when I realised I was Miss Average! I think also I am scared of failure and never like to give things all my effort incase I still get average grades. I know they are grossly inaccurate but I love and always have loved programmes such as Casualty, Holby City, ER and so on. I know the facts are not right on them and not even being medically trained I get annoyed when the defib pads aren't in the right place, CPR is not being carried out deep enough, that they defib when it's not a shockable rhythm, and when they leave bra's etc on when doing defibs. But I love the programmes still. I also watch the more real life ones like helicopter hero's, the real A+E. My parents take the piss as I only seem to watch medical based TV.
I think maybe I have chosen the wrong career. I know doing the Social Worker training in a few years I will not be able to afford to go back to the bottom rung of the ladder and taking a massive pay cut. Don't get me wrong, I do think I will be a good SW. I never let my opinions of someone show, I listen to people, I don't let other peoples views of someone cloud my own judgement. I will make my own judgement. I think I am quite a good judge of character also.
I know that TV glamifies positions like Doctors, paramedics and nurses. In reading these peoples blogs they talk about a nice job or a good job being one that involves trauma, not picking people up off the floor who have had a few too many. I know that if I was one I would spend most of my day dealing with drunk people etc, but it doesn't stop me having a slight niggling feeling that I maybe should have re-done a couple of A-Levels and gone in to medicine!
Oh and if anyone does read this and has got this far can you leave me a comment to let me know what you think of my viewpoint. It would be interesting to see if other people share the same views as me...or if I am mad!
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