Friday, 4 April 2014

They Need The Crash Bag! "SHIT!"

[note: this post contains discussion of suicidal ideation]

I think I've more then proven the rapid changes that are a part of my daily life; that I can wake up full of positivity and excitement for my future and end the day in tears wishing I weren't conscious.
Today was sort of like that...
I was really happy it's finally Friday and I was excited to go to the local supermarket and get some treats for the weekend, I was sick last night and I still felt a little poorly but I couldn't indulge in it or I knew I'd not be allowed my leave. I went up to Coffee Morning and the smell of the food and coffee turned my stomach so I went to the toilet. I remember vomiting and then the next thing I knew was the door was banging into my arm and I heard someone shout "shit! Get the crash trolley!"
I'm not too sure what happened after that because I kept my eyes shut but I remember feeling myself being dragged out of the tiny bathroom and then as I started to feel a bit more awake and strong, I was helped into the lift with my Nurse, one of the OT staff and our Ward Manager. I felt so strange though and I just remember everyone laughing at how my bedroom is the furthest away and then I had an oxygen mask on. I'd fainted, again. There was so much noise and I remember closing my eyes and hoping that if I wished hard enough, I would pass out again. It reminded me a little of when I'd be IM'd (mental health lingo for when you're given an injection; usually to sedate you when you're 'kicking off') and as soon as I'd wake up I'd wish that I hadn't. I'd wish there were some way that I could be unconscious whilst still able to appreciate the break from life.

Anyway, the staff called an ambulance and I was taken to A&E for a few tests and once again, I spent the entire time in the medical Hospital wishing that I were back in this one. Luckily, it didn't take many tests for the Doctor to decide my faints were from a combination of the vomiting and that I hadn't passed much urine in the last 24 hours. My only reluctance for coming back to the ward was that I knew I'd be on 5minute obs because recently that has become the routine when I've been hospitalised for physical reasons. I've always managed to convince the staff to take me off them sooner than they've wanted to though, but this time I knew not to even bother; I figured I'd put them through a lot today and the least I could do would be to let them feel more comfortable and reassured by checking on me every five minutes.
The Doctor came to see me when I was back and I ended up crying as I told her how I'd been lying in the middle of the corridor hearing the staff saying my pulse was slow and my sats (blood oxygen levels) were low and I was just thinking 'would it be so bad if something was seriously wrong?' I explained how I felt that if someone has had as much help and medication etc. as I have, and they still have suicidal moments then perhaps that says a lot. She's asked me to write down some things over the weekend to give her a better understanding of my thought processes with regards to suicidal ideation etc.
Then I went and sat with the Ward Manager and thanked her. I told her that I've been in a lot of hospitals (both medical and psychiatric) and met a lot of staff but I've never known a Hospital or staff like here. They've gone to such lengths to support me, protect me (usually from myself) and save me and it's genuinely heart-warming but also a little upsetting because it leaves me wondering what I've done to deserve such amazing help.
I'm feeling quite emotional now because I'm so physically and mentally drained. I'm fed up but I'm convincing myself that it is through tiredness and I've decided to just use the DBT skill; self-soothe, all weekend and make the most of the fact there's no groups by being totally lazy and sleeping and eating as much as I like, as well as doing some writing for the Doctor.
Happy Friday!