I just read over my last post, wow, what a
mess! Ever heard of a paragraph?! I think it was indicative of my state of mind
at the time though.
I’ve been here a week today, one night of
which was spent in ICU after apologising to a nurse in advance for the
likeliness of her finding my body. I’m grateful to my doctor for not leaving me
there any longer than one night; it’s pretty awful. The nature of it means
there has to be little privacy, but it could be greatly improved by a fresh
coat of paint and something to do other than watch TV or colour in mandalas. My
inner bitch came out to play and I was quite unkind to the nurses / captors.
My doctor has decided to give me a round of
ECT. I’m a bit unclear on how he reached the decision, but I think it’s because
we needed fast improvement given how bent on killing myself I was. I say was
because I’ve told him I won’t try it in hospital, it would be difficult and if
I survive I’d be banned from the hospital and probably dumped as his patient.
I’ve written in the past about how much ECT
(Electroconvulsive Therapy) has affected my memory, but I was mistaken. A
couple of months ago I had a neuropsychology assessment – a 5-hour test on
memory among other things. It was determined that my memory issues are due to
severe depression, which can impair recollection and creation of memories. The
type of memories I’ve lost don’t correlate with ECT memory loss and my
depression was rated at the top of the scale they used.
Although I know about my memory I am still
a little anxious about losing more. I have no fear of the procedure, the first
of which is tomorrow morning, just the memory side of things. I think this
session will take me into the 30s for ECT. It’s so high because I’ve had
maintenance sessions where you come in once a week as an outpatient. I probably
need to do that again but my Dad is dead and he played a role in me being able
to come. Mum would drop me off before work (I had to be here early) and then
later Dad would pick me up; he worked for himself, so he had the freedom to do
that. Now it would mean Mum missing half a day of work once a week, and I can’t
catch a taxi home because you have to be accompanied after the treatment.
Anyway, I won’t be living with her.
I’ve been introduced to a friend of L’s who
is in here at the moment. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, still in the
getting-to-know-you phase, but there’s at least someone here I can say hello to
(and raid hard drives!)
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