Sunday, April 26, 2015

Emergency Room, Insurgency Doom, and Vera

Trigger/Content Warning (TW/CW): this blog post contains mentions of blood, harming, rape, and descriptions of ER patients with life-threatening injuries. Reader discretion is advised.

Forgive me in advance; I am composing this with about 79% brain power.

I wanted to write about my experience at Yom Ha'atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day) in a separate post, but I'm going to compile what I can here.

As you may be aware, I experienced amenorrhea last month for the first time. Hey, it was nice not to have a visit from Cousin Olga for once. However, I started to experience premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) symptoms that are usually taken care of by birth control pills. So that, and my depression (and not my anxiety, odd) was overriding the antidepressant pills, told me something was wrong.

It started last Saturday. Got the 1401 all fixed up nice and went for my first bike ride. By the time I got home, I felt a very overwhelming sadness. Last time, I checked, exercise is not supposed to make you sad.

Then Tuesday came and sucked so hard. I put the call out to both my therapist and psychiatrist. We yapped and decided that for the time being 1) don't isolate and 2) if the depression gets worse, go to the ER.

So Thursday, I spend $10 and go to the Yom Ha'atzmaut celebration at a nearby temple. And as soon as I walk in, I'm immediately taken back mentally to where I used to attend the many Greek festivals with "Dingbat" (the second ex-fiancé who also raped me and who my parents, to this day, continue to have a relationship with).

Ahh yes, instant PTSD. Woooooo.

Israeli flag colors? Blue and white. So is Greece's flag.

Israeli music? Very Mediterranean with a dash of Middle Eastern, accompanied with circular group dancing. Same thing with the Hellenes.

Israeli food? Since strict kosher dietary laws were observed for this exclusive shindig I attended, it was very fresh with vegetables, hummus, baba ghanouj, pita, baklava, and falafel. Very similar to Grecian cuisine, except yes to lamb, beef, and chicken.

Israeli dress code? This is where it differentiates. Israelis and local Jews dress hella more modestly than the Hellenes. +1 to the Jews.

Somehow, not only did I manage to relax by the time I got some food into my system, I talked to a few folks and enjoyed the Idan Raichel Project concert at the end of the night.

By the time I got home? Depression came in stronger than before. What kind of asschicken shitfuckery is this?!

Friday, it was getting worse. Barely made it to the psychiatry appointment, where the doctor said: if it geys worse, go to the ER.

And last night was the final straw. When you take your antidepressant pills, and then 30 minutes later you're fighting off urges to harm, it's time to check in.

I roll up to the ER around 1:40am local time this morning. There weren't that many people there, so I was hoping to be seen a lot sooner.

Then some top priority cases rolled in: a severe car accident where folks were seriously injured and an individual was shot and wounded.

So by the time I finally got a room, or bay, it was 5:30am. My eyes were bloodshot, my nerves were frayed, and my patience was running on fumes. But, I kept my shit together as the nurses and techs poked and prodded me.

Note to self: do not lock the elbow on the arm I allow the tech to collect a blood sample. Holy Shaker Heights that hurt like a sumbitch.

By 7:30am, I got the news from the ER doctor. To paraphrase:

"There's nothing in any of the lab work that calls for an admission. It looks chronic, so it's best to see your ob/gyn on Monday. We're sorry you had to wait this long. If the depression worsens, call mobile crisis or come back to the ER if you feel like harming."

And this is why we can't have nice things.

So yeah, not a happy camper. I'm just going to rest up until tomorrow, when I see the ob/gyn. Until then, hibernation mode activated.

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