One Thing Too Many

Something is very wrong and I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know how to BE right, is more accurate. My brain seems to be done. Completely overwhelmed. I’ve no idea why. Maybe it’s because I was so happy with my 3am discovery (see previous post) that I gave up on sleep. Maybe it’s because the new drug I am on is PURE EVIL IN IV FORM and has made me feel like death BUT ISN’T DOING WHAT WE NEED IT TO. Maybe it’s because a doctor walked in this morning and told me that tomorrow (instead of today as I had been told) one of his colleagues is going to slice me open as casually as if we were discussing the fact that this hospital room has no windows, and nobody has appeared to explain what is going to happen in any way shape or form (I have to have a plan. It’s my body, my life, and right now I feel like I’m the only one left in the dark. Not being in control at all scares me). Maybe it’s because I was already completely overwhelmed. Maybe it’s because I got worse overnight. 

(Note: the standard of this post is shockingly awful. I am trying to put words to things that don’t even make sense to me and that make me so ashamed of myself as a human that I have no intention of reading through it after it has been written. I’m irritatingly weak and pathetically beaten, and you’ll have to excuse that. But I want to be real. As a society we often romanticise illness with fictional stories that tug at heart strings, but it also has an ugly side which unfortunately I am about to mention a lot)

My brain is no longer thinking, it’s reacting. I’ve hit this wall, this huge great mental barrier, and rather than climbing it or scaling it I’ve curled up in a crying little heap at the bottom. I’m too exhausted to fight with my own mind any more, and so today it called the shots. I seem to be refusing all IV things that I am not currently hooked up to (there are three on this drip stand, and four other things prescribed which I just cannot handle being given). I’m not doing it to be awkward, and not even because I think it’s something I should do, it just happens because for some reason when someone walks in the room with the next IV I now completely freak out and tears well and I just cannot. It’s one thing too many. I’m so overwhelmed that every single new thing is just too much today. My brain reacts to being so overwhelmed by… curling up in a ball and deciding it’d rather just feel like death. Or face death. No more waiting. It’s cruel to drag it all out. I don’t know how to do this any more. 

A (lovely) dietician came to see me this afternoon because being intubated has messed my throat up to the point that I still can’t swallow anything without choking. She wanted to put me on a puréed diet and told me I needed to stop and appreciate that I’ve been doing all the right things and my throat is at fault, not me. My friend sat there while we had this chat and I just watched reality cloud this happy mental place I’d been lost in. I’d been in this little bubble – I had a video from the stranger who happens to have a brain capable of making music that saved my mind (apparently the video was his idea), I had the company of my friend from the Bastille gig all the way from Manchester… so the awfulness had been so far away. And then just like that it had me. With a new pacemaker and a puréed diet I suddenly felt like an 80 year old. I remembered where I was. I stopped feeling like a normal 21 year old human. I remembered how I felt emotionally. I remembered the entire situation and it hit me like a train. So did the fear, and what I can only describe as a desperate helplessness (nothing we do is working, we’ve thrown some nasty drugs at the situation and it’s still deteriorating). My voice cracked, the tears welled. My nurse just said “Bastille! Play the video!” So I played the dietician both videos I have and I don’t think she was interested (although she had heard of Bastille) but it helped because I couldn’t cry for a few minutes after that. I was furious at myself for being such a pathetic idiot. When she left, the tears fell. 

Soon afterwards, a doctor walked into the room to take bloods (to check the nasty new medication wasn’t causing kidney failure or messing up my liver or making my muscles break down and poison my blood – as it is known to do as some of its “less common” side effects). I looked up, and off my brain ran. Tears immediately gathered again, my voice broke. I didn’t have the energy to say no, or the confidence. I rolled up my sleeve, both of us knowing that getting blood from me is a near impossible challenge that usually requires an ultrasound machine and an anaesthetist… She put her tray of equipment down on the bed… I saw all the blood bottles and needles ready to go (she’d brought a few because she knew she’d have to have many attempts – the vein my PICC line is in is so small they can’t take blood) … and I was just completely overwhelmed. My mind crumbled. I just stared at my arm and sank inside. The doctor said she didn’t have to do it then, and asked if I wanted to wait. In reply this tiny voice that sounded kind of like mine said,

“Can you come back later please? I’m really sorry, I just can’t. I don’t know why. I’m so sorry.” She was totally calm and very understanding about it. I’m so hard to bleed that my “daily” bloods are taken like… once a week. So it doesn’t even happen often. I’d thought I could do it. I had tried to swallow how overwhelmed I am right now and offered her my arm but I just couldn’t. After that I was embarassed. I was ashamed. I felt pathetic and ungrateful. I apologised profusely, and then withdrew to somewhere in my brain that made my eyes brim with tears as I lay on the bed (by that point I was too unwell to leave it). 

I have no idea why, but every single thing is just too much right now. Every time a member of staff even walks into the room I find myself holding in tears and my voice breaks as I try to speak. I haven’t seen my consultant since Sunday. I have no clear plan, just – sit, wait, slice tomorrow (Thursday), sit, wait, hope. And I have nothing left to give to my thoughts or feelings. Maybe I’ve cried it all out. 

Staff keep telling me that this is understandable, that I’m doing better than a lot of others would in the same circumstances and that I’m coping so well. They tell me I can’t see that because I’m.. me. When I apologise for crying at them and argue that I don’t need to be here (knowing how many people had cardiac arrests on this ward today alone), they tell me I don’t appreciate how serious the situation is, because I’ve gone from feeling so extremely unwell with my heart before the surgery that this still seems like nothing to me… But it isn’t ok or justifiable, is it? It’s ungrateful and ridiculous and really really not a good idea (brain, please take note). I just have no idea how to deal with this, no idea. I ask for help and just get told that given the situation my reaction is normal and human and ok. 

But how can it be ok when my brain is here like, “Right ok so I don’t know how to deal with this any more so let’s go into denial and refuse to switch IVs every few hours so it doesn’t feel like we’re in a hospital… And then let’s decide whether we’re going to just run away into the night or ask for a self discharge form…”(???)

How can it be ok if when the nurses explain that y’know… the grim reaper may gain a new customer if I did that, my brain is all “BUT WHAT IS THE POINT?! NONE OF THIS IS WORKING! It isn’t working and I’m terrified of everything getting worse and killing me so naturally let’s just wander down that route with open arms because hey at least then we aren’t out of control and in a crisis, just in a crisis.”(???)

Honestly, nothing is improving my physical health situation and now it actually seems to be deteriorating. I’m so scared it won’t stop in time to prevent the worst case scenario. I’m also scared by the fact that my brain can no longer face… anything remotely to do with hospitals… whilst I am an inpatient… in a hospital… relying upon some IV pumps 24/7 to keep me alive (luckily the most important things were connected BEFORE my brain shut down and so I’m still getting them 24/7).

Not even sure why I shared this, but hey. 

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4 thoughts on “One Thing Too Many

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