This is terrifying to me. Putting aside the issue of crimethink, I was stuck in a hospital (and later nursing home) for a number of weeks because I required 24/7 palliative care. Between the pain itself and the incredible amount of Dilaudid they had to keep circulating through my system even as I slept, I was completely out of my goddamned mind. I couldn’t make my own medical decisions because much of the time I was delirious, and even when I seemed alert, I had very little grasp on what was happening to me. (I refused food for a full two weeks, all the while complaining that the nurses were starving me.)
My short term memory was shot (I ended up being blessed with permanent amnesia), and I was an absolute fucking bitch, screaming all sorts of abusive things at every female who came in contact with me. (Yes, just the women, apparently.)
I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I’m normally the world’s most charismatic patient, but between the pain and the drugs and the trauma (both physical and emotional), I was an absolute hellion to the poor people at the hospital. (From what I understand, the nursing home staff deserved me.)
I didn’t have any mental health issue to help account for my behavior, and it wasn’t until I was readmitted (a few weeks after my release) that they realized the extent to which my “medically-induced psychosis” had influenced my behavior. (One of the palliative care nurses confided in me that she’d assumed I was just a bitch.)
So yeah, the idea of being abandoned to that kind of suffering and ultimately left to die of shock both terrifies and angers me.
All this talk about Russian bots
is seriously making me paranoid.
I don’t know who I am anymore!
I don’t know WHAT I am anymore!
Is ‘Russian’ a gender or a sexuality?
That… doesn’t really answer my question.
I’m here; I’m alive. Been back at my parents’ house for the past ten days or so, and I haven’t really bothered charging my cell. Whatever time I’m not spending with Ev is largely occupied by BBC America: Orphan Black, Doctor Who, and of course Star Trek TNG. (The upside of being here is that there is cable.)
Doing home PT and looking forward to trying crutches next week. Had the staples taken out on Wednesday (all 55 of them), and the surgeon says everything looks great.
As for my memory of the second hospitalization, I’d say it’s spotty, but mostly intact. I remember becoming aware of the fact that I missed out on an entire 24-hour period (I think it was a Thursday) and at one point waking up not knowing who I was or why I was in the hospital (which was scary) Dilaudid is some nasty shit. At least I wasn’t acting like a total madwoman the second time around. (In other words, I was nice to people.)
About ten more weeks until I can put weight on my new leg! June cannot arrive soon enough.
It’s been reported as a rare side effect of Delaudid by around 2.5% of users. The higher the dosage, the more complete the amnesia.
The more I hear about the way I was during those three weeks, the more alarmed I become. It’s like my body was inhabited by a completely different person. To anyone who had contact with me during this period: please accept my apologies for anything awful I may have said and realize that I was COMPLETELY out of my mind.
Been out for a full week now, recovering at my parents’ house. I have almost total amnesia of the three weeks I spent in the hospital, which is very disturbing to me. Not sure if it was the drugs or my brain just trying to protect me or both, but it’s like trying to recall the details of an old dream that I’d previously described to someone else. A memory of a memory of a dream, so to speak. What little I do know could more easily be converted into an itemized list than an actual visual memories.
Everything seems different now. Everything is strange. Foods I previously liked do not taste the same; I look in the mirror an see a stranger’s angular face. Even the scent of my own body is alien to me; it seems sterile and foreign, like the environment in which I was being kept. Not sure if this is a side effect of the anesthesia or the delaudid or what.
Much thanks to everyone who’s stuck by me and visited, called, sent care packages, etc. I’m very lucky to have such wonderful friends/family. I’m greatly looking forward to the 18th, when the reconstruction of my leg — with metal and cadaver bone, my mom’s been telling me — can finally be completed.