I'm so over this!

I'm still in the hospital. Allow me to bitch. 

I've been in here for 8 days, and it feels like months. No movement. Lying in one spot on a bed too small for me, no excercise or proper stretching (my caregivers have done their best when visiting but it's difficult in this bed), no relief from my itches, no decent sleep since that last Tuesday night, pain pain pain and suffering. Restless legs. Charlie horses and cramps in my feet and legs.  I'm so tired. Everything hurts. I have terrible veins. I've given blood at least 10 times. Always ends in tears. I'm tired of being poked and prodded. Blood thinner needles that are so bloody painful I cried for almost an hour from the pain the other night. The nurses see me suffering and I know it's hard on them, too. HOT. ITCHY. Constipated for a week followed by explosive diarrhea all day. Try having THAT flat on your back in bed. A doctor said to me "just looking at you here, you got the short end of the stick in the health department. I'm so sorry". Except all my tests come back perfect, even the ultrasound they gave my belly, so physically medically there is nothing that can be done. Thalia had a long conversation with the psychiatrist Thursday (after I'd talked to her a long time) and told her, point blank, "she won't try again because she physically CAN'T do anything. But I don't blame her one bit for trying, she has NO independence - she suffers all day - and please call CBI (the home care agency) and stress that it is imperative to her mental health that she gets some consistency with caregivers, and that they know how to speak English and know what they're doing. And stop complaining about her size and do their job." Etc. etc. 

How they think it's helping me to be here is so beyond me. I understand they have their psychiatric protocols and shit but come ON. I just want something and someone that may help me cope and sleep! I WANT TO GET HOME to my cats and have a shower. A shower! It's been 11 days!

Wifi here is non-existent and I've totally overused my dad's monthly MB on his hub. Without my visitors to charge my lifelines (iPad, iPod touch) I don't know what I'd do!

The love and support coming at me from all angles has been incredible. Y'all rock. I've had lots of caring visitors which is so nice and helpful. A decent cup of coffee and a bagel helps (food here is a lot better than the care facility, but still, it's hospital food). 

Okay enough bitching for now...

It Didn't FUCKING Work.

I didn't say "goodbye cruel world" because I don't believe the world to be cruel. There are amazing people and things to do and things to see and dreams to make come true. If you're able to enjoy it, please do that. There are so many simple things you take for granted. 

I, however, am not one of those people anymore. I led a great life while I was still able to. As my abilities lessened, I still made the best of it. But that was impossible to do after September 21, 2012. So I knew, as things just kept going downhill, and the pain and itches and sleeplessness got worse, that I'd be ending it soon. With no regrets. Except credit card debt. But I don't regret what I did/bought to get it. 

So. Seriously. If I can take at LEAST 60 sleeping pills and at LEAST 15-20 Trazodone and not die, WTF does that mean?!?! I wifi printed out my letter to family and friends, typed where to find it on my iPod touch which I lay face up next to me, then took everything. I didn't hold the bottles and have second thoughts. I just said "God, if you exist, it's YOUR turn to take care of me now!" And swallowed them. With a handful of ibuprofen muscle relaxants. 

And I fell asleep. I woke up very groggy the next morning, thinking "oh my god, no way" not "oh thank god, I'm still alive". I was shocked and actually mad, but clearly heard the lady from the Agency walking in, calling me. I couldn't/wouldn't respond and when she saw me, she freaked out and slapped me while calling 911. 

I was in and out of it most of the time, but I remember transferring to the stretcher, arriving at the hospital, afraid I'd get my stomach pumped but just getting a quick hose in only my mouth (if they did more, I'm glad that's blocked out), my mom squeezing my hand, being transferred into this bed. I remember all of my immediate family and two caregivers being here. I remember being told I was being treated for a bladder infection and pneumonia (which apparently I'd had for days, but I take so many supplements and never get sick, that the obvious signs weren't there).

That night I slept like a ROCK.. My mom and stepdad were here for a lot of it, chatting and laughing with the guy in the next bed. And I slept through it all. The nurse took my vitals and everything. I may never sleep again, now that they've removed those pills from my list, but at least I had that. 

The next day I remember well. My caregiver Christina came first, then my brother, then my friend Shawna, then my dad, then mom and Bob, then my caregiver Thalia, then my dad again. Everyone was, of course, very upset. But no one blamed me. No one called me stupid or selfish. They all understood why I tried, but they were "selfishly glad it didn't work". My doctor said I seemed in fine spirits, and is treating me for the infections, but will hand my care over to psychiatry as is his duty. I'll probably see a psych tomorrow. Oh, did I mention I have no voice? I've been using my iPad Notes to communicate with people. It does seem to be improving, but I figure I'm days away from speaking above a whisper. So I wrote the psych a letter, which I showed to my doctor, and he said it was "basically in line with what you told me, just neater and professional and all that. I encourage you to keep writing".

Maybe that's why. But I tell you, I did look for a sign telling me not to do it, in case I actually was making a wrong decision. But there wasn't one. I seriously saw more things and discussions about death and suicide than I expected. Even a tweet from Jim Carrey said "Heaven is always ready and waiting for you, wherever you are". Not that it was directed at me for that reason, but it was one of many signs that it was okay. And even though it didn't work, and I'm obviously a complete and total anomaly, at least I know the important people in my life understand why I might try again. Exactly when or how, I have NO CLUE. Pills were my way out! I'm afraid to do anything that will hurt and since nothing works on me like it supposed to (from surgeries to medicines to skin care, you name it) who knows?!?

And now my family and Thalia have all my passwords and PIN numbers to EVERYTHING!

This Is The End

I know I have really sucked at updating this and telling my stories and all the plans I made for this blog. And now, it really is too late. 

Let me try and explain my "life" to you. I am bedridden. Which wouldn't be the end, if I was comfortable at ALL.  I can't move myself. Caregivers come and go throughout the day. I'm always in pain, I spasm every time I try to move anything, I wear a Foley catheter that always hurts like hell. I watch TV all day because it's all I can do. I only have use of my left hand, and I'm right handed. It's getting harder and harder to breathe.  Yes, I twitter and Facebook and do some bookkeeping on my laptop and am always playing Candy Crush or Farm Heroes. I have two cats that I adore and are the only reason I am still alive to write this. But do you REALLY think that is reason to live? When you suffer and struggle and live in pain 24/7, when the agency meant to send you people to shower you and stretch out your legs do nothing but add stress and frustration to your life and complain about how heavy you are? I fucking hate it. I hate it all. I have not been the same since those paramedics fucked me up on September 21, 2012 and it's just getting worse. And worse and more hellish and worse. I wouldn't want my absolute worst enemy to even have to spend one hour trapped like this. And oh, the itchiness. In all these places I can't reach.

I COULD GO ON AND ON AND ON! Why I'm still alive, I don't know. I take tons of supplements and use my Chi machine. I'm sure that's why, but if I stopped those first I'm afraid the pain and suffering would be so much worse before I went. 

I'm really sick and tired of it all. I'm sorry to those that will miss me, but I have missed myself for way longer. I am so relieved that I don't need to struggle through another day!!!

Bless anyone reading this. Love to all. Whatever you believe, I believe I am walking again. Maybe even dancing.