R., who I met during last hospital stay, has been calling me almost relentlessly since I WAS DISCHARGED WAY TOO EARLY!!! Ahem. Sorry about that.  It’s still a sore spot.  Anyway, I have been avoiding the phone.  Too depressed, too tired, too sick…  I feel bad about not picking up, I really do but…?

I did try to return his calls yesterday but I kept getting a busy signal.  He is deaf if you didn’t read about him when I wrote about my hospitalization, so he’s trying to get used to working the telephone and dealing with the operator assisted calls.  I’ve never called someone who is deaf.  It’s kind of interesting.  Everyone is all hooked up and the operator types away what I am saying and then he can read it on some sort of screen, I guess? However, he is almost blind so I have to speak very slowly.  I’m curious to see how it works and maybe I can help him out with it.

Tomorrow, in fact! J. and I are going to see him.

So, what does this have to do with the title of my post? Well, J. has actually convinced me to go cycling.  I think I went out on my bike a grand, two times last year.  Gee, maybe I’ll beat that fantastic record and make it three this year!

My bike needs a tune up of course–everyone should get theirs tuned up annually, regardless.  Like a physical with your doctor? J. can do it.  I swear, is there nothing that man can not fix? Mine is basically brand new so no real work needed.  Although, I think some funky stuff with my derailleurs.  Things don’t seem to be moving so smoothly in that department.  Also, some basic things to attach, a lock I never bothered to deal with, lights…but I can’t seem to find my Cat Eye™!

I had everything together, all my accessories in a bag but it’s gone.  Maybe I chucked it as it would not fit my handle bars and couldn’t be adjusted.  Maybe it was broken.  But how’s this for PA being the utter, redonculous spaz that she is! I was having a total freak out since I couldn’t find my full-fingered gloves.  I found them today.  Guess where they were? On a counter that I walk past every day to leave my flat!!!

*PA smacks forehead*

I didn’t want to lose them as they have these neato, little, reflective patches on the knuckles! Soooo cool.  I was also busy showing J. my gear yesterday and I have it all laid out for tomorrow (i.e. clothing.)  I’ll wear my summer gloves, I guess–although bring the longs in case it gets cooler.  Definitely my long, riding pants for “PA The Human Ice Cube.”  Plus, I don’t think the weather’s going to be that warm.

So, we’ll toot around for a bit and then maybe even ride up to see R.

Oh, and if you want to see PA in just a bit of her cycling gear, head over to Gabriel…’s pad at …salted lithium. Keep scrolling and I am on his right sidebar with a link to my blog. Also, if you’re curious about what the hell that “thing” is on my face, it’s a “Smog Mask.” I wear it due to my allergies, air quality etc…  Actually, I love it as most people don’t know what the hell it is.  They look at me like I’m a freak or some kind of “Bandit on a Bike” that is ready to break into someone’s house to steal…what? Pocket change? What could I carry “inconspicuously” on my bike???

I love all the rest of my gear too (plus in the pic, you can see the cool, reflect-y gloves!) I spent hundreds of dollars on the clothes and a stand-up pump but it’s all uber-high quality.  However, you’ve gotta love the combination of being Bipolar and ADD: massive spending sprees and then no motivation to use what you buy. *rolls eyes*

No one should really be surprised here.  I’m not.  Unless playing with tiny Laptops that look more like children’s toys can induce…a seizure! Or two, really.  Actually, a Laptop could induce a seizure–a photic one.  Gee…and my eyes completely went.  Good, god…don’t tell me photic seizures are the next to add to my Epilepsy roster!

Anyway, rapid eye blinking then maybe some eye rolling then all vision gone.  Blackness.  As above, this happened twice.  I’m not sure for how long and then the “Inter-ictal” period? How long in between the two? I’ve had these types before.  Once with a Complex Partial and once where I deemed it a Simple Partial as I did not lose consciousness completely.  I could still register sensory input at least via sound.  When you have a Complex Partial, you’re gone! You might look like you’re “awake” but sorry–consciousness out the window!

I vaguely remember with the last one I was repeating words.  So, me repeating words…that’s a bit of a conundrum as it’s definitely Complex Partial behaviour but if I could hear myself doing it–I had some consciousness preserved.  Simple Partial. Or…Complex Partial and I was just coming out of it when I could hear myself…

I need to buy a stopwatch for these things.  Time is a huge factor in distinguishing seizure types–especially these ones for me as I can basically catch them when they are starting.  Sometimes.

Maybe it was Psychogenic? Although, Psychogenics almost always present as a Complex Partial.  Plus the fact that people with Epilepsy can have Psychogenic Seizures too! W00t!

Or, maybe it was the Asperger’s regarding the words! Maybe I was doing some Palilalia! No, really. Who the hell knows? I don’t think that is something necessarily to be crossed off the list.  There is some definite interest in the comorbidity of Epilepsy and Asperger’s and the Spectrum–just no “hard numbers” yet.  I was even “waving” my hands back and forth during one Complex Partial Seizure that could look like your good ol’ classic, Autistic stim! I was also repeating myself but more in phrases than words.  And of course, I have no memory of it.  This is just what I was told.

However, last night–words alone. *PA shakes head*

Another thing, too.  I’m either sick or a Post-ictal Fever? I had written about this before so it’s always good fun when you’re trying to research something and your own blog shows up on Google’s second page.  I did find this, however:

Rossetti AO, Tosi C, Despland PA, Staedler C.

Servizio Cantonale di Neurologia, Ospedale Regionale di Lugano, Lausanne, Switzerland. andrea.rossetti@chuv.ch

Although fever may induce seizures, especially in children, its occurrence following epileptic spells has been rarely described, except from generalized convulsive status epilepticus. We present two patients suffering from focal seizures accompanied by episodes of post-ictal fever, and review similar reports in the literature of the last 40 years. Temperature changes following non-convulsive seizures might be induced by gene upregulation occurring in the hypothalamus, the nucleus tractus solitarius, or in other brain regions, producing a local inflammatory response. Direct propagation of electrical discharges seems less consistent with the timing of development of this symptom. Heterogeneity of reported clinical features argues against the assumption of a definite localizing or lateralizing value for post-ictal fever.

PMID: 17437623 [PubMed - indexed for MEDLINE]

Or…I could just be getting sick as I have a bit of a cough.  Still, I think that’s a nice little abstract to toss into my post.  And speaking of “post,” between sick or not, I am post-ictally feeling like crap.  Oh, well.  C’est la vie.  I’m used to that, as well.  I shouldn’t complain too much? I haven’t had any seizure behaviour in quite a while now.

Okay, time for PA to rest some more.  Bye folks.

Holy crap is this thing small! It’s about 12 inches wide? I just loaded Firefox up for him and told him to ditch Internet Exploder! All I’ll have to do is clear his history after I log off!

Man, it’s so small that even wee PA can hardly type on it! How does this guy do it???

He’s a loverly Irish boy.  And again, fairly big.  Not BIG but a strappin’ lad.  I can’t imagine his large hands typing away here.  Not to mention the touchpad is severely screwed!

Unless I’m missing something, you can mouse around fine but…to click, there are two “bars” that you can barely see (stylish design?) I mean, it took me a while to figure out how to nav and click.  And I’m still making typos all over.

So, there are two wee bars to click? Well, one at least as I used on the left.  That gets you moving along fine.  There’s something that looks similar on the right? Same?

EDIT: Just tried right. Must be a right click with shortcut? *shrug*

For anyone seriously, techie interested, this is an Acer ASPIRE ONE…or something.  Fuck, me.  The touchpad and mouse clicking is driving me (more) mental.

Everything is beyond too small.  If you want efficiency? Forget it! Not to mention what he told me he me paid! I won’t tell you! You could get a decent (larger!) Laptop for the same price!

Well, enough foolin’ around.  I did write a proper post but I ran out of battery so was going to do when I got home.  It’s long so I can’t do it on this silly thing and it is getting late!

I just logged on and checked my stats.  People, whether regulars or passers by are still coming for reads, looking in, seeing if I’m writing…alive! *rolls eyes*

So, thank you.

Maybe a post later.

Me gots me ideas but me brains a bit scattered summat.

Yea’…give ‘er a bit.

I need help.  No, I need some serious, professional help.  I wish I could just run into Merlin #2’s arms right now, crying like a little child but he’s away until July 09.  I need to try to get an appt. with my GP.  I don’t know how quickly I could sob my way into her loving arms as well.

I have been deliberately staying away from my blog (other than a quick check for any comments so as not to be rude.)  Writing about the hospital stay was easy as I had already done it all while I was there–granted, it still brought back such “happy memories.”  Still, apart from that blast last night/early morning, I haven’t seen much point in blogging.  Or anything, really.

I had mentioned spending one of those “can not move from the bed depression” days.  That was last Thursday.  Then a little more than 24 hours later I am pissed off completely (not at all like me?!) at such things I could not even mention here! What? Well, I think I know what.  I’m probably triggery as all hell, now? I’m pretty, bloody fragile?

Now, I am back to the bowels of the building of depression.  Although, not caring or having the energy to get out.  I don’t think I’m cycling but I’ll have to keep watch, I guess.  I don’t even care about that and you all know how hyper-vigilant PA is about monitoring her mental health!

So, that is one reason I decided to stop blogging…for a bit? Who wants to listen to the same drivel from a semi-suicidal, PA! Semi-suicidal? How to explain that one.  Not that I’m going to just throw myself under a train tomorrow but let’s just say when it gets this bad, the mind does start to wander…

Reason number two? I’m such a mess, despite the above, writing anything else? “Sane Face Blogging?” Or even just trying to “deviate” from my mental state? I have one prior post that I had made up before I went into hospital but I don’t even care about that.  I am spending most of my days nearly paralytic mentally and physically.

I don’t care about anything.  There you go.  Depression in its true essence and all its glory.

So, taking my own advice? Stop deluding yourself, PA, into thinking that “everything’s fine” and “you can handle it.”  Just move along and get back into the swing of things, just like that! *PA snaps fingers*

PA is always telling people that when they need help, go and get it.  Get it as soon as possible! I suck so much at therapy and all of that but I’m in a real hole.  I can’t get out of it without professional assistance.

If I had the resilience I’ve had in the past at times and maybe if circumstances were different–I wouldn’t even be writing this post right now.

This is not the time for me to write this post. Oh, no. I’m a goddamn, fucking wreck. I spent just about all of yesterday in bed unable to move, completely depressed…yes, you know it…immobile.

But wait a minute.  The earth tilted rather a bit too far on its axis–in the wrong direction.

I’m angry.  What? PA never gets angry! She suppresses everything! Any form of anger is directed within.

Well, I’m feeling pretty angry now but again, I’m not going to write about it as it will no doubt be misguided, misinterpreted…totally all shot out in wrong directions.

But at least I’m actually feeling angry? I can’t even remember the last time I felt angry at all.  Ever.  Well, maybe? Not like this, though.  Huh.

That’s a real thinker.

Signed,
Angry (and now frustrated)
PA

NOTE: All links to this series may be found at the end of these posts.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Is there a difference between “not being able to talk” and “not wanting to talk?” Is it the same thing for an Aspie or anyone else on the Spectrum? I know I’ve had a feeling deep down, way deep down inside when I know I just cannot.  However, this morning what I felt was weaker.  Like it was somehow softer or muted.

Well, boy did I fucking get non-verbal later! The nurse and the Social Worker came to get me and I grabbed my notebook and pen.  I began to write: “Asperger’s Non-Verbal.”  Before I could even finish, the Social Worker said straight out: “PA! I am not writing back and forth!”

I grabbed my notebook in fierce defiance and wrote in even larger letters:

YOU CAN NOT MAKE AN ASPIE TALK!

She repeated this “verbally.”  Clearly, this Social Worker has no concept of the Autistic Spectrum.  I don’t know about the nurse as she seemed to follow suit as…  The Social Worker kept trying to “reassure” me that I could talk.

“PA! You can talk! PA! You can talk!” However, her “reassurance” was more like some sort of command as if I was being punished or scolded like a bad dog who had done nothing wrong–by a highly irresponsible pet owner.

I felt my blood start to boil.  If I wasn’t “able to talk,” well hell! You want to see me, then? You want me to try and talk???

My throat seemed to almost close completely, I started bawling and sobbing all over, I was stuttering and shaking, I could barely get anything comprehensible out of my mouth.  OMG! I even started to flap my hands back and forth as a stim!!! I have never done that!!! I am bawling again even as I write this.

They let me go after I was falling apart all over the place but not before the Social Worker told me there was a box of tissues on the table in front of me.  Oh, piss off you stupid, fucking cow! I’m not retarded!!! I CAN see!!!

I went back to my room and curled up in a tiny, foetal ball on my bed still crying like mad.  I had totally covered my eyes with everything to somehow…?…I don’t know.  It was just an “urge” I had.  Just a feeling of: GO AWAY!!! The nurse brought me my Valium/Diazepam.  I sat up and wrote: “Dr.?” on my notepad.  She just said, “Yes, later.”

Now, I’m sorry.  Is it me here or is that not a bit traumatizing for someone on the Spectrum? Not to mention, I already had the biggest meltdown of my life only 24 hours prior! Or maybe this one is now my biggest meltdown?

EDIT: On the date of publishing this, during my conversation with P., he said the Social Worker basically pushed me over the edge and went way too far.  I’ve been too out of it and trying to get it together to ponder it in greater depth.  He said I should file a complaint.  Maybe review with Merlin #2?

QUEL SURPRISE!

I’m being discharged today! After stroking my ego and blowing smoke up my ass…fuck, me.  My inpatient Psychiatrist actually said that I am the most intelligent and articulate and blah, blah, blah… patient he’s known…  However, they don’t really deal with Asperger’s and I would do better with outpatient therapy.  This is a “Crisis Unit.”  Bye, bye, PA! Boy, does my moniker ever suit me now, huh?

Patient.Anonymous.

I tried to mention at least something about my comorbidities but that floated off into the ether.

So, I can be a smart, fucking Aspie but I can’t be in “crisis” at the same time.  What the bloody hell does that mean?!?!

I wasn’t sure if I could be verbal when I saw the him as I wasn’t earlier with the Social Worker, so I wrote up this while waiting as I was so pissed off:

I am writing this now in anticipation that I may be verbal when I speak to you. Earlier, I was not due to my Asperger’s Diagnosis. This can happen obviously with everyone on the Spectrum. I was quite disappointed with the fact that no one (the Social Worker in particular) was willing to assist in communication with me by writing. She kept insisting I speak and I wrote that you can not force or make someone do that.  I found it made me more upset even though I did try but I de-escalated in my mental state because of it as a result.  I am very disappointed by this.

You have probably read about my meltdown during my pass.  It was the worst ever.  Although the meeting today has left me crying a lot and it takes a lot to make me cry.  I am scared of how you people will treat me because of my illnesses.  This is a hospital for psychiatric care, yes?

I don’t know if I’m getting worse now.  Very upset.  Thank you for reading.

Fucktards.

Does that not sounds like someone that needs help? I haven’t even been here for a week! I don’t know what to do. *PA crying* Well, at least Merlin #2 loves me, specializes in both child and adult Psych so I should probably book an appt. with him.  Maybe my GP, too.  She’s a sweetheart.

I’m scared.  Back out into the world! No choice, though.  Just sitting here waiting, too.  J. has my keys so he has to come here at least to give them to me.  I’m so fucking rattled that I’m sure if he has the time, he’ll hang out with me.

Fucktards.

R. has been in and out of treatment today as I only saw him briefly on a stretcher, not in his wheelchair, not in his room, anywhere…  It’s now almost lunch and I hope he’s alright.  We’ll never get a chance to say goodbye personally! *PA crying* He was so sweet and we had so much fun at times.  He told me he wrote me a huge letter while I was on pass yesterday but I felt like crap and just went to bed.  He said he would give it to me today but…?

I wrote him a goodbye note *PA crying again* and walked into his room.  I didn’t know where to put it.  Then I found the perfect place.  I had picked up a couple of pine cones outside while wheeling him around and given them to him.  They were now placed in a plastic container with a damp towel to keep them safe and protected.  I put it inside the container.  Oh god, I don’t even want to think of him reading that note!

…just before I left, I saw R.  I was crying all over but I wrote on his notepad what happened.  At first, he was shocked and so sorry.  I wrote that I was too.  He told me to wait so he could get the letter he wrote me.  Oh, the tears! We exchanged telephone numbers too.  But the worst? The last image I saw as I walked out of that godforsaken place?

Lunchtime.  R.  No tray.  His head on the table.  Crying.  *PA crying*

Bloody hell! I can’t even bring myself to read his letter! Some time later! But that last image of him; the last way I saw him.  It’s now been imprinted, seared, burned into my brain forever.  And it hurts so much.

CODA: This week, R. was released and called me.  He’s still trying to learn how to use his telephone for the Deaf/Hearing Impaired but until then, we can use Operator Assisted Calling.  He doesn’t live far from me ironically, so I can visit him.  So, a tiny bit of happiness to end this horror show.

I still haven’t read his letter yet, however.

Hospitalization #7 – I – Getting Well

Hospitalization #7 – Part II – Uh Oh…PAs In Trouble…

Hospitalization #7 – Part III – One Friend Met?

Hospitalization #7 – Part IV – Cranky, Cranky PA!

Hospitalization #7 – Part V – The Post That Was Never Written

NOTE: All links to this series may be found at the end of these posts.

This was only written up in point form as I was in terrible shape.  I thought I could transcribe it into long form but never did so now I will.  It is for:

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Today is the day I am out on pass.  As I mentioned, I had planned this trip before I was hospitalized and thought it might be a good idea to go anyway.  Perhaps it would take my mind off things?

Actually, I went there last year and promised people I would show pictures on my blog but I never did.  They needed to be altered as PA is anonymous and it just never got done.  The place is a Wild Animal Sanctuary run by a woman who grew up with Learning Disabilities and this is now her dream come to reality.  Just about all of the animals are domesticated so are “hands on” (they have been rescued.)  The Sanctuary is not open to the public.  Its purpose is to be used as therapeutic treatment for people/kids with Special Needs, on the Autistic Spectrum etc…  I know.  Fantastic.

I had a great time last year but this year? Not so much.  In fact, well, once there…maybe a bit better but prior to arrival…? *PA hangs head*

The group agreed to meet for lunch at a restaurant (the same plan as last year) and head up together.  I was a mess already but by the time everyone arrived, I became completely and totally overwhelmed.  The worst ever in my life.  A full-on Asperger’s meltdown!

Everyone’s voices all around me became so loud! I was completely surrounded by them and felt trapped! They began to fill my head as if nothing else was in it and the volume of their voices! It was almost painful! I felt myself starting to cry.  I couldn’t even lift my head to make eye contact with J. (it is through a group he/we belong to re: this trip.)  I ran out of the restaurant! J. just looked at me and said: “Smoke?”

As soon as I got outside, I just started bawling.  I was flipping out all over the place.  Another woman that I did know from the group that is friends with J. was familiar with the Autistic Spectrum.  She came out and had a cigarette with us and we talked for a bit.

Wow.  This was unbelievable.  It made me feel so…”different”…? It’s like, how do I fit into the human race? So violent a reaction that no one else had! To go running outside like the building is on fire while people are simply having lunch?

If I never understood what it feels like to have Asperger’s, I sure do now!

Once we got to the Sanctuary, we could spread out a bit so I could try and calm down.  But the photos! They are decidedly different from the ones taken last year! I either have total Aspie Face or am not even looking at the lens.  Well, in some I might have a smile.  Also, my hospital bands are visible! I couldn’t take them off for my pass! *rolls eyes*

By the time I got back, I was completely exhausted (and still rather a mess.)  I did not want any more social interaction at all! Well, I told my nurse about it make sure it was in my chart and I got my meds.  I also wrote about it to R. on his notepad and then just crashed.

Hospitalization #7 – I – Getting Well

Hospitalization #7 – Part II – Uh Oh…PAs In Trouble…

Hospitalization #7 – Part III – One Friend Met?

Hospitalization #7 – Part IV – Cranky, Cranky PA!

I just got off the phone with my friend P.  We have been playing telephone tag for some time now.  We talked for ages and needed to bring each other up to date–especially in light of me just being hospitalized.  For those that don’t know, I met him during my hospitalization before this last one–about two years ago.

Apart from all the goss, well, fuck.  I took him up to where I am taking you with “The Chronicles.”  We were exchanging “stories” of ill treatment from so called “Professionals” and something odd happened.  It all came back.  Even though I have it written down, when I was “verbally” expressing it…WHAM!

This was toward the end of our phone call and I started to go…  Voice trailing off, getting shaky…  P. could tell and apologized for the Trigger.  I told him that it wasn’t his fault.  I was stuttering by the time we ended and said goodbye.

Guess who has gone non-verbal now? Guess who has such a muddled head (more than before) that she can’t get anything straight in her mind? Guess who feels completely nauseous? Guess who has just taken a Valium/Diazepam to try and calm her fraying/ed nerves?

I know…I keep going on about “The Chronicles.”  More bloody linkbaiting for all of you.  I’m not doing it intentionally. *PA looks at notepad* There are only two days left.  Maybe I should just write up both and be done with it all.  However, it will probably be fairly long reads for everyone.  Nonetheless, you will finally understand why the whole ordeal was so completely devastating for me.

What I have written up to this point hasn’t really shown any of that.  I suppose only the business about how they messed up all of my meds? Only that degree of incompetence and lack of professionalism?

Well, I feel bad about continually keeping everyone in suspense.  I’ll try and write everything up now…crap.

NOTE: All links to this series may be found at the end of these posts.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Where should I start! However, I will add something positive.  I’m so out of it.

My last two nights of sleep have been totally redonculous.  The first, because of they gave me one of my immediate release Ritalin/Methylphenidate pills at bedtime along with my sleep meds.  It is qid (four times daily) and I had only taken one so I didn’t know if it would have any massive effect on me as I have never been on it before.  Let’s just say it didn’t do me any favours.  The second? Who knows?

My psychiatrist said no Ritalin after 1700hrs.  They have a four hour “schedule” to pass out everyone’s little candies here but since my lovely Ritalin is on a different one than theirs (none at bedtime!) I need to personally keep the schedule and remind the nurses. *PA smacks forehead* I’m sorry but is that not their job?

More on the med front? This may tie into another point.  I’ve been feeling down over the last couple of days.  I’m okay for a bit and them completely…blah…ugh…in a funk.

I noticed today that they are only giving me 200mg instead of 300mg of my Topomax/Topiramate! *PA smacks forehead again* It’s a little tedious to keep track of everything as it depends upon what the pharmacy has.  The pills aren’t always the same as what I have at home (e.g. 100mg of my Lamictal/Lamotrigine would come in four 25mg pills.)  Plus, the nurses want you to gulp them all down immediately so it’s not like I can stand there, counting, inspecting…

Apart from the “Ritalin Roller Coaster?” Well, a very abrupt drop in my blessed Topomax could definitely be a problem!  No proper discontinuation? Not to mention I shouldn’t be discontinuing it anyway! As you can see from all of this, people are fucking up here with my meds! They don’t know what the hell they’re doing! Wrong dosages! Wrong times! Leaving it up to me to correct them and tell them when I need to take everything.  Holy crap!

My Topomax handles the vast majority of the workload for my Bipolar.  It has for years.  The Lamictal was only added a little over two years ago as an adjunct when I started to go seriously off the rails.  It also has proven to be great.  The Topomax has also presumably done the same for my seizures as I remained seizure free until my job loss.  Regardless, I am reasonably sure that taking a third of it away would cause a drop in my mood? Quite.

I spoke to the nurse and she said I did get it as someone signed off on it! So, they signed off that they made an error? I kept bitching until they said they would review it with the on call Psychiatrist who worked during the weekends.

Yesterday was total Pyjama Day.  I think today will be too.  I just don’t have the energy or the care for clothes–well, “real” ones.

Oh, the “positive” thing? R. wrote me another song and sang it to me.  As I mentioned before, the first one he made up ad lib.  This one he composed on paper and let me keep the lyrics:

Send me the pillow that you dream on
Well darling you can tell on (it’s?) me

Each night as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms

Send me the pillow that you dream on
Well darling I can tell it’s all yours

Such a sweetheart.  He memorized it too, hours after he had give me what he wrote down!

EDIT: Later in evening, Aspie PA! Pretty damn non-verbal! Although, earlier in day ran to Nurses Station when I saw on call Psychiatrist! Fix my Topapamax! They did, so mood improving a bit? Aspie stuff? Overwhelmed by my day pass for tomorrow.  I even had to write to communicate with my nurse for my meds and to tell her I was feeling so overwhelmed! She didn’t seem to care for what I had to say but at least she read it! Whee!

Hospitalization #7 – I – Getting Well

Hospitalization #7 – Part II – Uh Oh…PAs In Trouble…

Hospitalization #7 – Part III – One Friend Met?