If you have a working bladder drop to your knees and thank God. If you can’t do even that much for Jesus then I don’t know you.
Some day you will use a catheter. It’s a fact. Maybe you have a baby and their rushing you to pee like your house is on fire and it gives you stage fright and before you know it.... catheter.
Maybe your prostate has been bulking up and you find yourself in the ER one night explaining that you can’t pee.... catheter.
Maybe you have surgery and can’t get out of bed.... yup.
Maybe your bladder is taking it’s own fucking time or has simply, Had. It.
Uh-huh.
Anyway....
What does that drug do?
Ok, for most of us it helps us feel woozy and cuddly. I looooove you! You might yell to a nurse you think looks like your favorite elementary school teacher.
Ah...... if I die, you might say..... I want to be a tree. Trees are nice. Birds like them and squirrels and treehouses made in my dead corpse of a tree would be lovely....
Occasionally...... well, there’s this sneaky little demon that’s bound a bit by rotating dilaudid and norrco every two hours. But you will be released and you will go to sleep and when you wake up..... surprise!!!!
I woke up screaming and trying to get out of bed. Luckily, and I do feel lucky about this, I had a huge incision in my abdomen and surgery through my vaheen and those two things kept me from going anywhere.
Why, because that thing in your brain that thinks..... what if you stepped in front of this moving car, which is then switched off by that other thing called, common sense, fear, self preservation stops you?
I lost those other things. All I had were the... what if you....
I woke up from a nightmare into real life which was quickly becoming a night terror. My husband ran in faster than I’ve ever seen him and I cried.... I can’t stop myself. It’s dangerous, husband’s name. I’m going to kill or hurt myself.
What if you took a knife and pushed it into your stomach? And my body needs to get the knife. Good news... I’m in a wheel chair that I can’t use yet....
My husband seems to grasp very quickly what I’m saying but he takes me to the balcony doors because it’s 32 degrees outside and cold calms me down but.... you’re so close to the balcony, what if you ...
And I literally put my hands up on the door frame and yell.... help me!!!!! Shut the door!!!!!!!!
Pain meds, two, anxiety meds, two.... now! Now!!!! And I grab a decorative pillow and put it over my face so I can scream. I warn my husband first.... I have to get it out. I’m gonna scream... he looks out the shut balcony windows..... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.... I’m sobbing.... I’m sorry.....
And the meds start that numbness that I need badly....
Def making a call to the doctor about this, we think and say!
Oh, ya. That’s the med that helps you forget.
Huh?
Ya, the one we give before you go in.
Never take that again.
He calls in more numbing pain meds.... stay medicated for a couple days.
Me: no fucking problem.
So.... here’s the thing. Up to 60% of people who have that reaction commit suicide. No shit!
But not because they want too!!!!!! How many people have had surgery and killed themselves a few days later, the hospital doesn’t know it, if they do do they report it? And their family’s are left totally confused and in pain. That is scary!!!!
Shouldn’t we be warned that five days from now you might want to lock yourself in an empty room.... you know, to be on the safe side.
And I’ve never experienced that before. Thank god I know what panic attacks feel like because at the very least, I recognized that this was a monster rollercoaster related to panic and I could ask for help from someone who could get what I was trying to say.
Questions next time.
And I know that sounds crazy and it felt fucking crazy but can happen to anyone.
Haven’t been able to paint lately but I am today. Yay!
Tracy
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