Tinhuviel Artanis

DISCLAIMER

What you are about to read is an account of some happenings earlier this year.  It’s not at all a pretty story, and could possibly be triggery to anyone living with a mental illness, or with someone with a mental illness.  Please proceed with caution

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There is a not-so-happy little place called Alvarado Parkway Institute, in La Mesa, California.  I ended up there four times in 2016, the last time being voluntary.  The first three times were for suicide attempts.  The fourth was an attempt on my part to not try again.

 

API has many hallmarks you might expect to see in a movie like One Flew over the Cuckoos Nest.  They engage in something I call “punitive therapy.”  The logic, as I see it, goes a little like this:  Oh, your being admitted to our hospital?  Well, excellent!  We will make you as miserable as we can, until you straighten up and stop being a snowflake.  There are four wings in the hospital, the Open Wing, the Forensics Wing (where prisoners are housed, whenever they go batshit like the rest of us.), South Wing for the elderly, homeless, and extreme depression, and the North Wing, which houses the violent patients, suicide attempts, and perverts.

 

Barring Forensics, I was in every wing.  I got off easy the first three times, what with my reason for being admitted.  I spent a brief stint in the Open Wing, but was transferred to the South Wing a day later, because I’d had a seizure, and they could keep a better eye on me in that part of the facility.  The next two times, I was placed in South.

 

The fourth time, I asked to be admitted.  It was New Years Eve, an event that is closely associated with Aunt Tudi.  We used to sit and watch the ball drop and sip eggnog, as we discussed the passing year and what our plans would be for the new year.  I had already been rattled by many of the events that transpired during the last half of the year, and I knew that if I tried to tough the night out, I would attempt another suicide, just to stop the memories and grief.  I figured I’d stay for a few days until the dust settled, and I had already enrolled in a different insurance plan that would allow me to go to a different hospital

 

I was wrong.  I remained on the Open Wing for almost two weeks. at which time the Mother Unit was going to come pick me up.  But the day she was supposed to get me, she never showed.

 

I tried calling her to no avail, so I finally gave in and called Matt.  It was then I found out that the Unit was in the hospital and had been since the day before.  She had to get a stent in her heart, as she’s got congestive heart failure.  I lost my mind, which isn’t a good thing when you’re locked up in a place for people who have lost their minds.  I asked if I could stay a couple more days, which the doctor agreed to OK.

 

The next day, I finally talked to the Unit, having gotten her hospital room phone number.  We weren’t two minutes into the conversation, when she started fussing at me for turning Matt down for a ride.  I was called rude, inconsiderate, and so on and so forth.  I tried to explain that I decided to stay a little while longer, because I felt that Matt should be close to the Unit, and I was all the way out in La Mesa.  I was trying to do what I though was the right thing.  And I got bitched at.

Then I really fell apart.  And I made the mistake of telling my doctor that I was again experiencing suicidal ideation.  The next day, I was transferred to the North Wing.  The place reeked of putrified happiness.  My blood pressure sky-rocketed, so they had to give me an Ativan.  I was so freaked out in the Wing, I refused to leave my room.

 

Now API has communal showers.  You ask the nurse to open the shower for you, you clean up, come out, and it’s someone else’s turn.  Now, I have this issue with touching things that naked strangers have touched.  I can’t do it.  But the next morning, I was forced to do it.  On the other two wings, they were perfectly happy to allow me to take bird baths and wash my hair in the lavatory.  I was always clean.  I never stunk.  But this one particular nurse had it in her mind to make me shower no matter what.  She escorted me down the hall, then threw me into that shower, which induced another panic attack as a result.  Another Ativan for me.

 

As previously mentioned, I refused to leave my room, which meant I couldn’t attend group sessions, nor did I want to, as I had nothing in common with any of the other patients, and I didn’t trust them or the staff to protect me from them.  The problem is, they monitor your group activity and, if you don’t attend, they will keep you longer.  

 

Because of that, my doctor, who spent all of two minutes with me each day, kept me for another two weeks.  In the North Wing.  It got to the point where I requested to change doctors.  When he found out I had done that, he stopped my sleeping pill, which was the only way I could sleep in that hell pit.  And it’s the only thing that keeps Aunt Tudi from calling me in the night, since it was nighttime when she would need me the most.  

 

I spent the majority of January in this hospital, simply because I needed help with my depression and complicated grief.  But they made me worse.  I experienced a psychotic break from lack of sleep.  As I understand it, I was running down the hall, trying to find Aunt Tudi before she died.  At least that’s what they told me.  And I was nearly catatonic from sleep deprivation by the time I was discharged.

 

I finally got my shit together, though, thanks to the hospital under my current health plan.  They listen without judgement, they work with you individually, and they provide tools that help people with mental illness better manage their symptoms.

 

What’s so funny is, API’s motto is “A Culture of Caring.”  The only thing they care about is lining their pockets at the expense of both patients and the underpaid staff.  Don’t get me wrong, there were many good people at API, but they were overworked, stretched thin, and shown little, if any, appreciation.  You can’t mistreat people, then expect them to get better, or have morale, respectively.

One more thing about API:  They need to better train their staff to deal with people who are simply depressed, or reserve a place just for those with depression.  When you begin mixing vastly different people with a rainbow of symptoms, nobody wins.  I spoke with many fellow patients who were depressed, and they agreed that it was detrimental to their mental health to be in an environment where you're treated like a criminal or someone who has dissociated from the world.

 

I’m so glad I will never darken the doors of Alvarado Parkway Institute again.  I hope that someday, both the patients and the staff run amuck and burn this psychiatric bog of eternal stench to the ground.

So I'm back in the bosom of the house, even though I'm spending nights at Janice's and Michael's for the next few days. I'm still not very comfortable being by myself for any significant length of time and, considering I have no transportation for a while, that means I'll be imposing myself upon the good will of the aunt and uncle. It makes me consider even more seriously the idea of chucking it all and going to live nearer to the Mother Unit, if she'd have me. I still don't see myself doing such a thing until Chester has made the great journey beyond, though. I would feel it to be a betrayal not only to him, but to Aunt Tudi as well. So that's not gonna happen.

Toby is another matter altogether. Toby is still a youngster and would be the perfect companion to an older single person, or an elderly couple. He's definitely a one-dog canine, being quite territorial and possessive. I have constant problems with him trying to run the other beasties away from what he considers his and his alone - me.

Smidgen, of course, goes where I go. She's my baby. Period. No arguments on that point, even if it means that I remain in this house until my dying day. The only problem I think the Mother Unit would have with Smidgen is that mah Smidge still has her claws. And she always will. I don't believe in de-clawing. Even before I saw the procedure done, I was against the practice. Seeing how it was done and how the animal suffers during recovery makes it eternally verboten in Tin-land. Soft Paws might be an option, though. I deeply doubt that Smidge would want to engage in any serious discourse with the Unit's birds, seeing as how they're all almost her size and meaner than shit, but if she did become interested, Soft Paws would nip that inclination in the bud without any pain felt by anyone.

I made two Tim Roth Tutorials whilst lying in the hospital. Some of the devout followers of the series (Hooligans one and all) were shocked that I would do such a thing when I was feeling so poorly. Well, there wasn't much to do there, but watch television (not good telly either), try to write (which is hard when you're kind of drugged up), or engage in anything remotely meaningful other than trying to heal. I'm not saying the Tutorials have no meaning. Far from it! It's just that they're very easy to make once I know what the lesson is going to be. I've created a template that I use for each one, so it's really just paring down to what scene I need and changing the lesson number, along with wording the lesson just so. The most difficult bit of Tutorial creation is finding the perfect scene and thinking up an appropriate lesson for accompaniment. That's the trickiest bit. One thing that really pisses me off, though, is finding a wonderful Tutorial, but not being able to create it, because the ripped version of the movie turns out to be in French or Martian, or whatever, or it's scrambled beyond all semblance of sanity. What few Lie to Me Tutorials I've been able to make are all blocked worldwide on You Tube. Thank the Mighties for Vimeo! Despite the issues that come along with using that video sharing site, at least Vimeo is more charitable when it comes to free exchange of imagery. But I am babbling. I need to catch up the Cliffs with the current Tim Roth Tutorials before I make any more of them. So stay tuned for that.

Oh, one more thing on The Tutorials; I have announced to the Hooligans that, when I have run out of sufficient Archibald Cunningham footage to create new lessons, the Tim Roth Tutorials will come to a close. I don't think they were thrilled with the idea; however, I still have tons of good material to create more Tutorials, so it's not like the series is ending tomorrow.

Okay, enough of that.

Janice checked my mailbox yesterday and brought me a package from Barry. It contained three or four copies each of Shriekback's Having a Moment, his solo project Haunted Box of Switches, and Stic Basin's self-titled EP. There was a gentleman who expressed more than a rabid interest in Haunted Box, which Barry was all too gracious to share after I told him what the fellow had said. I am going to try to sell the other copies and send B the fundage I may get from such a venture. We shall see. One thing I do need t find out, though; the titles of the Stic Basin songs. I had them on my old iTunes before the computer was pulverised by Sprite. I was not so lucky with the retrieval of everything for iTunes, and that included the Stic Basin tracks. Soooo...I'm gonna have to ask him about that.

Now I am wondering if I should try to write anything of substance (as if that ever happens!) or just surf the web whilst listening to groove-ass songs, like the one playing on iTunes right now. What? "Party Man" by Prince, Joker's original theme song, and rightfully so, yo. "Why So Serious" is an epic theme, don't get me wrong. But "Party Man" so perfectly fits Joker, even Nolan's interpretation. Speaking of Nolan and Batman, it had been the plan to drive up to Concord and have a date with janalyson to see The Dark Knight Rises. That was pretty much tanked when I had the seizure in particular, but was indefinitely round-filed when the advent of my unexpected hospitalisation. I just hope my unfortunate travel-destroying misfortunes have not ruined janalyson's chances of seeing the flick on the silver screen. I've heard that's the only effective way of TDKR, preferably in an IMAX theatre. Here's hoping she and Jennifer are able to make it. As for me, I'll hopefully be able to see it when it comes out on video. If we all haven't been eradicated by the Alpaca Lips, I shall check it out then. If we are rendered extinct, it really won't matter in the end, anyway. Win-Win, as I see it.

Okie-Day, I think that's all I have for now. I'm off to either try to write, or make merry on The Intarwebz. Or I may snag a flick off Netflix, god bless 'em for their mere existence... 'Night 'Night.

I'm a little tiddly bit stir crazy. My scheduled "release date" is Sunday, 4 March. They say I'm doing well with the physical therapy, but my only problem is I'm not straightening my leg to the desired point, which is 2. The closest I've gotten is 3. All the therapists with whom I've worked say that the reason for this is the swelling in my knee. So, instead of keeping it as straight as possible in the bed last night, I kept the whole leg elevated and iced all night. The swelling had gone down just a tad by this morning. I decided to keep the leg elevated and iced until they come to take me to the Inquisition Dungeon for rehab. Hopefully, I'll reach the desired goal and cement the physician's decision to let me leave on Sunday.

When I leave here, I'm going to Uncle Michael's and Janice's for at least a week. Janice has prepared the extra bedroom for me and has planned a nice meal revolving around potatoes for when I come home. As soon as I feel confident enough to walk down to the house, I'm going to visit the beasties and get them used to the idea that I'm back. I think easing them back into the idea that I'm home will prevent them from acting like idiots (Toby) and trying to climb my frame (Toby), potentially hurting my incision area.

For now, here I sit with my new roommate of three days, who talks constantly if not to me, to someone on the phone or to her bevy of visitors. And she keeps her TV loud enough to drown my TV out. And she's racist...and probably sexist and religiously judgemental. Y'know...a Repugnican. Honestly, that's the only problem I've had other than the pain. It takes an act of god for any medicine to work for me, not just pain medicine, and they've had me on the lowest dose possible for pain. Needless to say, it has had less than stellar effect on my pain issues. I'm hoping they send me home with something a tad stronger than what I'm getting here; otherwise, I am essentially fucked and will be calling the doc incessantly until I get some results 'cos, right now, it sucks like a Dyson.

That's some serious suckage.

Today, I think I'm going to keep my headphones on as much as possible and just listen to music all day long. There's really nothing of interest on the telly, especially since there are no movie channels available on the Spartanburg Regional satellite. I may even try to work on The Harming Tree some. My block is still very much present, but at least I'm able to write a little at times. A little is better than nothing.

I can't believe she's gone. When she left, I was holding her hand. I barely remember going to the mortuary with Aunt Janice and making arrangements. Then it all went blank for me and I woke up in the hospital in ICU. I had taken way too many pills trying to go to sleep, and almost killed myself. Really, I think that's what I was trying to subconsciously do. Janice is the one who got me help. They're still cleaning out my system, but should let me out tomorrow. I don't know what I'll do then. I don't really want to go home. Aunt Tudi is everywhere there. Her presence permeates that house. Most of what's there belongs to her and I don't know what I'm going to do with it.

There are places I can go. I've asked the Mother Unit if I can come stay with her for a week, so I'll be going out to California sooner rather than later. I have friends out there I hope to see. acook, gunslingaaahhh, and Scott are just a few I can think of right now. Janice, Johnna, and Diane have all opened their doors to me, whenever I need to get away from the house. I am not alone. I know this and it's beyond comforting and I can't express how appreciative I am.

The love and support I've gotten from around the world has been overwhelming, and the remembrance of Aunt Tudi has touched me so very much. She was such a special and unique soul, she never did belong in this vale of tears. I loved her so much. She was my best friend, the one who showed me love when I felt my most alone. Right now, I feel beyond alone. I am bereft, empty.

I'm thinking of giving up the animals and moving away from here. I've always hated SC, and there is nothing here for me now, even though I do have family who loves more than I realised. Being alone, I have the opportunity to move to England. I may do that, since I felt so at home there. I have very close friends there who would help me adjust to English life, and I could still draw my disability there, so I would have an income. Nothing really except the dogs and cats are holding me here, and I will remain for as long as it takes to find them good homes, although it'll break my heart to say goodbye to them. They were always closer to Aunt Tudi than they were to me, except for Toby and Smidgen. It'll be Smidgen I miss the most.

Timothy called earlier. It was great comfort to hear his voice. We're going to have lunch soon. glittertrixie called me this morning and I felt so bad for not knowing who she was at first, but I'm not thinking straight right now. I how she wasn't offended. The Mother Unit called this afternoon. I really needed to hear her voice and know she was gonna be there for me. I owe her more than I can ever repay her, but she's still gonna be there. We grieved together for a few minutes, then she was off to get ready for work.

So there it is. That is all I can think of writing at the moment. The only thing I can say is that I am going to miss Aunt Tudi for the rest of life, but I will go on because I know that's what she would want me to do. She was the strongest person I ever knew and I just hope I can live up to her strength a small percentage.

So I'm back at the hospital. Aunt Tudi is asleep, just the way I left her at 1 this afternoon. That stress test, combined with the phenergin they're giving her for nausea, has really kicked her ass in a mighty way. When I got here, I spied a flower arrangement, sent from acook and gunslingaaahhh. Aunt Tudi hasn't seen the flowers yet. When she does, she's gonna have a hissy fit of joy. I don't think anyone other than me has ever sent her flowers when she's in the hospital. See, Aunt Tudi has always been a caregiver and, therefore, pretty much taken for granted. When she needs a little TLC herself, people tend to forget about her and just assume she knows they care about her. As a result, I've heard more than once from Aunt Tudi, once she gets out of the hospital, "You know, Tracy, I bet the hospital staff think I'm a terrible person because I never get phone calls, visits, or cards. I just lie in that room by myself except for you, and that's a sign of someone who is basically hated." And it just really hurts her to the bone, and me too, for her. So the phone calls she's gotten, and this flower arrangement, combined with the visits, and the balloon and card from yesterday have really surprised her and made her very very happy. Thank you all so much. I'm a bit teary-eyed myself, thinking about how very cool all of you are. You so rock, there's just no way to express it sufficiently in human language. Maybe if I could say it in Quenya...

There is another storm on the horizon. It's every night's business, which didn't used to be the case. And some people contend there's no such thing as global warming. Puh-tooiee. It's good to be in safe and dry before the rains come. Whatever the weather, I'm planning on staying until visiting hours are over, which is 9 PM. I brought the computer and electric cord so I won't go mad from 'net withdrawal.

I'm sitting here in the emergency room, waiting to be called back to Aunt Tudi's waiting room. She's been vomiting since about 7:30 this morning and couldn't even hold her medicine down. I gave her her insulin shot, but she wasn't able to eat anything afterward, so her blood sugar went all wonky on her. I called her doc who suggested that she go to the E/R. So I dialed 911 'cos the paramedics would be able to help her in the event she had to vomit again, which has been every few minutes now for hours. They could also react swiftly to any blood sugar issues en route to the hospital.

So here I am, waiting for them to tell me when I can go back. As soon as I know more, I'll document it here.

A big thank you to everyone who has commented, offering up concerns/energies/thoughts/prayers/whatnot. It's all most welcome and appreciated. Aunt Tudi is fine with people throwing their mojo in her direction, as she can use all the mojo she can get and she knows it. I'd respond to each comment if I could, but I haven't had a moment to myself since around midnight last night and it's looking to be the same way this evening. I'm stopping just long enough to check mail and give an update, then I'm off to my final Dollar General interview before I'm placed in a store at 5, and then I'm off to the hospital to take Aunt Tudi some things.

As it stands now, the docs are pretty sure it's her medicines doing her in regarding the potassium and creatine levels. I'm supposed to take all her meds down tonight so the doctors and sort through it all and make adjustments as needed. Aunt Tudi's potassium is going down, but very slowly. She's had to drink four more shots of that skanky goo and, as a result, she's spent the goodly part of her day in El Water Closet. A kidney specialist came to visit her today and he seems to think that her problem is the medicines and not her kidneys. That's a relief. She's had an echocardiagram and some other tests that I can't remember what she said they were but, all in all, Aunt Tudi's being well-taken care of.

I worked through lunch, came straight home and set to mowing the grass. After an hour in 100+ degree hell, I came in and peeled my wet clothes off, started a washing, and jumped in the shower. Ten minutes later, I jumped out of the shower, dried, wrapped my hair in a towel, gathered some of the things Aunt Tudi needs at the hospital, then threw the washing in the drier and tossed another load in the washer. I then got a bowl of Rice Krispies and popped online to check mail and write this. Once I'm offline, I need to get dressed and slap on some make-up for my final entrance interview. I'm off to Duncan to talk to Tami, then off to the hospital to spend some time with Aunt Tudi.

I figure I'll be home by 8 or 9 tonight. When I get home, I need to put up the clean clothes, feed the cats and, of course, get myself online to check email and do some writing here. Tomorrow will be here before I know it, which sucks big hickeys on the ass of Satan himself.