My Novels

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Loony Bin V

October 17th, Wednesday

Up at 5:30 every morning, bathed/dressed and ready for breakfast at 7:30. Last night I stayed up and watched the presidential debate in the TV room. Obama did very well, but I just don't know who will win. If Obama loses, I won't have health insurance (pre-existing plan now via government)...for sure a reason to be depressed. I don't want to lose everything I have, my home, my possessions to medical bankruptcy!

Have a headache this morning, still feel depressed. Depression, my constant companion.

Some of these senior ladies are very sweet--but a couple have already told me they don't want to live much longer due to being in constant pain. (Everyone here seems to be in physical pain of one sort or another, back, diabetic neuropathy, etc).

I don't know about living. It's been nice to be taken care of here, not to worry about caring for house, yard, cats, dogs, you-name-it. Maybe I had a nervous breakdown via alcohol? Couldn't get any rest, gave up. I still miss the booze though.

After breakfast:

Some names of seniors (not real names):
Betty: Regal, thin, birdlike, fragile (resembles my grandmother)
Margaret: Beauty in her day, full face, full lips, sharp green eyes
Ruth: Thin, wheelchair bound, sweet, humble and says she likes being here now, has someone to talk to other than cat
Julie: Always complaining about something, not a bad person, just speaks up more, has had back surgery, in lots of pain (65)

[I'm sitting in the library/quiet room making these notes. Cannot go back to room for hour after breakfast, why?]

Overheard in hallway where the elderly men/women sit lined up in their wheelchairs near the nurses station.

Man said, talking to another man, "I see you guys got the hall well controlled & patrolled."

Reply: "Someone has to do it."

Laughter.

More people:
Ida: Looks a lot like one of my aunts, guff voice. Seems a realist, not a softy.
Kate: Was in a car wreck, pretty woman about 40. Had brain injury, wasn't able to walk at first. With rehab/medication, she is able to start walking. But she shakes and can't quite control her hands yet. Her husband is very supportive. She won't be here much longer.

Not as familiar with the men yet.

Later:
Played rousing game of creating words out of two large words. Fun. NOT.

I don't know why I'm not receiving any direct counseling for my alcohol problem.

The psychiatrist comes by once a day, mumbles a few questions, adjusts medicine...and then he's gone. I thought I'd get counseling here.

Even later:
Psychiatrist came by and seemed a bit different, hesitant. Finally came out with: "...thought you might be purging after meals."

I told him repeatedly that I've never  purged! Yes, I've starved myself, but never purged because I can't stand vomiting. Great! Now he's more focused on my anorexia than alcoholism.

He did say I was looking a lot better, but had to stay out of my room an hour after meals. Crap! :-(

Tried to call my sister but she wasn't home; probably out walking my dogs.

B.O.R.E.D.

Walked up & down the hallway 10 times to get some exercise.

Sister called me back and I told her what psychiatrist said, so I...just don't know about this place.

Whatever drugs they are giving me sure do make me sleepy.

Though not dying to go home, I'm beginning to hope I leave by the middle of next week.

I will say the staff are nice, helpful and considering the histrionics and disabilities here, they do a remarkable job of never losing their temper, being patient.

~~~~~~
Ah, I see the edge of resistance to treatment rearing its ugly head in this entry! Sigh.



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