Sunday, 23 December 2012

Acute nuthut; eating disorder nuthut; rehab.

God, how things have changed since my last post. I'd actually been keeping a diary of everything unfolding, which I'll publish on here at some point. In the meantime, I'll fill you in with retrospect because I'm sitting in a hospital bed with a nurse next to me and don't really feel like getting my diary out and translating it to the screen- that seems too personal, somehow, despite not being able to piss without having someone within arm's reach of me. So the real time details shall wait.

I'm on an eating disorder unit. Not the one I've been to before, a far nicer one. But, at the end of the day, a unit is a unit, especially when you've to gain weight and you can't go home for Christmas. I'm getting ahead of myself. First of all, I was admitted to the nuthut. Again. I went to my appointment last week- how it was less than a week ago is unfathomable, this has been one hell of a long week- thinking that I'd maybe see if rehab was an option, and was actually told that it was the ONLY option and until such a time as they could sort a bed and funding and all that, I'd be admitted to the nuthut. Needless to say, I wasn't best impressed, but I was given leave of the evening and told I could have a few days out over Christmas, and so whilst I wasn't overly enthusiastic, I was alright. In one place, with guarantees.

So I thought. Instead, on Friday arvo I was taken into a meeting and told my BMI was too low for me to go to rehab, that instead I had to go to an ED unit to gain weight and then go to rehab after that. Adding more months to what is already going to be a longggg admission. I presumed that nowt could/would get done until the new year, not remembering that the week had already taught me to presume nowt good from these meetings. What actually happened was they came and told me little more than two hours later that they'd found a bed and that I was to go in that night. I flat out refused, so they called a section meeting and put me on a section 3. By the time all that was done, it  was too late to come and so I landed here yesterday.

How is it? How am I? Stressful. Stressed. I'm constantly anxious and by mistake or misdemeanor or misdesign, the nuthut staff said I was on half my usual dose of my anti-psychotic so I didn't sleep last night (it's a sedative) and have been extra anxious today. I feel like hell. And I can't go home for Christmas. Fed up would be an understatement, I just want to be home and I know it'll be summer at least by the time I'm finally free.

1 comment:

  1. I am so sorry to hear you will not be out for Christmas... I feel so bad for you Rebecca:(