Locked up, Day Two

The day started with a blood draw. I had a hard time with labs and tests because nobody told me why for any of them, and I'm used to that. I'm also used to being told the rests.

After breakfast the research assistant came in and did a bunch of assessments with me. She also left a pile of them for me to work on. A while later I finally saw a doctor (for ease he's Dr.Hospital One). The only I was supposed to have was out with flu so this one hadn't really seen my chart. He frightened me by suggesting a trial of Lamictal again at some point. Since I've had two bad reactions to Lamictal I expressed strong oposition; he wasn't convinced. At that point he also had me stop imipramine totally and worked on digging out samples enough to cover me until the pharmacy had some in. The hospital is the psych center for an entire huge hospital and they didn't stalk Emsam, which I guess shows how rarely it's used. I was later told maybe 10 times per year.

That was the day anxiety started to become unbearable. I was asking for ativan as often as I would, and it wasn't doing much of anything. Dr. Hospital One suggested I increase my seroquel, but I was afraid to.

At some point during that day I met with the social worker. She said that I had a good support system arranged and that I was right that I could home into the same situation and be ok.

We had a psychotherapy group with the social worker that afternoon about how to improve things at home so we'd do better. I told them I felt my situation was different, that what I was doing worked great for me and when my meds were ok I'd be fine again.

I have always been prescribed ativan on a "you can take this much, start at the lowest dose and take more if you don't calm down, up to a maximum of whatever". I though this was going to be the same. Until I asked for an ativan that night and was told it wasn't time and I was given Seroquel instead. I said that it would make me sleepy, and the nurse just grunted. (This begins the story of the nurse I really, really did not like). So I took it and did what I'm supposed to do after taking it: I got ready for bed and when I fell asleep I let myself. That's what years of Dr. Mind and Dr. Brain drilling things into your head will do for you: I'm thoroughly trained to go to bed in the small window of opportunity that I have. I must have been pretty soundly asleep because I didn't hear them announce group. But then the meanest nurse ever charged into my room, turned on the light and told me I had to get to group. I was so out of of it I couldn't get my slippers on the right feet. Then she wanted me to talk about how my day was. I told her I was too groggy to talk. She got more angry. I started to cry because I felt so ashamed and that I'd done something very wrong without knowing. I then cried for a few hours. She came to talk to me but succeeded only in making it worse.

I cried until 11:30 or so and then slept terribly. I had one nightmare that is still disturbing me 10 days later and which I think involved some screaming, and another that I don't remember but which I woke up from covered in sweat and trying to throw my tangled covers off.