That is my summary of 2013. Six months of desperately wanting to die, 6 months of not wanting to die, while not necessarily wanting to live. I am more at peace now with where and who I am and that is progress. Progress is a good thing after 18 months of wanting nothing but to die.
Because maybe in a year I won't remember this, right now progress means that I am starting to tell people when I don't like how they are treating me. I am actually doing fairly well doing this with Dr. Mind, although it has a week's delay because I have to think about it before I know if I'm right. But I have done it a few times in recent months and since he's very confrontational of late I am getting lots of practice. I've also done a little better with my family although that is much more difficult. I also am starting to look at Dr. Mind more when talking to him. We've progressed from trying to know what shirt he was wearing each visit (and not just his shoes) to eye contact a number of times in the 12/30/13 session. Those things are big. Recognizing that is big.Tuesday, December 31, 2013
2013: The year I stopped wanting to die
Misconception
I was reading a book (You Saved Me Too: What a Holocaust Survivor Taught Me about Living, Dying, Fighting, Loving, and Swearing in Yiddish by Susan Kushner Resnick, 2013, pg. 85) this evening that had the following passage:
Here there is a problem. What about all the people with moderate to severe depression that isn't post-partum? They too need treatment in many to most cases. And post-partum depression can be mild and not require treatment. Even if the analogy is simply that depression is like a cold and ranges from needing time to needing treatment that still can overly medicalize it since some people benefit the most from psychotherapy and few colds improve from talking about it. However, that's not my real problem.
My real problem is this:I firmly believe mental illness is a disease of the brain, just like asthma is a disease of the lungs. No one brings it on himself.
That part is fair and good. No problems here.Low-level depression is like a bad cold-sometimes you need medicine, sometimes you just need time. What I had, post-partum depression-is like pneumonia: acute, but curable with the right course of drugs.
Here there is a problem. What about all the people with moderate to severe depression that isn't post-partum? They too need treatment in many to most cases. And post-partum depression can be mild and not require treatment. Even if the analogy is simply that depression is like a cold and ranges from needing time to needing treatment that still can overly medicalize it since some people benefit the most from psychotherapy and few colds improve from talking about it. However, that's not my real problem.
Bipolar disorder is more like asthma-chronic, but usually controllable if you take the medicine-and schizophrenia is like lung cancer. Catch it early and it might not ruin your life.
And while this is a book about a woman's relationship with a Holocaust survivor, not a treatise on mental illness, this is presented so factually that it needs to be addressed. There is not a mood disorder spectrum. There is not a mental illness spectrum. One person's depression can be much more debilitating that someone else's bipolar disorder. Some people with schizophrenia respond well to treatment and after an initial diagnosis function well on meds for many years without issues (I'm sure they have drug issues, but they succeed despite their diagnosis). I have faithfully taken every medication handed to me and ultimately my bipolar disorder made me really, really ill although I was able to fight with all my strength and do ok for a number of years. I even did well a little of the time. But the spectrum thing is too simplistic and too big on the "she's sicker than you because she has post-partum depression and you "just" have depression while I'm sicker than both of you with bipolar but not as sick as him because he has schizophrenia." That thinking is not good. So if you read it please undo it in your head.Friday, December 27, 2013
To the world (is that too broad?)
First and as a side note, I've been away for a while. I've been much more symptomatic lately and just haven't felt like talking to much of anyone. It got very complicated for a bit as Dr. Mind trying to prove a point caused a lot of stress and then there were 2 days of Christmas celebrations preceded by a lot of sewing, cleaning and the normal stuff and although I still don't have water or septic we had my things moved into my home last week so that we can start moving things in and assembling Ikea furniture while we wait. So a lot is going on and I'm barely feeling up to handling it. When I'm on my own and have these times when I'm really depressed I nap more. Living here that isn't as possible so instead I'm exhausted all the time. I haven't been using my SAD lamp this year which is also not helping. First it was triggering migraines and then when it seemed ok to try again my mood was so weird that Dr. Brain wanted me to wait a month because she isn't sure what med to adjust and hoped time would make it clear.
But the real point here........Thursday, December 19, 2013
A long time
Two years ago today I signed the green voluntary commitment papers that admitted me to the psychiatric unit. I knew I was dangerously suicidal and tried to communicate that fact but it took another day and a half before I got the point across to the nurses and doctors. That stay was long and very, very difficult. I had painful conversations with seemingly everyone but especially Drs. Brain and Mind who gently explained about the precautions I would need indefinitely. Two years later some are still in place, most notably that I have limited access to medications. Every week for 2 years I have brought my meds in a padlocked box to Dr. Mind's office. He gives me the key. If he is worried he watches me. Most of the time he doesn't really. Nobody will say when this will end.
That hospitalization was emotionally the hardest of all of them because it was when I started verbalizing my terrible awareness that I was not going to be able to work anymore. Saying that the first 10 times felt like ripping my own heart out. Then it got a little easier and although I still couldn't say it without crying for months after I left I was saying it and preparing for it. I remember being in a group the day after Christmas and 3 days after I had first said the words. We were asked to talk about something that we had damaged in our lives because of our illnesses. I said simply that by letting things get out of control I had ended my career. At that moment little was said about that but at the end of the group the leader made a point of saying that he knew what my career was and that he was sorry. By that point all the staff were being briefed that I was dealing with that when they checked in before the groups so he knew that I was not saying much about it except to Dr. Brain and that saying it in group was big. (The first group I said it in was just 2 people, me and someone else). Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Liar LIar
So I saw Dr. Mind. I told him that I had remembered. I then downplayed totally how much it has affected me. I either did it well or he didn't care to push because he seemed to accept it. I didn't even tell him the story. I should have but the truth is that I need to get through Christmas and then I can deal with this. I am doing pretty well with the holidays and I just can't handle this now. Next week I'll tell him that but this week I just lied. For some reason I really wanted him to think I was doing really well today (so I didn't have to talk about that). But I'm not ready to cope with it so probably am not doing the best job with it.
I'm trying to do sewing for my nieces' Christmas presents. It's frustrating because of lack of space. I made some yesterday so I could at least function but things aren't going smoothly and that's partly the space issue. Oh well. Someday I'll have more space again.As of today I'm officially done Christmas shopping. I have some things that are ordered that aren't here but I don't have to go in another store (except to buy oil for my car tomorrow) and I have sewing to complete (bibs for the baby, one applique to a onesie, and a cape for Anne). I spent more than I should have but I'm pretty happy with what I got and the deals I found.
The house still isn't done and no word on when it will be so I'm very glad that I did not buy a Christmas tree. I'm going to move stuff over and start setting things in corners just to get them out of my way here, as soon as it's less icy. Our driveway is currently dangerous. We're hoping to get a good estimate on having movers load things into a truck an then pile it in the house. We just don't want to have to load and unload the truck if we can avoid it and that way we don't have to ask my brother or BIL to come move the freezer and washer/dryer. I am expecting to be here for Christmas. 7 months......
Sunday, December 08, 2013
avoidance
I've been avoiding writing. Emails, blogs, I just haven't wanted to talk about this. And I'm really still not going to say much. I might have said more but then I was trying to work on the Christmas sewing I desperately need to do and I ran the needle through the outer few layers of skin while the machine was going and that was as unpleasant as it sounds and I still completely ruined the bib I was making. So instead of feeling all proud because I got some things done and managed to do so despite how hard it is for me to knit or sew while crammed into this room (overcrowding is making me slightly stir crazy. I'm going to start putting some of my things in the corners over there because I need space) I instead am frustrated.
But even that isn't the real reason I've become quiet. Several years ago I wrote some about how a discussion of some of my extreme fears that stem from the abuse I lived through led to a discussion of my profound fear of guns and that it was pretty clear that something had scared me about a gun at some point in time but I did not remember. I was eventually convinced that I did not need to remember and that remembering would probably only hurt me. Even through the PTSD treatment where I had to remember a lot I did not remember what happened. I was driving along thinking about this and something flashed through my head and I was really afraid and I even said aloud "I'm remembering. Please God I don't want to remember". But I did. And while I am not even particularly freaked out (probably because it was likely to be some variation on one of just a few things so I did know what it was likely to resemble), I am avoiding thinking about it or what it meant. I will say that it was an obvious scenario but the people involved are not who I would have thought. It does, however, take one memory that has always been something that I remembered a certain amount of and then no more of what happened and it gives it an ending and a reason that I forgot and a reason for my fear.
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
Big thoughts
One day recently it suddenly occurred to me that part of what I'm fighting with still regarding having to stop working and how limited my life is in many ways is that I wonder if I had stopped sooner if I would have not lost quite as much. From very early on in my career there were warnings that I was not in a specialty that worked extremely well for me (but in other ways (flex time) it let me survive). I knew that I was struggling to survive working but I didn't know what else to do. I kept thinking that if I was to change career paths that an obvious path would become apparent. There was once a chance to do something with wheelchairs that I would have taken but it fell through because Medicaid didn't approve of the innovation of the position I would have had. There were hints about wheelchair jobs another few times but never clear ones. And so I kept going until I no longer could.
I asked Dr. Mind if I would have wound up where I am now if I had stopped sooner. He thought a bit and said that emotionally I hadn't been ready to stop sooner and that I would have had a harder time getting approved for disability before the drastically sick time when I was. He also told me that he had become concerned about my ability to keep working over the course of the last year that I did it. He said he wasn't ready to say anything but was afraid he would need to because he was concerned that I could become so tired I wasn't safe for my patients.Saturday, November 30, 2013
Thankful
Last year Thanksgiving was wonderful and very special. We were on the Outer Banks and we love it there. Anne was at a very funny age. Everything was great but it wasn't a standard Thanksgiving. The year before that Dr. Mind and I agreed there was no way I was participating because I had just gotten out of the hospital with lithium toxicity and still felt like crap plus had no slept in several days between hallucination and the hospital messing up my psych meds, so I skipped it. The year before that I had whooping cough and wasn't allowed near Anne (and other people weren't really going to want to be with me; I was still pretty sick). The year before that was just my mom and I and we ditched all tradition and had a delicious roast recipe that I have never cooked again because the next day I felt funny at work and then we kept sending really sick patients to the ER and my co-wokers teased me that it was making me nervous. Until I said it started that morning. Then they stayed far away. I was so sick I was in the ER twice for fluids and rule out appendicitis and then had to see Dr. Mind twice more in the next week. So it's been a long time since Thanksgiving was normalish. This year it was my brother, mom and I and that's pretty normal. My sister's family alternates grandparents so next year will be more lively but it was nice with just the 3. Not too loud, just the right amount of food, etc.
Friday my mom and sister went shopping for a while and then Anne came up. We've just hung out mostly. We went to a crafts show today and later made a craft I've been waiting to do with her for a few months. She's got a cold and gets tired pretty easily right now so lots of reading and playing on the ipad happened. She played with most of her toys at some point, she just wanted a lot more quiet time.Tuesday, November 26, 2013
ouch
I feel like someone punched me in the face today. Fortunately that did not happen, I merely had a root canal. After the last few days when the pain radiated clear to my shoulder and I took contra-band (not supposed to take with lithium and especially now because my level is up) ibuproferon because nothing else helped, I was pretty sure that nothing the dentist did could top that pain. And I was right, but I am sore.
Last week he told me that since this tooth was already crowned that he would go in through the crown and that it would or wouldn't survive the procedure. He also said that if the tooth was in too bad of a condition from the deep crack it already that I would have to have it pulled. So obviously the best possible scenario was that I would leave with a crowned tooth and no need for a new crown.Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Oh boy
I got my paperwork for medicare a month ago but haven't been brave enough to search for plans until today. I didn't thoroughly look and I avoided the drug plans but I did find out that I can't get a Medigap policy. That means that all co-pays come directly from me. I had hoped to pay for the Medigap to reduce my costs a bit since I have to pay 20% of everything that isn't inpatient and inpatient has high costs too. Ohio is behind in requiring Medigap for disabled people and while I know it is possible it isn't possible in this county.
This is going to make some decisions for me. I need to have ankle surgery and I need to do it before too much more time passes as my ankle is turning in more and more and my achilles is getting tight. As I understand this surgery it requires quite a bit of physical therapy. I am going to be better off to be on home health to get that than to go to outpatient. Which is probably fine; I probably will be homebound then anyway more or less and it pays 100%. But I just never thought that this would be something I'd need. Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Hopeful
I saw the dentist today. My tooth is not infected but based on several things he feels that it is dying and it is time for a root canal. This was further indicated by the 10/12 days of migraines lately. He thinks it is likely that the tooth is contributing. So, between the supplements I'm slowly adding to my daily pile o' pills (and for the next week or 2 antibiotics) there is hope that I'll get some pain relief soon without needing too many $35 pills (before the discount I hope still works).
The tooth may not be salvageable. It has a crown already because of a deep crack from grinding. If it is too destroyed in there I'm going to lose the tooth which will lead to further expenses in getting some kind of fake tooth. That disturbs me; we already are anticipating dental troubles and this is kinda my fault a little in that I'm not good at wearing my bite guard. That is only partly my fault and partly it is a consequence of sexual abuse and the dentist knows this (without an actual discussion; gagging just goes with it) but at the same time I know my teeth are at risk because of the constant dry mouth along with grinding and I can't afford to start losing them now. If it can be saved there is still the really fun question of "can this crown handle drilling?". If it can't I'm out about double the money for a new one. Monday, November 18, 2013
All is not lost-medication redemption maybe
I saw Dr. Brain this weekend. As always she is willing to spend time to make things work, which the neurologist didn't. I don't expect her to, it just would have helped to be sure that I had a script I could pay for before sending me away for 3 months.
Dr. Brain tried pricing every triptan (migraine med group) and then cross-checking with my ability to pay. They are all horribly expensive. The best she found was still more than I could pay. I left knowing that I was going to be able to buy about 1/month and hope I hit the worst headache with it. She did clear me to take some supplements from the list the neuro provided and said another patient who has similar symptoms of bipolar plus similar med issues and migraines just started the same group of supplements and is doing well. I had asked about magnesium in the past and Dr. Body wasn't thrilled because of my wobbly electrolytes. But looking back at them I have stayed very stable at the low end of normal so I'm on magnesium now. It isn't supposed to be a laxative dose but I will be cutting back on my prescription laxative tomorrow. If it is handled ok then I'll be adding melatonin and Co-enzyme Q10, one at a time. Friday, November 15, 2013
No wonder I was grouchy
I now have a reason for my grouchiness and removed post from last night. I have: a migraine, day 2 and I've had one for 9 days of the last 11 including one of the worst ever last night; a toothache; and a cold with a fever. Oh, and somehow I have misplaced my cell phone in my bed and I don't feel like moving to find it.
I also was looking for my thermometer and brought over a little bag that has toothpaste, a comb, etc. that I use when I travel. Toiletries bag? Whatever. I had blown my nose and was sitting her wondering why it smelled like the psych unit. That bag has absorbed the scent, probably from being in a dresser drawer each time. How weird, a little way to visit 6N from my own home. Yippee.Sorry
I posted something last night, now removed, about insurance in which I was pretty impatient with views other than mine and my lack of tolerance. I apologize. Yesterday was a very rough day and I wasn't fair. I did not say what I meant well at all and for that I apologize.
Copyright 2006 www.masterofirony.blogspot.com
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Waste of time
I am writing this from an extremely grouchy place. I got a migraine on migraine assessment day. Unfortunately it was a very bad one and they kept shining lights in my eye. Then I stupidly thought I could drive home before it got worse and that didn't happen. It's still annoying me but doesn't seem to be getting worse.
I got good news, I thought. I can take a couple of triptans to stop the migraines as long as Dr. Brain approves. Unfortunately they didn't take the time to see if patient assistance would cover them and if I am eligible. One company covers it but I'm just over the line. The other company I'm eligible for assistance but the triptan isn't offered. The one I was prescribed is $400 for a month's supply. With a discount. The other one is just as expensive. So they sent me home with nothing useful except 2 free pills.Yippee. That probably won't get me through the next 3 months until I have insurance. Not trying these means that I will presumably not be eligible for Botox when I go back, because I think I have to have failed on these. And perhaps in 3 months when I can actually try them they'll work. Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Teeth
There is a lot of information out there, and even on this blog, about side effects of psych meds. One that gets ignored a lot is the damage to teeth. Having dry mouth all the time is hard on your teeth.
I am fortunate to have a dentist who is knowledgeable about psych meds because his brother is also bipolar. So when I first went to see him and my front teeth had something like 28 cavities/pre-cavities because of years of vomiting from lamictal and lithium and then 6 months of vomiting daily from lithium toxicity, he didn't blink, he just fixed them. My front teeth are great looking but they are mostly porcelain. In the first week I knew my dentist I had those 4 teeth repaired and then numerous other fillings. I was in their office daily for a week.Thursday, November 07, 2013
Insurance-My thoughts
This is a very divisive issue right now and I don't mean to offend anyone as I'm positive some of you won't agree with me. But I am going to post this because somehow this insurance thing has become less of a narrative and more like 2 sides of a very tall wall.
I babysat my nieces today and happened to be there when the insurance statement for Geraldine's surgery arrived. My brother-in-law told my sister and I the total and that they didn't have to pay any of it because they'd met their deductible/out-of-pocket, probably with my sister's surgery 3 weeks before Geraldine's. My sister was horrified at the cost and then burst into tears. "What," she said, "would we have done without insurance?".Wednesday, November 06, 2013
Ongoing
I am still not doing very well. My moods change rapidly and drastically and underneath is a depression that makes me want to sleep all the time. The combination of time change, med change and time of year just weren't good.
I kept telling Dr. Mind "I know my light box is in a box labelled with that. I don't know why I didn't keep it out. I need it." He gently suggested doing whatever was needed to retrieve it ASAP. My mom and I went to the storage unit and I dug around and found boxes from the right part of the house but not any that said anything about the light. Finally I gave in and opened "medical supplies", which translated into "asthma gear for when I'm actually sick". At the last minute I opened "items from chest" and there, clearly NOT labelled anything relevant to SAD lamp was the lamp.If I weren't so tired some of this wouldn't matter. I know that. But I AM this time and I really just want to sleep, not apologize from being grouchy all the time, not try to explain why I am cycling.
Friday, November 01, 2013
That's the end of that
Last night I didn't take any topamax. I wanted to see what happened if my blood levels dropped off significantly. And what happened was what I didn't want to happen and yet did.
It looks like the paranoia and maybe the mixed episode was the topamax and not just my brain. With a lot less in my system I felt a lot better today. Little to no paranoia, manageable mood swings. And at this time of year manageable mood swings don't bother or surprise me, especially this year because my SAD lamp is packed in my storage unit. So I guess I'm done with topamax unless things happen in some order that makes Dr. Brain agree to re-try it in a few weeks. I don't think that's likely. Paranoia to the point I'm scaring myself is a pretty good sign there is a problem.I'm hoping that I will not get significantly worse. I'm sure that there will be some changes but I'd like to be able to keep working on the more advanced counseling topic we've been trying to handle lately.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Bam
I had a migraine that started Friday and Tuesday was the first day without any symptoms. Sometimes migraines make me a little hypomanic, probably related to a lack of sleep. I had at least one night and maybe 2 when I felt too bad to sleep. I ignored how I felt until today when I realized I was EXTREMELY irritable and also getting quite paranoid. My hypomania had become a mixed episode.
I think that I noticed it more quickly than I might have in the past because this respite has been the first in so long. The paranoia was significant though. First I was very upset because gold hardware/knobs were used on the interior doors in my house when I requested silver because I do not like gold. It's just a me thing, gold isn't my favorite. I had requested this several times and I felt totally ignored. I felt myself blowing it totally out of proportion. At absolute worst I spent $30 and spend a day redoing it. Life goes on. Then I called my mom at my sister's and she was weird on the phone and texted about "something going on" or something. At first I was sure that I had done something terrible and would never see the girls again. This in spite of the fact I'm scheduled to watch them Friday. I even thought about the suicide attempt that would go with that. It scared me. And then it got even worse because I became certain that Geraldine's tumor markers were back and were elevated. That led to a crash course in recurrence of her tumor. It recurs more than I'd like but not for months after surgery. So I can relax there. I'm not sure they even test for the markers yet. It turned out to be a very stressed sister needed help being 3 places at once.Thursday, October 24, 2013
Ceilings
There's no deep meaning in that title. I am so stressed about ceilings. Yesterday I had an early phone call from the construction company. She said that the drywall man usually does a mild texture on ceilings and did I want this. I thought a minute, decided I liked the texture at my old house and said yes. It turns out that my mom adamently opposed textured ceilings because they are out of date and she is afraid they'll hurt the property value. I honestly can't see that happening; nobody is going to say "I like the entire property but I hate the ceilings in the mother-in-law apartment so I won't buy it" and I honestly dont see someone even caring. It's not like it's the primary part of the house. But because my mom had told the construction workers she wanted smooth ceilings she feels like she was ignored and she is frustrated. I feel completely guilty that I didn't call her at my sister's but up to now she's generally said "it's your home, you decide". I'm very happy with it. And I can't see how it is out of date if the drywall guy usually does the texture.
The whole house is frustrating now. The heat pump is partially in but can't be completed until we have electricity. Mom called about that months ago and was told to just call when ready, it was an easy hook-up. We were ready this week and suddenly we have to have an inspection and then be on a waiting list for a transformer that could have been done months ago had anyone mentioned it. They called today while we were gone and made it sound like we missed our chance by not being here. Then there is the septic issue. The contractors were trying to quietly just link mine into mom's. The inspector caught us. After some discussions that included the county agency contacting the state it turns out that if we had contacted them prior to building we could have gotten some grant $ because of my disability. Now the only grant money we could get I make a tiny bit too much to receive. They are working with our plumber to try to find the least expensive solution. They had another meeting with him yesterday but we don't know results. So pretty much we start our 3rd month of construction in 3 days and I am still a long way from getting in.Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Tip for the completely insensitive
Which I know none of my readers are. I just want this to be out in the world so that maybe someone insensitive will read it before saying something similar.
I was on the phone with someone as close to family as you can be without being actually related and I said something about how shocking Geraldine's diagnosis was because we were all sure her test would be normal because Anne's test for the same thing was normal. And then it wasn't.
And this person said "Well, she's going to have more problems."I was on the phone with someone as close to family as you can be without being actually related and I said something about how shocking Geraldine's diagnosis was because we were all sure her test would be normal because Anne's test for the same thing was normal. And then it wasn't.
Well
I had a bit of a surprise yesterday. I saw Dr. Mind and he let me know that if I wanted to I could try to cut back to 3 visits per month. I'm not interested but it's one more thing that doesn't seem at all real after being so sick for so long. I have things I want to work on and while I'm not sure he thinks I'm going to make enough progress to be happy about it I want to try. Also I just don't think that 7 weeks of doing well is incredibly significant compared to 2 /2 years of being so sick. I know he's saying that because I haven't had much to say for a while and I guess I was just taking a break that is now over, but we needed a break. I am much happier with him now that we aren't fighting frequently. I know that he was right in our final, I completely lost it, disagreement, but I don't like admitting it. However he unintentionally made me so angry that I stopped being that angry and let the anger out instead of being so bitter. The other thing that is stopping me is just that I'm on so little topamax. It's helping and that's fabulous but I'm not sure I'll get to enough to expect the dose to last. After months of working on this dose I'm on a whopping 37.5 mg. We're going to be pleased if I get to 50 mg but 100 mg or much more is needed for it to really work and the higher the dose the more risk of cognitive problems which I'm at increased risk for because I've had so much trouble in the past. I just don't trust this yet. It's great that it is helping and I think if it fails it opens the door to trying one other med which I can't remember the name of but which is also a weak mood stabilizer that is good for some people. I don't know if I can afford it but (hold your breath): I HAVE A MEDICARE CARD!!!!!!! It's just paper until February 1 but I HAVE A MEDICARE CARD!!!!!
I've been spending money fast enough to horrify me. I went to Ikea and got a lot of things needed for the new house. Consolidating and making up for things I've made do without for years meant I needed some furniture and closet organizers. I really did well considering that I got everything for what it would cost to buy just a couch at a furniture store. Obviously it won't last forever but it will be fine and putting things together should keep me busy for a month or so. I got brave enough to see what that did to my budget today and it was ok. I still have enough for appliances and have left-over for things like curtains, my first ever new and not wobbly ironing board. I have appliances ordered and still have the money to pay for them without disturbing the fund for when things go wrong with the construction (like needing a septic system). And I still have money for curtains, cleaners, and a few things that will be sure to pop up and if not I'll be able to buy Christmas presents.Otherwise not a lot to say. Dogsitting today and tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm hoping to feel up to doing a few things like the bank, post office, paint store and assembling a chair or two. We'll see. A weekend with the nieces took a lot of energy. Sweet, sweet little girls...
Friday, October 18, 2013
No attorneys this time
I had a comment on a prior post that was comment spam and as I addressed it I decided to post it. The post was one of my sidebar ones and is about the process by which I obtained social security disability. For those who don't know I applied in February and was approved in April through a process that puts information into the reviewers' computer system and if the computer determines that you absolutely will be approved you are not reviewed as closely by people, saving time and money on their part and knocking what is usually years off the approval process. Not many psych patients are approved this way and it was a complete shock when I was. I believe I made the reviewer tell me 4 times. But the comment seemed to be more of a post, so here it is. And by the way, I am using paragraphs but blogger isn't following through on my orders for some reason. Sorry about that.
Lest there is more comment spam that I don't catch: I DID NOT USE AN ATTORNEY.
I do not necessarily think this is the route for everyone, but for me it was the right thing to do. I did a lot of research prior to deciding that I could do the first step without assistance. The reason that I decided that is that I was professionally trained in filling out government forms and in analyzing people's abilities and need for assistance. There was nothing in the first round that was not beyond the scope of what I did for 11 years as an OT and so I was comfortable trying on my own.
I also knew that most people fail the first step just on general reviewer principle and so I decided to not spend money on an attorney at this point. I didn't think it was going to make much difference.
And I was right, although not in the way I thought I would be. The way that I was approved meant that little that I did had much meaning. I was approved because the computer read my doctor's forms and hospital records and spit out something that indicated there was no chance I wasn't going to be approved via mathematical formula. And so I was approved before undergoing the usually process. An attorney wouldn't have mattered any more than paperwork from my cat would have. There's no way to know that your claim will trigger this as not many do, but when it happens it is your history that matters. When I started filing Dr. Brain showed me just a small portion of the written files she had for me and she had many years of computer files plus 3 long hospitalizations on the psych unit and one medical hospitalization with a battle of psych symptoms with psych and medical staff. She said she had documented for years with the knowledge that the records might someday be needed for this. Dr. Mind's office had another enormous file.
It was those things and not an attorney that worked so fast for me. I am all for using an attorney if you feel safer. Most people probably should. Most people haven't evaluated people's independence for years prior to applying. This was just something God prepared me for.
Copyright 2006 www.masterofirony.blogspot.com
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Reverse Hibernation
This is the time of year most animals are settling in to hibernate. Usually it is the time I am joining them by beginning to use my sun lamp. Unfortunately I packed that into my storage unit so I won't have it until a little later this year.
But instead of hibernating a strange and wonderous thing is happening here. The Topamax is continuing to help my mood and anxiety and I am feeling better than I have in 2 1/2 years. Saturday, October 05, 2013
Nellie Bly and I
I just finished reading a book called "<i>Ten Days in a Mad-House</i>" by Nellie Bly. It made me think more than I have in a while about what I have even when I feel like I've lost so much (and I have).
Nellie Bly was a female investigative reporter when such things were not heard of. In the 1880s she was assigned to feign mental illness and spend time as a patient in an insane asylum in New York City called Blackwell's Island. (Incidentally now all that remains of the institution is the grand staircase which has been renovated and incorporated into just what you'd expect....apartments...). After her report was published a grand jury undertook an evaluation of the asylum's care and the process by which a woman might be sent there. As a result nearly $1 million per year was added to the budget of Blackwell's Island Asylum.
It's a fascinating read regardless of your experiences with psychiatric care. It's mind-boggling to compare it to care today, especially as an experienced patient (I have a total of a month on a unit accumulated over the last 4 years so I'm very experienced). It is common knowledge that inpatient psychiatric care is not where anyone wants to be. For many years I fought as hard as possible to avoid it because it sounded terrifying. As in many aspects of treatment I was fortunate to avoid it for as long as I did and I owe several people who have treated me a great deal for that.
I want to write about some of the today versus yesterday and my own experiences. I have spent nearly an accumulated month on the psych unit in the last few years and so I feel well-acquainted with what happens there.
<b>Admission</b>
Nellie Bly: For the author to be admitted she had to convince 2 doctors she was "insane". She practiced making faces that she thought might promote this belief in the mirror for an evening then went to a boarding house and behaved in a fashion we would probably just pass off as "odd". In that time she actually frightened people who called the police who took her to a judge who ordered psychiatric evaluations and that she be presented in the newspapers to see if anyone would claim her or know who she was. She was taken to Bellevue and spent a night there seeing various psychiatrists and then was sent to Blackwell Island. Upon arrival at Blackwell she was told she would be there forever. No introductions or explanations were given; she and the others who came with her were simply told to sit in a room with a bunch of other women. It didn't take much to be admitted then; women especially were admitted for things such as disagreements with their husbands, for having interests different than expected of contemporary women, for not getting pregnant, during menopause or if their husbands wanted to take up with a younger woman and didn't want to look bad.
Me:
I first must wonder what would happen to me if people had such low tolerances for unusual behavior. I can be in public without anyone knowing that something is abnormal. I also sometimes obviously have problems. Socially I am often out of sync. There are skills I just don't have and there are things that are very hard for me because I don't think rapidly enough or in a normal sequence. (Or I think too fast and that often shows). I often repeat things to myself and sometimes wind up muttering to myself, either my list or trying to remember what I was remembering. I dress very casually and look somewhat unkempt. I tell myself it is because I need to lose weight and don't have a lot of clothing options because things are packed in the storage unit out of reach but the truth is that I don't care and being overweight from meds and not exercising because of depression has just made me want to hide my body even more. Then there is my limp and ankle brace. It all comes together to say "not quite normal".
My admissions are easier than most people who have to go to the ER. This could happen to me but so far I've avoided it. My hospital has a 10 bed mood disorder unit and I have spent each stay there. There is always a specific reason, either a med change that can't be done safely outside or I have become a danger to myself in a way that can't be safely managed without 24 hour care. I have an easier admission process because my psychiatrist is an attending so she simply calls the head of the unit, asks him to take me for whatever reason, he says yes and I go to the admission desk, sign away my rights on special green-edged forms and am taken upstairs. Those green forms are voluntary commitment papers that say I know I will be admitted to a locked unit for treatment. I state that if I ask to be discharged that they may keep me for an additional period of time (3 days?1 day?) to allow them to procure court orders if desired and I give permission for involuntary medication and physical restraints if I would become out of control. That is drastically different from "you've been acting oddly so here's your lifetime sentence". I always find it strange that I sign those forms and then am left alone to wait for several minutes for someone to come take me to the psych unit.
Nellie was not given any choices from the time she was observed being "odd". I have always been given the choice to admit myself. There was once when I was newly diagnosed and saw a new psychiatrist who insisted I should be admitted and when I refused pulled out the forms to involuntarily admit me while threatening me with all the ways that was worse. I yelled at her (not smart I now admit) until I got out enough terminology for her to know that I was going to fight the admission and that I would win. I did learn that day that the term "pink slipping" used for involuntary admissions is based on a pink form. There was also a time in 2011 that I started hallucinating and told Drs. Brain and Mind. I was sent to the non-psych ER because Dr. Brain thought it was neurological (lithium toxicity). I was promptly screened by a psychiatric nurse and placed in a psychiatric ER room (it had a stretcher and table that was hard to move and nothing else; they even removed an IV pole and the sink was outside the door. It had a little window covered by a strip of leather outside that they peeked into every few minutes. It was very safe and quiet which was nice.) I knew that I would be transferred to the psychiatric hospital if it wasn't and in that case if I'd refused admission I probably would have been pink-slipped. However I was ready to admit myself anywhere that made the hallucinations stop, and it wasn't an issue anyway because as Dr. Brain expected I was very lithium toxic and after 2 liters of fluid the hallucinations slowed and after about 5 liters they were gone. That is another great difference; every admission I've had has ruled out physical reasons for my issues. Nellie's doctors did not care.
<b>Orientation</b>
Nellie Bly: There wasn't one. Everything that happened her first day was one surprise after another. She never knew what to expect and aside from meals there were few routines to her day.
Me: Every time I'm admitted they review the unit with me. It's goofy because it's hard to forget since it is so small, but they do. I'm shown where the snacks are, where to find the list of supplemental foods that can be added to meal trays, where the computer is, which remote operates the TV, where the Wii is and how to get the disk for it, where both conference rooms are, where the laundry is and the shower room. They review when I'm allowed to make and receive phone calls, where meals and groups are and when. They find my roommate and introduce her. Much of this is provided in writing as well.
<b>Environment</b>
Nellie Bly: It was filthy. Patients were made to do some cleaning but there was no emphasis on having a well-cared for space. The nurses did not do anything but control their inmates and often were abusive. There wasn't anything like a housekeeping staff. It was very loud and not relaxing.
Me: It is very clean. A housekeeper spends at least half the if not all day on the unit. Trash bags are actually brown paper bags so liquids are messy and this is managed. Floors are cleaned every other day minimum. Clean bedding is available any time you ask for it. The unit is designed to be as friendly as possible. The nurses station has inch thick safety plastic all over it but they decorate the inside. Patient rooms are bland but personal items or artwork can be hung up which helps greatly. The other 2 rooms where we spend time, the activity room/dining room and the conference room are airy and there are always posters and therapy related information posted. One thing I had to get used to my first time was that the mood disorder unit is divided from gero-pysch by locked double doors and you hear noises from the other side. Because I worked on dementia units for so long they are familiar noises but it is still unsettling to hear someone banging on the other side of the door and screaming. The staff respond when this happens but it is frequent. There are overhead pages which I can find stressful because I know what the codes mean and I think too much about what is happening elsewhere.
<b>Length of Stay</b>
Nellie Bly: Admission was forever, for nearly everyone. To leave did not require an improved condition, it required someone to take over responsibility for the patient. People were committed for many things, including not speaking English, not obeying one's husband, not following the right religious practice, poverty, physical illnesses that were too draining on family, public displays of anger or other strong emotions, and many other non-psychiatric things. Miss Bly stated that by the time she left Bellevue she was certain that no doctor knew how to determine if someone was insane. She saw doctors frequently during her time on Blackwell's Island but none considered that she had nothing wrong with her, despite the fact that from the time she stepped onto the island she acted her normal self without fail. This was just considered proof that she was delusional and seeing herself well when she wasn't.
Me: 6 days per week I see a psychiatrist. The goal is to stabilize and discharge and they have some idea about discharge goals from the beginning. This can be adjusted; my last stay on Wednesday I found out that I was to go home Friday and decided that I needed to be more explicit about my suicidal risk level and that kept me in the hospital for a little over a week longer. The last time it was agreed that I would attend an intensive outpatient program after discharge and time was spent discussing this, although it didn't happen because a program that met my needs wasn't within driving distance. Every day they assess my meds and adjust those. On the unit where I go you generally are there 5-7 days. I've ranged from 7 to 11. The last admission they didn't talk about homegoing much until I was not so dangerous to myself and then I had to have safety plans in place before I could go. I've been able to request to be discharged a day or two from the original plan based on when I would be seeing Dr. Mind.
The emphasis on discharge is partly for insurance as it costs something like $1700/day to be in a psych bed. It's also because being home and living life is better for us that an insulated, sheltered life. They are aggressive with meds so that you leave ASAP.
<b>Room</b>
Nellie Bly:
She was locked at night in a room with a barred window and a bed with a straw mattress that was very uncomfortable. She had only a light slip to wear and her bed was made with an oilcloth under the bottom sheet, then a top sheet and a single wool blanket that did not cover her. There wasn't heat despite it being nearly October and she was denied requests for more clothing or another blanket.
Me:
The unit where I stay is always icy; it is an old building. I haven't been in there in the summer but I suspect it is cold then too. I wear layers all the time and at night after I shower I'm more cold. However I have the blessing of as many blankets as I want as well as being able to add a sweatshirt if I desire. I have my own clothing and the choice of what I want to wear. All I have to do is ask to get into the linen closet and I have access to blankets and clean sheets that I can change whenever I choose. The doors to the room close but at night when they think you are sleeping they crack the door which always wakes me up. The bed by the door does not have a curtain and is much less private. During my last stay I was put on line-of-sight supervision because of how suicidal I was and the curtainless bed was how that was achieved. It was awful and I was awake all night. The beds are hospital beds, complete with memory foam topped mattresses and electric adjustments that make it easy to make the bed into a comfortable place to sit and read. The beds aren't extremely comfortable but I never like any mattress but my own so that's meaningless. There are 4 double rooms and two singles. I had a single for my first stay and both of my other stays have divided time with having a roommate and being alone in a double. My last roommate was sexually inappropriate with her boyfriend and I am more anxious about roommates in future stays than anything else.
<b>Food</b>
Nellie Bly:
Like so many things the inmates of the asylum were expected to endure awful food because they were accepting charity. Meals consisted of weak tea, bread which was described as mostly hardened dough and which at least once contained a spider, weak broth, and soups made with spoiled meat. She wrote that after 2 days of being given salted food there was no further salt and foods were flavored with vinegar or mustard, which only made it worse.
Me:
The food is not THAT bad although it is not good. Throughout Cleveland Clinic patients choose food from a menu that is like a restaurant's. If you make certain selections it is actually quite good. However, psychiatric patients are not given this choice presumably in favor of keeping life simple. Instead there are 2 main selections at each meal and then you choose vegetables, drinks, sides, etc. In general this food is not very appetizing. There are not many meals in the rotation so every time I've been in there I've seen 2 rotations and once 3. Food is served with the most flimsy plastic utensils you can imagine. That is for safety but I have joked more than once that they should have to be able to cut the food with our utensils before they can serve it. Fortunately there is an alternatives menu which can be used for any meal. It is mostly hamburgers, hot dogs, French fries and other more junky foods but there is also a cottage cheese and fruit plate that I usually eat at least once and sometimes twice daily. It is usually pretty good although in December the fruit was pretty limited. I was there for Christmas once and they served fancier foods (prime rib and I think some kind of stuffed salmon) but mostly it was regular fare with fancy names (ie, holiday cocktail equals fruit cocktail) and that was depressing. I've had a rough time getting what I've ordered on an anything like consistent basis unless it is my cottage cheese and fruit staple. Once I started to drink my tea (it is so cold hot beverages are a great pleasure at meals) and realized it was caffeinated. Not only are psych patients not allowed caffeine I had not had any in 4 years and since I was already severely agitated drinking that could have made me even more so. Since then I check everything carefully. There are plenty of snacks around and nobody goes hungry. Snacks usually include cereals, cookies, crackers, pudding cups, jello cups, fruit sometimes, and any beverage imaginable, although they don't have caffeinated drinks and more recently haven't had sugared sodas either.
<b>Medications</b>
Nellie Bly: There wasn't much medicating done at Blackwells. Nellie was forced to take a liquid medication she thought was choral hydrate once but she spit it out. Had she not taken it orally she was told it would be injected. She had no idea why this heavy sedative was given.
Me: Medications are the focus of the stay for most people; the others are there for ECT (electroconvulsive shock therapy). Meds are dispensed regularly throughout the day. I am on thyroid replacement so I am wakened at 6:30 for my first dose of the day and nighttime meds are given at 9 pm. Meds cannot be forced without a court order and that wouldn't happen on my unit (except for emergencies which also don't happen very often on my unit). One thing that changed since my first stay is that there is an order to give a shot of Haldol, a powerful anti-psychotic, if someone becomes very upset or agitated. I somewhat suspect that I had a role in this as my first stay I was not ordered anything for agitation beyond my usual meds. One day I checked my email to find my company accepting my resignation. It was an error but I did not know that for several hours and it took both nurses quite a long time to get me calm at all after another patient ran for help as I had a huge panic attack. It also took a long time to find a doctor to order meds to help me calm. It was enough that one of the nurses remembered it clearly 2 years later. Then a day or two later I again became extremely upset and thanks to a series of odd circumstances didn't get/find help for a long time. They had to get medication ordered again and it was again an ordeal because I was beyond reason and required both nurses attention for quite a while. (To be fair this could have been avoided if the tech had noticed that I was a mess and in bad shape and had gotten me help rather than offering to tell me a joke when he found me sobbing with used Kleenex everywhere while the nurses were doing a discharge and I couldn't get to them without having everyone on the unit see that I was freaking out, again.)
<b>Bathing</b>
Nellie Bly: Bathing was not frequent and this was probably for the best. Her first night she was forced to undress in front of many other women and forced into a tub of cold water. Another, highly symptomatic, patient roughly scrubbed her and then threw 3 bucketfuls of icy water over her head and face. Bath water was re-used over and over until it was filthy. After this there was a daily chance to wash her face in icy water that was also re-used numerous times and then she was expected to use one of two towels shared by all the patients. Nellie chose to use the hem of her under-dress instead.
Me: Showers are not my favorite part of my stay. However they are warm and private. You get into the room by asking the nurse who unlocks the room and makes sure you have towels, washcloths and absorbent pads used as bathmats. The water takes quite a while to get warm and has to be used at the hottest setting. The shower itself is odd as it is designed to prevent people from having any way of hanging themselves from the shower head. There is barely a pipe coming out of the wall at all and you can't adjust the nozzle position. Tall people probably hate it. The shower is designed for handicap access so there is a lot of extra space that makes it harder to really get and stay warm. They provide soap although I always bring my own. I always am afraid that someone will unlock and open the door, which never happens and which they guard against but it would be awful if it happened. You are allowed to shave without a staff member in the room but not directly staring at you. I think that this is adjusted based on your suicide risk and I'm not sure I'd have been allowed my last stay without direct supervision. I've seen people be upset by this because different nurses enforce the rule differently. I choose not to bother. During my 2nd hospitalization I was sent to shower to try to calm myself several times a day (they suggested, not required this) and I became more comfortable. However, it is not home. I always choose to shower at night because I don't have worry about anyone waiting for me to be done then and I don't have to wait to get dressed before breakfast.
<b>Clothing</b>
Nellie Bly: After the first day her own clothing was taken and she was forced to dress in ill-fitting garments that were not sufficiently warm for the temperatures in the facility. No additional clothing was provided when the patients were cold. They were given hats to wear when taken outside for their daily walk.
Me: I am allowed to wear clothing from home. They reserve the right to take shoestrings but usually just ask that you have your shoes locked up when not wearing them. I never wear shoes from admission to discharge because I hate shoes anyway. I wear either slippers or just socks with non-skid socks on top. They asked that you not bring much clothing; I always have more than they'd probably prefer simply because I bring things to layer because of the cold.
<b>How time is spent</b>
Nellie Bly: This could be summed up in 2 words: she sat. All the patients were forced to sit on hard benches for 14 hours per day. There was a piano which Nellie played once but it was severely out of tune and she found no pleasure in this. The women had a daily walk outside where they encountered the sickest patients in the asylum, all of whom were banded together with leather straps. Nellie seems to have spent a lot of time talking to other patients to gather their stories for her report and this did not seem to have met with disapproval. Nellie saw a doctor daily and seemed to see other doctors at times. However nothing she said to the doctors was believed as they attributed everything they did not like to delusions.
Me: Psych stays are a mix of groups and down time. There are usually 2-3 occupational therapy groups per day and other groups vary. Twice a week is group therapy with the social worker. I don't get along well with her and I usually hate this group because I find her smug and condescending and if I say something I can tell she doesn't like me. Art therapy is my favorite. As an OT I probably shouldn't say that but OT groups while wonderfully done sometimes cover ground that I've done in my own group sessions and that becomes boring. Art therapy is really something I thought was kind of dumb before I tried it and found that I inevitably leave with new insights and often art therapy has been when the biggest things came out of my mouth unexpectedly. Once or twice a week a health educator conducts groups about personal responsibility and coping with illness. He is the best group leader I've ever encountered in any setting, with an ability to make every person feel like he was paying total attention to them. He likes to tease me for some reason but the last time I saw him I had said for the first time that I was not going to be able to work. At the end he made a point of telling me he knew what I was losing and he was sorry. It was the kindest thing because he didn't have to remember the details of my chart or even realize that everyone but me knew that I couldn't work anymore and that I was saying this pretty much for the first time in that group. Other groups are more educational and I usually find them boring. Nutrition group would be fine except that I don't care about nutrition when I'm that sick and the one time I needed a nutritionist (when I started the MAOI diet) she refused to see me because she disagreed with my doctor about the required diet and restricted my foods to the point of not letting me have vegetables. I do always wish to go outside. It's not possible in the building where I am hospitalized and it's hard because it's a small space (163 steps to go around completely). You can't see outside well because there is a heavy mesh inside the windows and safety glass outside that is blurry. So light comes in but you have to work hard to see Lake Erie which is nearby or to see this beautiful church which is visible from the bedrooms. There are 2 visiting periods each day, one after lunch and one in the evening and more on weekends. Weekends are boring and the 3 day weekend for Christmas in 2012 was exceedingly boring, yet we played games, did crafts and read. One weekend when I had severe agitation I had a 1:1 aide for one shift/day to give me things to do to help me sit in a chair and try to do something besides pace, and in the evening the nurse spent a few more hours with me. They really try to keep people engaged. I spend vast amounts of time writing. I try to write everything that happens; my last stay filled one and a half notebooks. Phones calls can be made or received during times not set aside for groups. You can't dial the phone; you have to ask the receptionist to dial out for you and you are paged if a call comes for you. Cell phones aren't allowed; neither are ereaders, iPods, etc. There are things to keep you amused during down times: books, a computer you have to take turns on, a Wii, DVDs, TV, games, coloring supplies (I always color despite hating it because it helps me focus), art supplies although many need supervision for use, exercise mats, and general socialization with the other patients. That varies from great to not happening. I always ask for and am given permission to call in for phone therapy sessions once or twice per week with Dr. Mind. The inpatient doctor says that the staff consistently see me doing better after those so they are really great about setting me up in a conference room for the calls.
<b>Staff</b>
Nellie Bly: The nurses were abusive. The doctors were dismissive. If you were in the asylum you were hopeless and could not be believed about anything. The staff looked down on the patients and considered them "charity cases" who should not ask for anything and who did not deserve anything. The staff were eating good fresh food while the patients were given terrible quality, spoiled, insect ridden foods.
Me: There is almost no turnover on my unit. The nurses have nearly all seen me through all 3 hospitalizations and know me fairly well. They are generally wonderful. I haven't been there in 18 months but they still ask my psychiatrist about me when she is on call. The nurses are generally very kind and I have had them do exceptional things such as staying with me for a couple hours the day I was first there and was scared and couldn't stop crying. When I received an email that accepted my resignation from my job (an error) I had a panic attack and both nurses worked with me to calm me and help me find out what really was happening. When I was terribly agitated, beyond description, with a movement disorder called akasthesia for days the nurses did everything they could including assigning a 1:1 aide to keep me doing crafts for an entire shift. When we couldn't find a hook to finish pot-holders a nurse spent over an hour finding medical stuff that could be used. Another nurse in that time got me into hot showers over and over to help me relax a little. I did groups standing up or sitting in a desk chair so I could swivel and rock. Everyone made a big deal the first time I made it through a group in a regular chair without leaving to pace. A nurse about my age always takes time to talk to me and let me feel like a healthcare professional.
Having said that there is one nurse who I strongly dislike and most patients feel the same way. Even my psychiatrist has confirmed that but whispered conversations in the hall have proven it. The worst thing she did to me was when I was agitated and not due for Ativan she gave me my Seroquel instead. Seroquel is my heavy hitter for sleep and because sleep is so hard for me I've been taught that you do not fight off the drugs. So I went to bed. She forced me to go a group after waking me then scolded me for crying. She got in trouble over this and doesn't like me much. My last stay she was my nurse (max of 5 patients) for nearly every night the stay which was close to 2 weeks. On day 10 she did not know my name. However she only seems to like people who suck up to her and I think she knows I don't like her and I find her fake and mean and that she likes to look very involved when she really likes to be involved with drama. I have seen one nurse lose her temper inappropriately but only once. Generally they are very kind. The most difficult thing that has ever happened with a nurse was that a nurse who didn't work on my unit normally thought that I pulled a pill out of my mouth and pocketed it. I had not but I had to be searched, questioned and my room was thoroughly searched as opposed to the usual brief scan they do each shift to be sure nobody brought anything bad in during visiting hours. That was humiliating but understandable and she was doing her job. I did touch my mouth and then probably put my hand into my hoodie pocket shortly after taking the pill so I could see where she became suspicious but I wanted the Ativan to work so I wasn't about to not take it. The moment was over quickly.
<b>Overall Experience</b>
Nellie Bly: There isn't much good to say about her experience. Her treatment was abusive and the so-called healthcare was abysmal. The doctors were so biased that they couldn't see her health. The patients were exploited, ignored, shamed, and treated with a complete lack of dignity. Nellie did not have the fully horrific experience that most women would have had since she knew that she would be rescued. Even so she had originally planned to spend time with the sickest patients and decided once she was there that this wasn't safe or wise. If a completely competent adult could not navigate the system I'm not sure how someone who was not entirely lucid and in control of herself could have survived long. I don't know the death rate for those patients but it must have been extremely high and being sent to the asylum must have been a death sentence.
Me: I do not like the hospital. I know every time I'm admitted that I will struggle. I am unlikely to sleep well no matter what meds are given. Only once were they able to keep me sleeping well. But that's a common enough problem for me that only part is the setting. If I have a roommate I struggle because I'm not used to sharing space and all my usual problems with not being able to cry or relax become issues. I truly dislike the one nurse and the social worker. On the other hand they saved my life 21 months ago. I went in there suicidal and they didn't quite realize how bad it was until I finally admitted that I had every intention to kill myself when released. I left at least willing to try a little long and able to say what I'd know for a month but couldn't say, that I was done working no matter how much I wanted to. Mostly I have been treated kindly. The other patients are generally nice enough although my situation is different than most and so sometimes I don't feel like I fit in. Overall though my experiences have been 95% positive and I am comfortable enough knowing that sometimes I'll need to be there and that it will be ok when that happens. If I never go back I'd be thrilled but realistically I will spend time on the 6th floor periodically.
<b>The End</b>
I believe our mental health system has a very long way to go. I think it is good to see how far we've come. Unfortunately I don't think we have another 130 years to correct what is wrong now. I believe if adequate care and follow-up is not available for mentally ill individuals that tragedies will continue. These tragedies have to be stopped sometime and I honestly don't know what it will take but I do know that until a commitment is made to stop them they will continue.
Copyright 2006 www.masterofirony.blogspot.com
Nellie Bly was a female investigative reporter when such things were not heard of. In the 1880s she was assigned to feign mental illness and spend time as a patient in an insane asylum in New York City called Blackwell's Island. (Incidentally now all that remains of the institution is the grand staircase which has been renovated and incorporated into just what you'd expect....apartments...). After her report was published a grand jury undertook an evaluation of the asylum's care and the process by which a woman might be sent there. As a result nearly $1 million per year was added to the budget of Blackwell's Island Asylum.
It's a fascinating read regardless of your experiences with psychiatric care. It's mind-boggling to compare it to care today, especially as an experienced patient (I have a total of a month on a unit accumulated over the last 4 years so I'm very experienced). It is common knowledge that inpatient psychiatric care is not where anyone wants to be. For many years I fought as hard as possible to avoid it because it sounded terrifying. As in many aspects of treatment I was fortunate to avoid it for as long as I did and I owe several people who have treated me a great deal for that.
I want to write about some of the today versus yesterday and my own experiences. I have spent nearly an accumulated month on the psych unit in the last few years and so I feel well-acquainted with what happens there.
<b>Admission</b>
Nellie Bly: For the author to be admitted she had to convince 2 doctors she was "insane". She practiced making faces that she thought might promote this belief in the mirror for an evening then went to a boarding house and behaved in a fashion we would probably just pass off as "odd". In that time she actually frightened people who called the police who took her to a judge who ordered psychiatric evaluations and that she be presented in the newspapers to see if anyone would claim her or know who she was. She was taken to Bellevue and spent a night there seeing various psychiatrists and then was sent to Blackwell Island. Upon arrival at Blackwell she was told she would be there forever. No introductions or explanations were given; she and the others who came with her were simply told to sit in a room with a bunch of other women. It didn't take much to be admitted then; women especially were admitted for things such as disagreements with their husbands, for having interests different than expected of contemporary women, for not getting pregnant, during menopause or if their husbands wanted to take up with a younger woman and didn't want to look bad.
Me:
I first must wonder what would happen to me if people had such low tolerances for unusual behavior. I can be in public without anyone knowing that something is abnormal. I also sometimes obviously have problems. Socially I am often out of sync. There are skills I just don't have and there are things that are very hard for me because I don't think rapidly enough or in a normal sequence. (Or I think too fast and that often shows). I often repeat things to myself and sometimes wind up muttering to myself, either my list or trying to remember what I was remembering. I dress very casually and look somewhat unkempt. I tell myself it is because I need to lose weight and don't have a lot of clothing options because things are packed in the storage unit out of reach but the truth is that I don't care and being overweight from meds and not exercising because of depression has just made me want to hide my body even more. Then there is my limp and ankle brace. It all comes together to say "not quite normal".
My admissions are easier than most people who have to go to the ER. This could happen to me but so far I've avoided it. My hospital has a 10 bed mood disorder unit and I have spent each stay there. There is always a specific reason, either a med change that can't be done safely outside or I have become a danger to myself in a way that can't be safely managed without 24 hour care. I have an easier admission process because my psychiatrist is an attending so she simply calls the head of the unit, asks him to take me for whatever reason, he says yes and I go to the admission desk, sign away my rights on special green-edged forms and am taken upstairs. Those green forms are voluntary commitment papers that say I know I will be admitted to a locked unit for treatment. I state that if I ask to be discharged that they may keep me for an additional period of time (3 days?1 day?) to allow them to procure court orders if desired and I give permission for involuntary medication and physical restraints if I would become out of control. That is drastically different from "you've been acting oddly so here's your lifetime sentence". I always find it strange that I sign those forms and then am left alone to wait for several minutes for someone to come take me to the psych unit.
Nellie was not given any choices from the time she was observed being "odd". I have always been given the choice to admit myself. There was once when I was newly diagnosed and saw a new psychiatrist who insisted I should be admitted and when I refused pulled out the forms to involuntarily admit me while threatening me with all the ways that was worse. I yelled at her (not smart I now admit) until I got out enough terminology for her to know that I was going to fight the admission and that I would win. I did learn that day that the term "pink slipping" used for involuntary admissions is based on a pink form. There was also a time in 2011 that I started hallucinating and told Drs. Brain and Mind. I was sent to the non-psych ER because Dr. Brain thought it was neurological (lithium toxicity). I was promptly screened by a psychiatric nurse and placed in a psychiatric ER room (it had a stretcher and table that was hard to move and nothing else; they even removed an IV pole and the sink was outside the door. It had a little window covered by a strip of leather outside that they peeked into every few minutes. It was very safe and quiet which was nice.) I knew that I would be transferred to the psychiatric hospital if it wasn't and in that case if I'd refused admission I probably would have been pink-slipped. However I was ready to admit myself anywhere that made the hallucinations stop, and it wasn't an issue anyway because as Dr. Brain expected I was very lithium toxic and after 2 liters of fluid the hallucinations slowed and after about 5 liters they were gone. That is another great difference; every admission I've had has ruled out physical reasons for my issues. Nellie's doctors did not care.
<b>Orientation</b>
Nellie Bly: There wasn't one. Everything that happened her first day was one surprise after another. She never knew what to expect and aside from meals there were few routines to her day.
Me: Every time I'm admitted they review the unit with me. It's goofy because it's hard to forget since it is so small, but they do. I'm shown where the snacks are, where to find the list of supplemental foods that can be added to meal trays, where the computer is, which remote operates the TV, where the Wii is and how to get the disk for it, where both conference rooms are, where the laundry is and the shower room. They review when I'm allowed to make and receive phone calls, where meals and groups are and when. They find my roommate and introduce her. Much of this is provided in writing as well.
<b>Environment</b>
Nellie Bly: It was filthy. Patients were made to do some cleaning but there was no emphasis on having a well-cared for space. The nurses did not do anything but control their inmates and often were abusive. There wasn't anything like a housekeeping staff. It was very loud and not relaxing.
Me: It is very clean. A housekeeper spends at least half the if not all day on the unit. Trash bags are actually brown paper bags so liquids are messy and this is managed. Floors are cleaned every other day minimum. Clean bedding is available any time you ask for it. The unit is designed to be as friendly as possible. The nurses station has inch thick safety plastic all over it but they decorate the inside. Patient rooms are bland but personal items or artwork can be hung up which helps greatly. The other 2 rooms where we spend time, the activity room/dining room and the conference room are airy and there are always posters and therapy related information posted. One thing I had to get used to my first time was that the mood disorder unit is divided from gero-pysch by locked double doors and you hear noises from the other side. Because I worked on dementia units for so long they are familiar noises but it is still unsettling to hear someone banging on the other side of the door and screaming. The staff respond when this happens but it is frequent. There are overhead pages which I can find stressful because I know what the codes mean and I think too much about what is happening elsewhere.
<b>Length of Stay</b>
Nellie Bly: Admission was forever, for nearly everyone. To leave did not require an improved condition, it required someone to take over responsibility for the patient. People were committed for many things, including not speaking English, not obeying one's husband, not following the right religious practice, poverty, physical illnesses that were too draining on family, public displays of anger or other strong emotions, and many other non-psychiatric things. Miss Bly stated that by the time she left Bellevue she was certain that no doctor knew how to determine if someone was insane. She saw doctors frequently during her time on Blackwell's Island but none considered that she had nothing wrong with her, despite the fact that from the time she stepped onto the island she acted her normal self without fail. This was just considered proof that she was delusional and seeing herself well when she wasn't.
Me: 6 days per week I see a psychiatrist. The goal is to stabilize and discharge and they have some idea about discharge goals from the beginning. This can be adjusted; my last stay on Wednesday I found out that I was to go home Friday and decided that I needed to be more explicit about my suicidal risk level and that kept me in the hospital for a little over a week longer. The last time it was agreed that I would attend an intensive outpatient program after discharge and time was spent discussing this, although it didn't happen because a program that met my needs wasn't within driving distance. Every day they assess my meds and adjust those. On the unit where I go you generally are there 5-7 days. I've ranged from 7 to 11. The last admission they didn't talk about homegoing much until I was not so dangerous to myself and then I had to have safety plans in place before I could go. I've been able to request to be discharged a day or two from the original plan based on when I would be seeing Dr. Mind.
The emphasis on discharge is partly for insurance as it costs something like $1700/day to be in a psych bed. It's also because being home and living life is better for us that an insulated, sheltered life. They are aggressive with meds so that you leave ASAP.
<b>Room</b>
Nellie Bly:
She was locked at night in a room with a barred window and a bed with a straw mattress that was very uncomfortable. She had only a light slip to wear and her bed was made with an oilcloth under the bottom sheet, then a top sheet and a single wool blanket that did not cover her. There wasn't heat despite it being nearly October and she was denied requests for more clothing or another blanket.
Me:
The unit where I stay is always icy; it is an old building. I haven't been in there in the summer but I suspect it is cold then too. I wear layers all the time and at night after I shower I'm more cold. However I have the blessing of as many blankets as I want as well as being able to add a sweatshirt if I desire. I have my own clothing and the choice of what I want to wear. All I have to do is ask to get into the linen closet and I have access to blankets and clean sheets that I can change whenever I choose. The doors to the room close but at night when they think you are sleeping they crack the door which always wakes me up. The bed by the door does not have a curtain and is much less private. During my last stay I was put on line-of-sight supervision because of how suicidal I was and the curtainless bed was how that was achieved. It was awful and I was awake all night. The beds are hospital beds, complete with memory foam topped mattresses and electric adjustments that make it easy to make the bed into a comfortable place to sit and read. The beds aren't extremely comfortable but I never like any mattress but my own so that's meaningless. There are 4 double rooms and two singles. I had a single for my first stay and both of my other stays have divided time with having a roommate and being alone in a double. My last roommate was sexually inappropriate with her boyfriend and I am more anxious about roommates in future stays than anything else.
<b>Food</b>
Nellie Bly:
Like so many things the inmates of the asylum were expected to endure awful food because they were accepting charity. Meals consisted of weak tea, bread which was described as mostly hardened dough and which at least once contained a spider, weak broth, and soups made with spoiled meat. She wrote that after 2 days of being given salted food there was no further salt and foods were flavored with vinegar or mustard, which only made it worse.
Me:
The food is not THAT bad although it is not good. Throughout Cleveland Clinic patients choose food from a menu that is like a restaurant's. If you make certain selections it is actually quite good. However, psychiatric patients are not given this choice presumably in favor of keeping life simple. Instead there are 2 main selections at each meal and then you choose vegetables, drinks, sides, etc. In general this food is not very appetizing. There are not many meals in the rotation so every time I've been in there I've seen 2 rotations and once 3. Food is served with the most flimsy plastic utensils you can imagine. That is for safety but I have joked more than once that they should have to be able to cut the food with our utensils before they can serve it. Fortunately there is an alternatives menu which can be used for any meal. It is mostly hamburgers, hot dogs, French fries and other more junky foods but there is also a cottage cheese and fruit plate that I usually eat at least once and sometimes twice daily. It is usually pretty good although in December the fruit was pretty limited. I was there for Christmas once and they served fancier foods (prime rib and I think some kind of stuffed salmon) but mostly it was regular fare with fancy names (ie, holiday cocktail equals fruit cocktail) and that was depressing. I've had a rough time getting what I've ordered on an anything like consistent basis unless it is my cottage cheese and fruit staple. Once I started to drink my tea (it is so cold hot beverages are a great pleasure at meals) and realized it was caffeinated. Not only are psych patients not allowed caffeine I had not had any in 4 years and since I was already severely agitated drinking that could have made me even more so. Since then I check everything carefully. There are plenty of snacks around and nobody goes hungry. Snacks usually include cereals, cookies, crackers, pudding cups, jello cups, fruit sometimes, and any beverage imaginable, although they don't have caffeinated drinks and more recently haven't had sugared sodas either.
<b>Medications</b>
Nellie Bly: There wasn't much medicating done at Blackwells. Nellie was forced to take a liquid medication she thought was choral hydrate once but she spit it out. Had she not taken it orally she was told it would be injected. She had no idea why this heavy sedative was given.
Me: Medications are the focus of the stay for most people; the others are there for ECT (electroconvulsive shock therapy). Meds are dispensed regularly throughout the day. I am on thyroid replacement so I am wakened at 6:30 for my first dose of the day and nighttime meds are given at 9 pm. Meds cannot be forced without a court order and that wouldn't happen on my unit (except for emergencies which also don't happen very often on my unit). One thing that changed since my first stay is that there is an order to give a shot of Haldol, a powerful anti-psychotic, if someone becomes very upset or agitated. I somewhat suspect that I had a role in this as my first stay I was not ordered anything for agitation beyond my usual meds. One day I checked my email to find my company accepting my resignation. It was an error but I did not know that for several hours and it took both nurses quite a long time to get me calm at all after another patient ran for help as I had a huge panic attack. It also took a long time to find a doctor to order meds to help me calm. It was enough that one of the nurses remembered it clearly 2 years later. Then a day or two later I again became extremely upset and thanks to a series of odd circumstances didn't get/find help for a long time. They had to get medication ordered again and it was again an ordeal because I was beyond reason and required both nurses attention for quite a while. (To be fair this could have been avoided if the tech had noticed that I was a mess and in bad shape and had gotten me help rather than offering to tell me a joke when he found me sobbing with used Kleenex everywhere while the nurses were doing a discharge and I couldn't get to them without having everyone on the unit see that I was freaking out, again.)
<b>Bathing</b>
Nellie Bly: Bathing was not frequent and this was probably for the best. Her first night she was forced to undress in front of many other women and forced into a tub of cold water. Another, highly symptomatic, patient roughly scrubbed her and then threw 3 bucketfuls of icy water over her head and face. Bath water was re-used over and over until it was filthy. After this there was a daily chance to wash her face in icy water that was also re-used numerous times and then she was expected to use one of two towels shared by all the patients. Nellie chose to use the hem of her under-dress instead.
Me: Showers are not my favorite part of my stay. However they are warm and private. You get into the room by asking the nurse who unlocks the room and makes sure you have towels, washcloths and absorbent pads used as bathmats. The water takes quite a while to get warm and has to be used at the hottest setting. The shower itself is odd as it is designed to prevent people from having any way of hanging themselves from the shower head. There is barely a pipe coming out of the wall at all and you can't adjust the nozzle position. Tall people probably hate it. The shower is designed for handicap access so there is a lot of extra space that makes it harder to really get and stay warm. They provide soap although I always bring my own. I always am afraid that someone will unlock and open the door, which never happens and which they guard against but it would be awful if it happened. You are allowed to shave without a staff member in the room but not directly staring at you. I think that this is adjusted based on your suicide risk and I'm not sure I'd have been allowed my last stay without direct supervision. I've seen people be upset by this because different nurses enforce the rule differently. I choose not to bother. During my 2nd hospitalization I was sent to shower to try to calm myself several times a day (they suggested, not required this) and I became more comfortable. However, it is not home. I always choose to shower at night because I don't have worry about anyone waiting for me to be done then and I don't have to wait to get dressed before breakfast.
<b>Clothing</b>
Nellie Bly: After the first day her own clothing was taken and she was forced to dress in ill-fitting garments that were not sufficiently warm for the temperatures in the facility. No additional clothing was provided when the patients were cold. They were given hats to wear when taken outside for their daily walk.
Me: I am allowed to wear clothing from home. They reserve the right to take shoestrings but usually just ask that you have your shoes locked up when not wearing them. I never wear shoes from admission to discharge because I hate shoes anyway. I wear either slippers or just socks with non-skid socks on top. They asked that you not bring much clothing; I always have more than they'd probably prefer simply because I bring things to layer because of the cold.
<b>How time is spent</b>
Nellie Bly: This could be summed up in 2 words: she sat. All the patients were forced to sit on hard benches for 14 hours per day. There was a piano which Nellie played once but it was severely out of tune and she found no pleasure in this. The women had a daily walk outside where they encountered the sickest patients in the asylum, all of whom were banded together with leather straps. Nellie seems to have spent a lot of time talking to other patients to gather their stories for her report and this did not seem to have met with disapproval. Nellie saw a doctor daily and seemed to see other doctors at times. However nothing she said to the doctors was believed as they attributed everything they did not like to delusions.
Me: Psych stays are a mix of groups and down time. There are usually 2-3 occupational therapy groups per day and other groups vary. Twice a week is group therapy with the social worker. I don't get along well with her and I usually hate this group because I find her smug and condescending and if I say something I can tell she doesn't like me. Art therapy is my favorite. As an OT I probably shouldn't say that but OT groups while wonderfully done sometimes cover ground that I've done in my own group sessions and that becomes boring. Art therapy is really something I thought was kind of dumb before I tried it and found that I inevitably leave with new insights and often art therapy has been when the biggest things came out of my mouth unexpectedly. Once or twice a week a health educator conducts groups about personal responsibility and coping with illness. He is the best group leader I've ever encountered in any setting, with an ability to make every person feel like he was paying total attention to them. He likes to tease me for some reason but the last time I saw him I had said for the first time that I was not going to be able to work. At the end he made a point of telling me he knew what I was losing and he was sorry. It was the kindest thing because he didn't have to remember the details of my chart or even realize that everyone but me knew that I couldn't work anymore and that I was saying this pretty much for the first time in that group. Other groups are more educational and I usually find them boring. Nutrition group would be fine except that I don't care about nutrition when I'm that sick and the one time I needed a nutritionist (when I started the MAOI diet) she refused to see me because she disagreed with my doctor about the required diet and restricted my foods to the point of not letting me have vegetables. I do always wish to go outside. It's not possible in the building where I am hospitalized and it's hard because it's a small space (163 steps to go around completely). You can't see outside well because there is a heavy mesh inside the windows and safety glass outside that is blurry. So light comes in but you have to work hard to see Lake Erie which is nearby or to see this beautiful church which is visible from the bedrooms. There are 2 visiting periods each day, one after lunch and one in the evening and more on weekends. Weekends are boring and the 3 day weekend for Christmas in 2012 was exceedingly boring, yet we played games, did crafts and read. One weekend when I had severe agitation I had a 1:1 aide for one shift/day to give me things to do to help me sit in a chair and try to do something besides pace, and in the evening the nurse spent a few more hours with me. They really try to keep people engaged. I spend vast amounts of time writing. I try to write everything that happens; my last stay filled one and a half notebooks. Phones calls can be made or received during times not set aside for groups. You can't dial the phone; you have to ask the receptionist to dial out for you and you are paged if a call comes for you. Cell phones aren't allowed; neither are ereaders, iPods, etc. There are things to keep you amused during down times: books, a computer you have to take turns on, a Wii, DVDs, TV, games, coloring supplies (I always color despite hating it because it helps me focus), art supplies although many need supervision for use, exercise mats, and general socialization with the other patients. That varies from great to not happening. I always ask for and am given permission to call in for phone therapy sessions once or twice per week with Dr. Mind. The inpatient doctor says that the staff consistently see me doing better after those so they are really great about setting me up in a conference room for the calls.
<b>Staff</b>
Nellie Bly: The nurses were abusive. The doctors were dismissive. If you were in the asylum you were hopeless and could not be believed about anything. The staff looked down on the patients and considered them "charity cases" who should not ask for anything and who did not deserve anything. The staff were eating good fresh food while the patients were given terrible quality, spoiled, insect ridden foods.
Me: There is almost no turnover on my unit. The nurses have nearly all seen me through all 3 hospitalizations and know me fairly well. They are generally wonderful. I haven't been there in 18 months but they still ask my psychiatrist about me when she is on call. The nurses are generally very kind and I have had them do exceptional things such as staying with me for a couple hours the day I was first there and was scared and couldn't stop crying. When I received an email that accepted my resignation from my job (an error) I had a panic attack and both nurses worked with me to calm me and help me find out what really was happening. When I was terribly agitated, beyond description, with a movement disorder called akasthesia for days the nurses did everything they could including assigning a 1:1 aide to keep me doing crafts for an entire shift. When we couldn't find a hook to finish pot-holders a nurse spent over an hour finding medical stuff that could be used. Another nurse in that time got me into hot showers over and over to help me relax a little. I did groups standing up or sitting in a desk chair so I could swivel and rock. Everyone made a big deal the first time I made it through a group in a regular chair without leaving to pace. A nurse about my age always takes time to talk to me and let me feel like a healthcare professional.
Having said that there is one nurse who I strongly dislike and most patients feel the same way. Even my psychiatrist has confirmed that but whispered conversations in the hall have proven it. The worst thing she did to me was when I was agitated and not due for Ativan she gave me my Seroquel instead. Seroquel is my heavy hitter for sleep and because sleep is so hard for me I've been taught that you do not fight off the drugs. So I went to bed. She forced me to go a group after waking me then scolded me for crying. She got in trouble over this and doesn't like me much. My last stay she was my nurse (max of 5 patients) for nearly every night the stay which was close to 2 weeks. On day 10 she did not know my name. However she only seems to like people who suck up to her and I think she knows I don't like her and I find her fake and mean and that she likes to look very involved when she really likes to be involved with drama. I have seen one nurse lose her temper inappropriately but only once. Generally they are very kind. The most difficult thing that has ever happened with a nurse was that a nurse who didn't work on my unit normally thought that I pulled a pill out of my mouth and pocketed it. I had not but I had to be searched, questioned and my room was thoroughly searched as opposed to the usual brief scan they do each shift to be sure nobody brought anything bad in during visiting hours. That was humiliating but understandable and she was doing her job. I did touch my mouth and then probably put my hand into my hoodie pocket shortly after taking the pill so I could see where she became suspicious but I wanted the Ativan to work so I wasn't about to not take it. The moment was over quickly.
<b>Overall Experience</b>
Nellie Bly: There isn't much good to say about her experience. Her treatment was abusive and the so-called healthcare was abysmal. The doctors were so biased that they couldn't see her health. The patients were exploited, ignored, shamed, and treated with a complete lack of dignity. Nellie did not have the fully horrific experience that most women would have had since she knew that she would be rescued. Even so she had originally planned to spend time with the sickest patients and decided once she was there that this wasn't safe or wise. If a completely competent adult could not navigate the system I'm not sure how someone who was not entirely lucid and in control of herself could have survived long. I don't know the death rate for those patients but it must have been extremely high and being sent to the asylum must have been a death sentence.
Me: I do not like the hospital. I know every time I'm admitted that I will struggle. I am unlikely to sleep well no matter what meds are given. Only once were they able to keep me sleeping well. But that's a common enough problem for me that only part is the setting. If I have a roommate I struggle because I'm not used to sharing space and all my usual problems with not being able to cry or relax become issues. I truly dislike the one nurse and the social worker. On the other hand they saved my life 21 months ago. I went in there suicidal and they didn't quite realize how bad it was until I finally admitted that I had every intention to kill myself when released. I left at least willing to try a little long and able to say what I'd know for a month but couldn't say, that I was done working no matter how much I wanted to. Mostly I have been treated kindly. The other patients are generally nice enough although my situation is different than most and so sometimes I don't feel like I fit in. Overall though my experiences have been 95% positive and I am comfortable enough knowing that sometimes I'll need to be there and that it will be ok when that happens. If I never go back I'd be thrilled but realistically I will spend time on the 6th floor periodically.
<b>The End</b>
I believe our mental health system has a very long way to go. I think it is good to see how far we've come. Unfortunately I don't think we have another 130 years to correct what is wrong now. I believe if adequate care and follow-up is not available for mentally ill individuals that tragedies will continue. These tragedies have to be stopped sometime and I honestly don't know what it will take but I do know that until a commitment is made to stop them they will continue.
Copyright 2006 www.masterofirony.blogspot.com
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