Posts Tagged ‘Depression’

I had entered the hospital on February 16 and by now, with my best recollection, it is February 22. I had agreed to go to the rehabilitation Center at Palmdale regional. Or at least that’s what I thought. Again, I was heavily medicated with morphine and being in the hospital I wasn’t sleeping the best. I was just about to fall asleep when two very, umm, loud women came in my room.

Hurting my ears

The one woman mentioned that she was from a rehabilitation center in San Bernardino which was an hour plus away from my home. She and the other woman, the hospital case manager, both explained how ‘their’ rehab center had been in business for 22 years (maybe 24) and they were the best. Now in my morphine haze, I thought they were actually talking about Dr. Nasser’s rehab center. If I had been in my right mind I would’ve realized that his (Dr. Nasser’s) center was not an hour plus away from my home. But these women were so forceful in their ‘sales pitch’, that I just sat there nodding my head saying yes. Somehow they had heard about my interest in going to a rehab center, and ended up in my room pushing their place on me. I was a little taken aback because the case manager from the hospital was with this person. In my mind, this was a conflict of interest. [ya think] I felt as if these women were tag teaming me. 😂 I don’t remember much more except, I think, I agreed to go to their place. When they left I was very anxious and in tears.

As I was falling asleep, a man entered the room. Instantly I felt calm. He was good looking, he was dressed nicely, had very nicely trimmed and well-kept beard going on, and he was Zen like. He told me his name was Scott and that he was from the rehab center at Palmdale. So now my mind was going in all different directions. I explained about the two women that had shown up in my room and how they told me theirs was the best rehab center around. He smiled and told me that they are a well-established rehabilitation center. He explained that the rehab center at Palmdale was fairly new, only a tad over one-year-old. I knew immediately I was going to go with Palmdale. Not just because it was only five minutes from my home, but because this guy made me feel calm. His voice was even, he had a pleasant laugh, and he was not throwing me a sales pitch. I know I was high on the morphine, but he also made me feel high just talking to him. I told him my mind was made up and that I wanted to go to ‘his’ place. We talked a few more minutes and then he left. I was so calm by then I just remember falling asleep for a good four hours.

When I woke up, that evil little voice inside my head was making me very nervous. Telling me I wasn’t strong enough, that the pain would be too much, that I can’t forget I have primary progressive MS. As usual, I started to weep. And yes, ugly cry. And yes, snot running down my face. But then, as if a fire was lit inside of me, I dried my eyes wiped my nose and said to myself, “I CAN do this! I know it will be hard, but I know I have the strength and the courage to do it. My life and my families lives depend on this. I’ve got this!”

The next step…Life!

Love and Light

All about Dr. Hottie! His name is Dr. Thomas Nasser, DO. This part is about how he helped me start my new journey.

By now I had seen Dr. Muscles and awesome Dr. Pretty. [the psychiatrist] I truly need to find out their real names. All of a sudden the curtain opened and this very attractive man walked in my room. He introduced himself as Dr. Nasser. I looked at him and apologized because I told him they they sent me the wrong Dr. Nasser. You see his wife, Dr. Susan Nasser, is my primary care doctor. He laughed a little and said,” you must mean my wife.” All I could think of was they must be the power couple in the valley here. He explained that he was a pain management specialist and that he ran the Rehabilitation Renter at Palmdale Regional Medical Center. He had been told of my plight by Dr. Muscles. He wanted to ask me if I wanted to go to his rehab to get help. Again, for those of you that know me when I know something, I’m always right. I explained that I have primary progressive MS and there really isn’t anything he could do for me. Again, he just smiled and basically he told me, well then there’s nothing to lose right?

In this moment I had so many things going through my head. I was drugged up on morphine, and everything was still hazy about what had happened the day before. Hell this might’ve been the same day I truly can’t remember. All I  could think about was being told for so many years there wasn’t much I could do once the progression started. The new medication, for the progressive forms of MS [Ocrevus], I could not go on. Something about being too disabled. I will talk about that another time. All the while he just stood there waiting for my response.

I looked at him and said. “I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with, but yes, I would love to try it.” I told him that my insurance probably wouldn’t do it, and he told me not to worry about that. When he left the room I was scared. The pain I have on a daily basis is about a 10+. But As my fellow MS’ers know we learn to deal with it. I knew doing this was going to be hell-a painful and hell-a hard. And there was that little asshole voice saying ‘it won’t work.’ And, again, I was scared. No, fuck that, I was PETRIFIED!! Could I deal with the pain? Could it, would it, really work. NO, it won’t work!! Nothing will help!! That damn voice would not shut the fuck up!! Then somehow… from somewhere… a strange feeling overtook me. HOPE!! Real hope. A feeling that I had lost many years ago. You see hope was my mantra. Then, hope became paralyzing. Hope became a word that made me cry. But, at this moment, hope was back. I’m not a great writer, so bare with me as I try to explain the feelings that took over. I see/feel dark and light. Dark and light clouds, if you will. My cloud was pitch-black and gloomy over me. I felt the cloud ‘open’ and light enveloped me. I was shaking and tears were streaming down my face. Fifty-three years of negative forces went flooding past me and a rainbow of positivity swept over me. Maybe, just maybe, this would work. Maybe, just maybe, I could get my life back and save my family.

Now the real journey begins…

Have Courage and Be Kind

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‘Have Courage and Be Kind’ is a beautiful quote from this 2015 version of Cinderella.

I’ve been thinking of a way to approach the week after I hit my crossroads. When the ambulance dropped me off at the Antelope Valley Hospital I wasn’t sure what I was going to do or why I was there. I explained I had a bad infection [captain obvious], but I said nothing about my suicidal thoughts. So they did what they always do, hooked up my power-port, and filled me up with morphine. Then, of course, they started a treatment of antibiotics. I was in and out and of it and was feeling pretty good with the morphine. At some point, and this is where gets hazy, a doctor that I had not yet met, showed up in my room.

And so it begins…

He was completely shaven, bald as a billiard. Tanned skin and quite good looking. It was very obvious the man takes very good care of himself. But, then he pissed me off…for a minute. He proceeded to ask me why I was there. WTF, look at my pee bag dude, it’s dark as fuck. Yes, I said that. He then asked me ‘why I did not go to my doctor since obviously it had been this way for a while’. I just looked at him like, seriously?!! Then he kept asking me over and over again, why was there, why now, why was I there, why now!!! Those who know me, know I do not like to be pressured or put on the spot. So I looked at him like he was fucking crazy and an asshole for asking me that over and over again. Then, he asked me again, ‘WHY ARE YOU HERE!!! I snapped, and 21 years of my MS diagnosis came out like verbal diarrhea, 21 years of frustration came pouring out. I was screaming at that point… ‘Do you want to know why I’m here, do you really want to know!’ I was screaming and crying telling him, “FINE… I wanted to kill myself is that what you want to hear. I was 32 years old with 3 babies under 3 when I was dx’ed. Why did God forsake me?!! Now I’m 53, and my kids have never known me well. Now, I’m paralyzed from the waist down and for the last 4 1/2 years years completely bedridden. Now my arms stopped working. I told my my family when my arms go, I’m going too!! I could hear my daughter asking me if I was going to go now? My family is dying because of this disease because it has taken over my house. My family will be better off without me! I’m a burden and all the doctors did was throw me in bed and drugged me up and ripped open my stomach because nobody wanted to help me. Instead they threw a colostomy and a urostomy bag on me and left me in the bed to die. My husband is dying inside my children are dying inside because nobody gave two shits about us, no doctor wants to really help us! I didn’t go to the doctor because I can no longer afford a caregiver and I had no one to drive me!” As I was screaming I didn’t realize that there were about 20 people in the room and people walking by. I just kept screaming how I was thrown away and nobody cared. It was easier for the doctors to just put me in bed because that’s what primary progressive MS does. You just progress and then you die. I’m sure I looked a sight, as I was ugly crying. I know that snot was running all down my face and most likely in to my mouth. I know, I know…TMI! This guy called me on my shit, no one does that!! And how did he know? How did he see my pain and how did he know I wanted to end my life? How did he know why I was really there?

Then, silence. I was breathing so fast and looking around the room. Some were crying, some just looking at me like they wanted to hug me. Someone handed me a lil’ box of tissues. Then his voice broke the silence. He said, “We’re going to make you happy again.” I looked at him like he was crazy. Didn’t he know, I have primary progressive multiple sclerosis, there is nothing he can do to help me or make me happy again. He smiled and said he’d be back. A few minutes later a woman entered the room. She was the psychiatrist on call. She looked at me and said, “You never sleep, do you?” I looked at her and said, “No.” She looked at my file saw that I was on Effexor and explained she would leave me on that, but she was going to add something else. Something that would, help me sleep and make me happy again. I looked at her like she was crazy too. I didn’t think they understood what they were dealing with. Dr. Muscles [I’m trying to find his real name] came back in the room to see how I was doing after my meltdown. I just looked at him and said, “Thank you.”

The next doctor he sent my way, changed my life!

Part 3 tomorrow. Sorry if my writing is not perfect. I never said I was a writer. LOL

Have Courage and Be Kind

 

I truly believed that my life was only my MS. I was no longer Tracy, my new name was MS. For years I was told that with my type, Primary Progressive, that there was nothing I could do. I would slowly progress and there was nothing that would stop it. For some reason I actually believed the people that told me that, hell they were doctors. Basically, I gave up. On January 30th, someone I loved very much, passed away. I don’t remember much after that until February 16th when I came to a crossroads. During those 2 weeks I lost the use of my left arm, and most of my right. I had told my family that when my arms went, I’m going too. So on that night, with the only hand that was working, I opened a bottle of my pills, and was ready to go be with my beautiful friend, Carolyn Baker. Then something amazing happened. You see normally my dogs sleep with me. That evening none were in my room. At the moment the bottle touched my lips my beautiful girl, Soloh, jumped on the bed came to me and snuggled. I could hear Carolyn’s voice telling me to STOP, that I’m strong, and to get the HELL up and get some damn help!! I knew it was Carolyn that sent Soloh to me at that moment. She loved my lil’ PitMix. I looked up, and smiled through tears, and put the top back on the bottle and set them down, and said ‘ok, girl…I hear you’! I called to my husband to take me to the hospital. He said we could wait until the next day. (Note: My MS has tried to break my family. There is much anger because of it.) At the time, my urine was very very dark almost black. I knew I had an infection for at least 3 weeks by then. So that’s why my husband thought I wanted to go to the hospital. I didn’t fill him in on the real reason…yet. I told him, “okay” and I found an ambulance that took our insurance, and called. About 5 minutes later there was a knock on the door and my husband came in and asked me if I called an ambulance. I laughed and said, “yes”. He smiled and let them in…

survive

In this moment, my life has been changed forever…

My arms are getting tired, part 2 will be up tomorrow. Please stayed tuned. And, miracles really do happen.

Have Courage, and Be Kind

 Primary progressive multiple sclerosis, end stage. There is no medication for it, there is no remission, there is no cure. So when do you say enough?

 I lie in my bed 24 hours a day seven days a week. When I do get into my wheelchair the pain is so bad I can’t sit for more than 30 minutes to an hour. So I don’t get it my wheelchair. Even lying in my bed I have pain constantly.

 I no longer have the caregiver as I cannot afford one. Hospice won’t even take me. They don’t consider what I have terminal. I guess it’s OK that I live another 20 years lying in a bed in constant pain. If that’s not terminal  I don’t know what is.  Fuck you hospice!

 Dr. Kevorkian  knew what my type of illness did to a person. He helped them die with dignity before they became so bad that they could do nothing for themselves.  I’m already there I can literally do nothing for myself. Except talk text and look at my phone and use a remote control to watch endless hours of television until my brain goes numb.

 I have a hard time holding utensils now. But I guess it’s OK if I just become a head in a bed that is in constant pain. People say tomorrow’s another day.  Not for me, tomorrow is the same thing, every day for the rest of my life.

 The new so-called medication for progressive MS is a big farce. Maybe it will help secondary progressive but that’s not even in the same league as primary progressive. Ocrevus, The manufacturer, when I called them basically told me I’m too far gone. On the disability scale I’m an 8.2. So I can’t take the medication. But they don’t really give you a reason why.

 I’m not looking for pity I’m not looking for any ones I’m sorry’s, I’m bringing about awareness to a disease that is looked at as a basic, oh well you have MS, disease.  It’s not basic it’s like living in hell.

I’m off, as I can barely talk without crying anymore. I just want to  have some control over my own life and not die a rotting shell of the person I once was.

Really, why do we? Why do so many put their thoughts and emotions out the for the world to ‘read’? For me, it breaks the monotony of my daily bed-ridden life. It allows me to bitch, if you will, at the world and not my family. lol I have a story, it may not be much to some, but it’s my life. I hope that in some small way others in my position can find some hope, or at least have a laugh.

Even in my more depressing blogs, I think it helps others to know they are not alone. It’s ok to cry, scream, and lose it… once in a while. 🙂 We don’t always have to ‘hold’ it together and be strong every second. Sometimes a good cry is cleansing for the soul, and I’m talking ugly crying! lol

I also hope to bring awareness to others on how we can fight back against those who try to hurt us. Hospital treatment and the treatment we sometimes have to endure by big companies, i.e.; Insurance Companies, and big Pharma. We have to be tough and find our inner strength so these people do not run over us like we are nothing.

We are the strong. We deal with more in one day than most deal with in their lifetime. We smile through the pain, the losses, and the inhumanity of some. So believe it, we are the true Warriors!!

There are days I want to give up. There was a time, not long ago, I tried… When I awoke I was angry, I wanted to be free. Then I realized, maybe I am here for a reason. If I am able to help even just one person, maybe that’s why I am still here. I’ll be honest, the thoughts linger in my head every day. I fight like hell to never let them ‘almost’ get me again. It has nothing to do with any God or higher power. It’s my will, my power and inner child that keeps me going. We all have the inner child of strength. I truly hope you can find yours and hold on tight.

Love and Light to all

I started this blog with the hopes of chronicling my MS and my thoughts, etc.. Im realizing that with Primary Progressive MS, there is not much to chronicle. There are no more medications for me to try; hell there are no medications for PPMS. Wait, I’m lying. There is ONE possibly coming to a drug store near you, winter of 2017. But, not for me. Yes, it will be the first medication for PPMS, but I don’t qualify. My EDSS score is too high. I’m between 8 and 8.5. In other words, I’m too far gone! Well okay then.

I sit/lie here 90% of the time. I’m not even sure where I’m going with this entry. I’m not even sure why I’m even blogging it. Maybe out of boredom. I guess this is my personal diary that I just happen to share. A place for me to come back to and ‘remember’, the good and the bad. A place for me to vent. A place where I can say whatever the fuck I want.

I just wish I knew how to get my thoughts out of my head and onto here. A jumbled crazy ass rollercoaster is the only way to explain my thoughts.

“Outlook is grim”, has been the description of two doctors regarding my life now. Well no shit… But, did you have to say it out loud!! RUDE much. 😛 And, I know I know, anyone can die at anytime. They could walk out of their house and get hit by car. I get that. That would be easy. We start dying the minute we’re born if you want to get technical. Picture yourself  lying in bed 24/7 while your body slowly but surely dies daily from illness. It’s not for the weak. With PPMS, there is NO cure, NO remission, NO parole. So, the next time you want to use the ole. “well anyone can die just from blah blah blah”…don’t!! Above all… DO NOT compare one illness to another, especially if you, yourself, do not have said disease. You will never ‘get it’ unless you ‘get it’!

Scary part is that sometimes I really believe I’m going a bit mad. Seems par for the course…

madhere