I’m home now so this will be an account of my final week in hospital.
My regular doctor came back and was not impressed with the medication change imposed by the other one. She removed the diazepam and changed the fluoxetine to 15 mg instead of 20. This means I need to split the tablet into quarters as it only comes in 20s, which I have been trying to do on my own with not much success. I need to find one of those pill cutter things.
I feel like my mood resolved a bit but my activity hit a low. All I did from when I got up at 3am (yes that’s still happening) to dinner time is watch Dragonball Z. Anyone familiar with Dragonball Z knows there’s enough of it to sustain my inactivity marathon for weeks. I find myself getting frustrated with it though – it’s so drawn out. I can watch the same fight go on for about ten episodes and still not have closure.
Maybe next admission I’ll get into Bleach, ha. You won’t see me for months.
The dietician I’ve been seeing outpatient also works for this hospital so I had an appointment with him this week to get a free one in. He tried to encourage me to exercise – I’ve still been playing sport but in hospital they have a gym which I could be using but I’m not. Would rather be watching Dragonball Z.
We also talked about something that has been concerning me, maintaining a healthy diet when I move in with my boyfriend. Our eating habits go to shit when we’re together – we hardly ever cook, we snack together watching tv and tend to influence each other’s drinking habits. The solution, we agreed was to start cooking more. He promised to bring me some print outs of healthy recipes for our next session.
I only went to two group therapy sessions this week. One was a dietician’s group in which I encountered more judgement from other patients but this time I wasn’t keeping quiet. It happened during this exchange, where this girl who was about my age asked the dietician if walking was good exercise to lose weight:
Dietician: Well, all physical activity is good, but to lose weight you need to do something that gets your heart rate up.
Girl: Well I can’t go to the gym, they’re too intimidating. And who plays team sports at my age?
Me: Excuse me, I do.
Dietician: Yeah and Mac plays a very interesting team sport, don’t you Mac?
I told her what it was (a contact sport) and still she had nothing to say. The other patients took over with the usual comments I get for disclosing that I play that sport “wow you must be so tough!” etc. But I didn’t hear from that girl for the rest of the group.
The other group I went to was another addictions group. I was hoping that the people who were in it the week before would be there so I could tell them what a bunch of dickheads they were but didn’t go. Instead it seemed to be a bunch of patients who were just there for something to do. I got sick of them asking too many self serving, irrelevant questions and walked out.
Well I’ve been willing to give my therapist a chance even though we have bad chemistry but in our final session of the admission she convinced me that I never want to work with her again. The session lasted 15 minutes and she spent it telling me how difficult I have been to work with and that I should seriously reconsider trying to get a job in admin because I’m too socially inept for it. I challenged her to give me an example of a job that didn’t have face to face contact and she couldn’t. I don’t know what she expects me to do, just sit at home watching Dragonball Z all day for the rest of my life?
I understand that, as someone on the spectrum, my personal presentation can sometimes leave a bit to be desired. But I would have thought that a psychology professional would have the knowledge to be accommodating of that. I’ve worked with many therapists over my several admissions at that hospital and we’ve made great progress despite my being ‘difficult.’ Unfortunately she pulled this one after my last session with my doctor so I won’t be able to complain about it for a long time.
My discharge went smoothly. They gave me my papers over breakfast and I had them signed and handed back immediately. The hard part is waiting around for my medication and scripts, which can take hours, but only took half an hour that day. Then my boyfriend took me home and I arrived ready to face life sober.
Until I get admitted again (so ages away hopefully)