Blogs are all about laying life on the line, being brutally honest with the world because life isn’t easy, its not a ‘box of chocolates’.
So this blog is going to be super hard ,long and probably a bit of ramble so bare with me. I’ve written, deleted and rewritten this so many times..
During my PND and me post i said I’d write eventually about why I’m so scared of hospitals..
When I was 19 I was in a very horrible place with my mental health and made a decision that I didn’t have anymore fight left in me.. I attempted suicide. I was alone in my flat and had a cocktail of things i knew would do the job.. Slowly but it would do what i planned out to do.. My dad turned up and found me led on my kitchen floor with sick and blood everywhere. I’ll always remember him walking in and calling me a stupid bitch. He rushed me to hospital and i was a mess. I didn’t want to go to hospital because i knew that meant i had failed in what i had planned to do.They hooked me up to a drip to get everything out of my system and i was alone in this big place with no one and i felt like a failure. I spent my time there a shell of a person. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or any mental health doctors. I mean what more could i say to them? I want to die and talking to you isn’t going to help me. It got to about 6pm the next day and i was sat shaking and sweating in my bed. I couldn’t take being there anymore and I discharged myself. I was forced to go back to my dads and stay there where i could be watched to make sure i didn’t do anything. a few weeks later I went back to work and I was rushed back to hospital due to a severe anxiety attack my boss thought it was something worse and as soon as I got there the sweats came back and the shaking came back so I ran out. I didn’t want to be there, there wasn’t anything they could do for an anxiety attack and i didn’t want to take up a bed so i went home and slept for two days. I didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone i just wanted to sleep, it was the closest I could get to being totally alone.
I was then made an outpatient at a mental health hospital I had to go for assessment after assessment to make sure I was ‘functioning’ like a normal person should, I want to say this was easy but it wasn’t it was hell, I was being forced to talk about my problems because if i didn’t they could have sectioned me the first couple of sessions i barely said anything more than yes, no or a nod but the third time i was told talk or they were going to have to take it further. Once i finally opened up it made life manageable not perfect but i could function as a semi decent human.
This brings me to miscarriage two – like I said in a previous post I spent so much time in hospital I was there every other day for two weeks straight because they thought they’d be able to save the baby. The couldn’t I knew that. They knew it too. This is where my hospital fear got worse. The last time I was there I nearly died and now I’m there and something I’m supposed to be growing died. Now don’t get me wrong I’m thankful in a very weird way that pregnancy wasn’t successful I was still recovering from the attempt and to be honest I wasn’t ready to become a mum the relationship I was in was toxic to whole new levels. This put me into a mindset of hospitals are cruel places. They’re a place of heart break and hurt and i couldn’t bare being in one anymore.
I’ve had family in hospital and i cant even go visit them because after 5 minutes in there the sweats break out and i become erratic. I’ve been made to sit in hospital car parks because my parents are at a loss of what to do. I cant even go to an appointment with Adam without getting a massive headache or sweating I know i’m not even there for myself.
When I was 21 i had Quincy it was my second day at a job and my throat was closing up and I was basically suffocating. I went to the GP with the mindset of they can just give me medication and i can go home. That wasn’t the case. I begged with the GP just give me medication I’ll be fine if I’m not I’ll go to hospital I promise. I think even they knew deep down I wouldn’t. So my mum forced me down to the hospital. They told me there would be a 5 hour wait for a bed.. and giving my mental state about hospitals I was flipping. I lasted 2 and a half hours with a cannula in my hand waiting around and I couldn’t take anymore I was a state. I ripped my cannula out and demanded they gave me medication so I could go home.. They relented but made my mum promise to check in on me every 2/3 hours to make sure i was breathing, The medicine worked straight away and i was back to work two days later.
6 weeks pre baby – I had severe cramps in my legs which would keep me up all hours of the night, I had just recieved some news that tore my world upside down and it was the day of my midwife appointment, so I went up there and I explained the cramps, She told me that I looked wiped out and that she believed I had blood clots. I tried to explain I had recieved some news and had spent the last 24 hours crying my eyes out but she didnt listen. So off I went back to hospital. I spent my whole afternoon there, being told I wasnt going to be admitted I was going to be given some injections have a scan and go home. It also turns out im pro at doctor bullshit dectecting because I didnt believe a word they said.. They moved me onto a ward and I again flipped. I called them the biggest bunch of liars, I have a way with words and when I’m stressed I can become quite mean, They told me they needed to run tests which they couldnt do till the morning, Once i told them i was refusing to stay they realised that they could do the tests that day – Funny that. They were concerned about the stress of the baby and I told them the longer they keep me here the more stress on the baby. The did all the tests found out nothing was wrong and i was home two hours later.
This brings me to the birth of Harper. My family were like you can’t have your baby at home what if something goes wrong but I was adamant i could. I had this amazing midwife who was like I’ve read her notes and there’s no way in hell she will labour in hospital the baby will stress as she stresses. My labour was fairly easy i mean it hurt like a bitch of course it did but i felt this sense of peace i had my home comforts but of course this wasn’t to be. She decided to turn last-minute and i was rushed to hospital to give birth to my human.The birth was fairly straight forward but there was the constant stress that i have to stay here for a night at least. Adam had been up the same amount of time and i made him stay with me because i was terrified.. The next day around 11am we were told we could go home and i was buzzing but of course i got my hopes up. 5pm came and went and we were still there. I knew something was up every other mummy on our ward had their baby checked and were off home and at this point i was flipping. I’m surviving on no sleep and being bullshitted in my head by some bellend who kept changing her story. We were informed about a NIPY test which had to be done in the first 24 hours of birth.. This is fine but why wasn’t it done till 7pm a baby born at 5am was home by 9am but me and my 23 hour old stinkle were still there. They discovered she had a minor heart murmur and i was crushed. we weren’t going anywhere and now i had this fear my little one wasn’t even going to make a full life. The next day soon as the day nurses came on we were on them. I don’t sleep in hospitals, we were made to wait till 1pm for her to be taken to NICU and be told there isn’t any heart murmur at this point I’m angry and exhausted we’d been dicked around the following day when we could have been home enjoying family life.
I know hospitals are great places for some people and i know the doctors do an incredibly good job with what they’re fighting against the government. However for me.. Hospitals are terrifying and it’s another thing to add to list of things I’m fucking terrified of.