I'm still here. It's been a weird day. As expected, the new strategy with meds knocked me out so at least I passed the time easily enough - I slept half the day. But really, as a coping mechanism, it's not the most sound. Did the community mental health nurse contact me as promised? No, of course he didn't. Am I surprised? Not in the slightest. What will quite literally bowl me over with astonishment is if he bothers to contact me at all in the next two weeks.
I went back to my GP this evening. He's a very even tempered man, or at least he is when he's with his patients. I have no contact with him outside of the surgery, so this is what I see of him. He was as close to pissed off as I've ever seen when I told him what happened, although no more than myself, not surprised. We also managed to establish that the private clinic he referred me to over 3 weeks ago has lost my referral, so we're back to square one there. If this wasn't such an unholy nightmare it would be funny. How much more can actually go wrong? He asked me if I could keep going, but really, what are my choices?? Of course I have to keep going. But to keep going AND hold on to the hope that someone out there has any clue what they're talking about, or will even bother listening to me, or do me the courtesy of reading my file - well that's a different ball game altogether.
It took me weeks to admit I needed more help. Weeks. And it got me absolutely nowhere. Last night, this morning, this afternoon, I was upset. Now? Now I am angry. More than that, I'm raging. On what planet is it ok to repeatedly fob people off when they are at their absolute most vulnerable, and desperate for help and guidance?? Are doctors aware of the very great power they wield, and the potential for damage that goes with that power? Yes, it was 5.30pm and he'd probably been working for an insane number of hours. Does that justify dismissing me so lightly? I consider myself one of the lucky ones. Hubby was able to come and collect me. I knew I could speak to my GP today. My family would drop everything and come running if I would only let them. I have Therapist. I have good friends. It was still a frighteningly overwhelming experience. I walked out the door of that hospital sobbing and terrified, but at least I knew Hubby was on his way. All I had to do was keep myself safe for the half hour till he got there.
What of people who don't have these things? What of the people who may be reaching out for the very first time, and have told no one else? The people who don't have anyone to go home to? What happens when they're faced with the attitude that I've repeatedly met? It's not good enough. Nowhere near. Something has to give, and soon.
Labels: frustration, GP, hopeless, psychiatrist, support, treatment