Even if it’s not.
24 hours and not the former television show, can produce a lot of blog material. Yesterday late afternoon Trauma Queen fainted again. I thoroughly felt bad for her as I was the one who caught her mid faint and carried her down to the floor…and received a nasty scratch and bruise for my efforts.
I stayed with her performing semi basic paramedic responses – wiggle fingers & toes and take deep breathe. She was out for a short time but kept my voice going while she was out and until the paramedics wheeled her away. The on duty attendee was a bit shaken but handled it well while I kept TQ calm, focused and breathing. This I thought was proof that maybe she wasn’t entirely faking.
I sometimes wonder if there is a part of me that has died. I was completely calm and non reactive during the entire ordeal. It never even crossed my mind to freak out. It was if I was doing something I have done a thousand times before. It actually worries me a little that not an ounce of me was worried or freaked out.
Much later that night in the wee hours of the morning TQ was released and came home. Her arrival wasn’t what I would have expected. For starters I thought with a concussion the hospital would keep her overnight. Second she was pretty lively for someone who has fallen and fainted three separate times in less than a week.
The next morning it was my turn for a visit to the hospital. Not a trip I was looking forward to but a necessary “I need my medicine” visit. However the visit turned out to be more productive then I was expecting. Turns out the hospital has a program for people who have zero income. Furthermore people in shelters get same day temporary approval. So I didn’t have to wait (suffer) without my medicine for days. This has been one of my top three major concerns recently – housing, jobs & how I would get my medicine that keeps me alive.
But before I found out about the program I couldn’t help but start down the same old corridor to insanity way of thinking. What if they don’t provide my medicine? What am I going to do? How am I going to be able to live without it? As always when I let myself slip into that kind of thinking depression quickly slips in… and thoughts of wondering if I would truly be better off dead than constantly fighting to live. Truth is I wish I could. But I have some kind of element inside me that is a survivor and won’t allow me to give up or genuinely kill myself. I’ve tried unsuccessfully and failed without even the decently of the necessity for an ER visit, so suicide is not an option.
But that is neither here or there because the program was introduced to me. But as I always do I think too much and these days have not changed that.
I’m tired of pretending that everything is A OK – it’s not. I’m tired of putting on a happy face whenever I feel people expect it from me. Tired of being the positive one, finding the information needed, being strong and not weak. Even though I know I would hate it, I wish I could be the whiner, the one who needs lots of attentions and help to do everything.
I know that is not who I am but sometimes I just wish it could be.