Last Monday, I was in the bathroom when my ribs suddenly hit my hip. I was in agony. I crawled to my phone and called the ambulance dispatch caller. I tried to explain as best as I could.
When the paramedics got here, they thought I had fallen and simply took me to the ER waiting room. I protested about the pain of being in a wheelchair, but they ignored me.
I have been in great pain since coming home in a taxi. Today I awoke to find my arms and legs tingling. Two hours ago, my ribs settled on my hips permanently. I am in agony and don’t know how I will get through the next week until my doctor’s appointment.
Reading on Medium, I am very aware that some people have had a family member who is or was an addict. Drugs and alcohol are the usual, although nicotine is the most addictive substance.
I seem to attract addicts. Usually alcoholics who are not quite there yet. Maybe it’s because I have no addictions, maybe it’s because I am a “strong person” according to my friends.
Addiction starts the first time a lie is told in order to obtain the drink or drug. The lie may be about staying longer at school or work, going to the gym or meeting a friend. Lies will become normal for the addict. Deception is part and parcel of addiction.
The second thing that happens is that someone covers for the person who is becoming addicted. They rationalize, make excuses, or confirm the lie. They do this, not realizing how dangerous their complicity is. They have no idea about addiction.
Addiction is a family disease.
This pattern carries on, possibly periodically at first. Other times it is continuous.
After a while, others adapt to the behavior and treat it as normal. We call these people codependent. The need of the “normal” to continue. They are unwilling to address it or even notice.
We call the people who cover for the addict “enablers”.
All the while, the addiction is growing and more people cover for the addict, accept the behavior, or deny to themselves that it is going on. The addict, above all, denies their problem.
With alcohol, the person is seen as a party person, drinking more than others. In time, they hide alcohol in different places.
With drug addiction, the addict gathers phone numbers of dealers and friends who will supply what they require. A network begins.
While this is going on, the people who don’t knowthe addict well will believe the lies and be unaware of the deceptions. If asked for a tiny loan, they will give it but never see their money again. People will like the addict, become friends and buy them drinks as they never seem to have enough money for one.
Alcoholics will empty dregs from glasses at bars or beer gardens into one glass and drink it. They can hide their drinking by having places to hide it or people who will supply it. The same goes with drugs.
If an addict ever reaches the point that they want to stop, the whole family will need help. There are many behaviors that need to change. The lies need to stop. Patterns that formed must be broken. It is a long process.
By this time, at least one family member will have estranged. Sometimes it is the addict, other times the one who could see what was happening. Friends will feel anger, relief, surprise, all sorts of feelings.
The hardest thing is the denial of the family. They will not believe the truth. They choose to believe the lies.
Forgive my familiarity; you waved at me personally twice
Born a princess, not destined to be Queen you stepped into your role with grace, humility and service you always showed putting others at ease, you smiled, twinkle-eyed
Young woman in the Forces, you sacrificed the camaraderie of the barracks for the palace but snuck out on VE day evening to feel the joy with the crowds of happy, dancing, people
You took the weight of the crown knowing you had trust in your Prince who was your rock, confidante a born leader, he then walked two steps behind We saw the glances, whispers and the laughter
You changed with the times, softening, twinkling winning hearts, never wrong-footed, wise and wiser I think you died of a broken heart, am I right? Your Prince had died, your rock was gone
Lilibet, you are free of service now, go fly to the God you loved, the man who knew you duty is done, so graciously, with common touch No one will match you, irreplaceable Queen
About seven years ago I was diagnosed with an asthma-like condition. It was treated with Salbutamol (ventolin). This was not really effective but my problem was not serious at that time. I would get short of breath after walking or housework.
About four years ago, a friend lent me his pink inhaler Fostair. It was far more efficacious so I asked for Salbutamol to be removed from my prescription. Fostair was much better.
Some time after this I began needing paramedics to make interventions due to seemingly asthma attacks — when the respiratory system tightens and air cannot get in. These were fairly few but mainly in damp, cold, weather. This year I have needed more interventions than I can count. Mainly because the consultant I got was useless.
All these vapors going through my mouth and throat mean I must drink after using my inhalers and after nebulizing by paramedics.
Now, I use so many inhalers that my sense of taste is almost gone. In May last year, I was diagnosed as a carbon dioxide retainer. It means I do not exhale all the carbon dioxide my body converts from oxygen. It is very dangerous. It can cause coma or even death. I cannot be given oxygen except briefly. It will knock out my breathing as now my respiration is driven by CO2. I carry a huge medical alert card.
I retain not just carbon dioxide but fluids. There is fluid on my heart and other organs. My blood oxygen hovers around 90, but may drop to 83 or be a high as 97. These are percentages. A healthy person’s blood oxygen is 100.
I have started buying sour sweets. The kind that are chewy and jelly like. They make my mouth water and I can taste them. Brushing my teeth with toothpaste does not help, so I use salt, or a flavorful leaf on my toothbrush.
I eat honey by the spoonful. It soothes my throat which is always sore. Honey soothes the skin of my throat as well as my mouth.
I am now living with hypoxia as a result of respiratory failure — shortage of oxygen to the brain. It means my home needs prompts to remind me to do things and I keep my everyday things in the same place — my glasses, for example. Everything is easily placed so that I see what I need as I leave my back door. I’m grateful that my home is laid out to make this easy. I still forget things though.
I get confused. Writing here means words typed twice and similar. My keyboard bewilders me. I do, however, manage to shop and go to the town without mishap, except the occasional forgetting to go somewhere.
All this means I can make mistakes without realizing. It also means I could go into a coma or die at anytime. I am very vulnerable. I am 5 on the New Scale, and sometimes 6 but I refuse to go hospital unless an infection is suspected. The New Scale is what paramedics use to determine whether a person needs to go to hospital. Six is when they insist you must go. I have signed disclaimers countless times which say death is imminent.
The New Scale does not take into account that I have a neurological disease. It causes my resting heart rate to be very high. In the last two months my pulse has slowed to 83 due to the extra work it has to do. It used to be 113. Some paramedics freak out and phone clinicians and doctors. Others realize my normal is unique to me.
I keep antibiotics and steroids in my home. I can detect an infection. It’s called a “rescue pack”.
Three weeks ago, I was rushed to hospital with a respiratory obstruction. The trauma doctor was truly great. She recommended a drug that breaks down secretions in the lungs. Now I have reduced three a day to one a day as I was suffocating. My neurological disease prevents my ability to cough. My body is struggling to cope with the excess fluid from carbon dioxide.
I took my laptop with me, as I can’t relax in the ER.
Writer and psychologist. My health, a journey with two life shortening diseases 