Friday, February 25, 2011
"free healthcare" will kill you
After recent adventures in the healthcare system, it has become painfully clear that free healthcare will kill us. Yes....dead....kill us. Thinking back in something the surgeon said to my husband, I started researching a medication the. VA prescribed to him over a year ago. He took it because he was told he needed it. He was not told that this medication was a "last resort" medication, meaning that other meds had been prescribed for treatment and had failed before this one was to be prescribed. Note, he had NOT been I on ANY meds for "high tryglycerides" prior to this, the VA quack wrote the script out of the blue. Nor were we told side effects to this medication was pancrititis, liver damage, gallstones and gallbladder removal. Yes once again we will fix your tryglycerides, but kill you in the process. I'm sure all of you by now are yelling "fire that quack and get a good Dr!!!!" Not so fast there speedy, you see once you are Assigned to a quack in this "free" healthcare system, it actually takes an act of congress to get another doc and that's ONLY if the quack you're trying to leave does not object. So now what are your choices? The va is a free healthcare system that our veterans are stuck with. Care provided by staff that other hospitals would never employ. I am not refering to the speciality clinic Drs. The majority are fantastic docs trying to take good care of our vets when someone else has already done their damage. Is this what you people really want? To be nothing more than a number and a test subject? You can shove your "free" Heathcare, I'm rather fond of living.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
I choose to be offended.....
Sometimes it seems that we can solve the worlds problems and issues with a pot of coffee and a good, intelligent thought provoking conversation. Recently, we were discussing situations in which we learned something and took that away with us for life. In the 9th grade,
I was seated next to a gentleman with blue hair and piercings in mr jones biology class. Being the early 80's this was something new and I wasn't quite sure how to take this individual. His name was Adam. At first, I was reluctant to have much to do with Adam, As he didn't fit the "norm". As time went on we became good friends and I was able to admit to him some time later that I was actually uncomfortable by his appearance and that was why we didn't talk sooner. Rather than being upset he smiled at me, hugged me and made a statement that has stated with me from that moment on...."to each his own my love". (Adam was in theater as well I'm sure the line came from one of the many plays he was in)
Earlier this week I was involved in another conversation in which I took away another tidbit. I had stared to each his own in which came the reply "I choose to be offended". The point was made that when someone does or says something that we find offensive, it's because we choose to be offended. no one had the power or ability to offend us unless we give them that power. Just wanted to give everyone a little food for thought on this Wednesday.
I was seated next to a gentleman with blue hair and piercings in mr jones biology class. Being the early 80's this was something new and I wasn't quite sure how to take this individual. His name was Adam. At first, I was reluctant to have much to do with Adam, As he didn't fit the "norm". As time went on we became good friends and I was able to admit to him some time later that I was actually uncomfortable by his appearance and that was why we didn't talk sooner. Rather than being upset he smiled at me, hugged me and made a statement that has stated with me from that moment on...."to each his own my love". (Adam was in theater as well I'm sure the line came from one of the many plays he was in)
Earlier this week I was involved in another conversation in which I took away another tidbit. I had stared to each his own in which came the reply "I choose to be offended". The point was made that when someone does or says something that we find offensive, it's because we choose to be offended. no one had the power or ability to offend us unless we give them that power. Just wanted to give everyone a little food for thought on this Wednesday.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
What happens when you have OCD and PTSD, Oy Vey!
Recently, as some of you may know, there has been some stress in our house. Everything seemed to hit at once, and that is never a good thing. I quickly learned that even in times of emergence, I can still hold things together and I can still maintain a level head. I also learned that when everything is said and done, and the last insensitive idiot has reaked their havock and done their damage, the PTSD is still there. And it comes back with a screaming vengence that only Judas Priest would understand.
This time I actually found that due to the actions and words of others, it seemed like my PTSD was a beast that I was never to tame again and no matter what I did, what I said, I could not put the beast back into it's cage and make it lie dormant like it has for so many years previously. At one point, I was actually accused of trying to be the center of attention, rather than it be recognized that there was actually something wrong with me, because as we know, if there is something wrong with SJ, then maybe the rest of us may have issues as well, and you know, we don't want to have to deal with that.
After waking up in the middle of the night screaming and crying until I couldnt cry anymore, being so exhausted that I couldn't function, I decided that it was time to talk to someone. I had an issue that I could no longer contain, no longer control. The beast that I had kept in it's cage for so long had now escaped, taken a bite out of me like my name was Roy and it couldn't be contained again. I found that I was pulling in, pulling away, and it was easier that way, as I did not want to deal, to cope with what was going on. To make matters worse, I also have OCD, meaning that once a tought pops into my brain, the left brain grabs it and refuses to let it go. It obsessives over it and refuses to let it go, be it good or bad.
I talked to a mental health professional that assured me that I was not crazy and explained what triggered my PTSD. Something so simple as the way we treat someone in a stressful situation can be just like pulling the trigger of a gun. The way I was treated and talked to during all this stress, not by just one, but by mutiple people was just like standing infront of a firing squad. It was clear in looking back, that here I was on the front line, a general if you will, leading my troops into battle, having every thought and scernio cross my mind as to what I was going to do, what was plan b, how and what I was going to do to bring my troops back alive and unscathed, and no one, not a single person was concerned about my mental health and well being. The slew of messages that I received demanding to know what was going on, as if their need to know was the only need to know that mattered. The individuals that felt because they thought they knew someone, over stepped their bounds, made decisions that were not theirs to make, and acted as if the general knew nothing of leading troops into battle and undermined my orders. The excuses that were made for these people as my feelings were dismissed, "they didn't mean it that way" "they only meant well" blah blah blah. Regardless of how well meaning it was meant, if something makes us upset, if something rattles us to our very core, then they are OUR feelings and we are justified in that.
As you can see, I was told I could not keep this to myself and it was something I needed to talk about. I didn't feel that I needed to. I was told I can not recontain the beast and let the nightmares go and begin to heal unless I got all this off my chest. I asked if beating those offending individuals with a shovel would do, as I would find that very satisfying. I was told there would not be enough bail money with the list of offenders I have that need beating.
Please take note, the next time you think you mean well, please think before you open your mouth. The next time you think your actions will be received well, please ask before you act. Some of us carry crosses that we bear that you or anyone else will never know about, may never see. We don't like to see them ourselves. Your actions and words may effect someone just as a firing squad would. Don't.
This time I actually found that due to the actions and words of others, it seemed like my PTSD was a beast that I was never to tame again and no matter what I did, what I said, I could not put the beast back into it's cage and make it lie dormant like it has for so many years previously. At one point, I was actually accused of trying to be the center of attention, rather than it be recognized that there was actually something wrong with me, because as we know, if there is something wrong with SJ, then maybe the rest of us may have issues as well, and you know, we don't want to have to deal with that.
After waking up in the middle of the night screaming and crying until I couldnt cry anymore, being so exhausted that I couldn't function, I decided that it was time to talk to someone. I had an issue that I could no longer contain, no longer control. The beast that I had kept in it's cage for so long had now escaped, taken a bite out of me like my name was Roy and it couldn't be contained again. I found that I was pulling in, pulling away, and it was easier that way, as I did not want to deal, to cope with what was going on. To make matters worse, I also have OCD, meaning that once a tought pops into my brain, the left brain grabs it and refuses to let it go. It obsessives over it and refuses to let it go, be it good or bad.
I talked to a mental health professional that assured me that I was not crazy and explained what triggered my PTSD. Something so simple as the way we treat someone in a stressful situation can be just like pulling the trigger of a gun. The way I was treated and talked to during all this stress, not by just one, but by mutiple people was just like standing infront of a firing squad. It was clear in looking back, that here I was on the front line, a general if you will, leading my troops into battle, having every thought and scernio cross my mind as to what I was going to do, what was plan b, how and what I was going to do to bring my troops back alive and unscathed, and no one, not a single person was concerned about my mental health and well being. The slew of messages that I received demanding to know what was going on, as if their need to know was the only need to know that mattered. The individuals that felt because they thought they knew someone, over stepped their bounds, made decisions that were not theirs to make, and acted as if the general knew nothing of leading troops into battle and undermined my orders. The excuses that were made for these people as my feelings were dismissed, "they didn't mean it that way" "they only meant well" blah blah blah. Regardless of how well meaning it was meant, if something makes us upset, if something rattles us to our very core, then they are OUR feelings and we are justified in that.
As you can see, I was told I could not keep this to myself and it was something I needed to talk about. I didn't feel that I needed to. I was told I can not recontain the beast and let the nightmares go and begin to heal unless I got all this off my chest. I asked if beating those offending individuals with a shovel would do, as I would find that very satisfying. I was told there would not be enough bail money with the list of offenders I have that need beating.
Please take note, the next time you think you mean well, please think before you open your mouth. The next time you think your actions will be received well, please ask before you act. Some of us carry crosses that we bear that you or anyone else will never know about, may never see. We don't like to see them ourselves. Your actions and words may effect someone just as a firing squad would. Don't.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
