Where's Bella?

I know it's been just over two weeks now since I last posted... In case you couldn't guess, things have been pretty full-on in my little world. There have been seizures, ambulance rides, sneaking out, breakdowns, confessions, appointments and infections.

I've been trying to write a post for weeks with no luck. The two most significant events were probably the big group appointment with the new Mental Health Nurse, my dietician and GP, and the fact I landed in A&E last weekend after suffering from a couple of seizures. 

(The sneaking out story is also pretty epic, in a 'who are you and what've you done with Bella?' kind of way, complete with jumping fences, so I'll save that for a post of it's own.)

The first seizure happened early in the morning. I have no memory of it, and wouldn't have known it happened if I'd not woken up being asked if I was okay. I assumed it was a one off, and didn't think much of it.

Then, around midday, I had another seizure. Knowing my luck, I was sat on the toilet at the time. This one lasted much longer, around 10 minutes compared to 30 seconds earlier.
I'm covered in cuts and bruises, still. I smashed a ceramic toilet roll holder on the way down, though thankfully avoided going head-first through the asbestos wall.

Mum called an ambulance and I spent ~5 hours in A&E, panicking about being in the same building as the Horrible Psychiatrist, not being able to go to the private hospital because they 'don't do seizures'. Billy whimpered and howled so loudly when mum was on the phone, the operator could hear him on the other end of the line.

Apparently one of the ambos had attended me when I had seizures in a similar situation earlier in the year. Including the time I randomly passed out and hit my head while weighing myself, that's the third ambulance call-out I've had this year. (I got the bill this morning - $1,690. Pay your Ambulance Membership/cherish your pension, folks.)

I don't really want to go into it that much, but my GP thinks it was a combination of smoking and not having slept the night before. I wrote a little about it here, but mostly don't really talk about my smoking. In fact, I think this is only the second time I've mentioned synthetics on here - the first time being when I last had seizures.

The doctor in A&E gave me a lecture about the dangers of synthetics and the risk of permanent damage. After some years on-and-off synthetics, and the natural stuff, I probably know this better than anyone. It scares the shit out of me. But what scares me more, is that it isn't enough to stop it.


Then, on Wednesday, I had my big appointment with the new mental health nurse, with both my dietician and GP there. It was the first time I've seen her in months. My GP was in the waiting room when I got there, and the dietician came in a few minutes later.

The MHN started saying she'd thought about writing a letter for the past few months, but wasn't sure if it'd be overstepping boundaries since we'd only had the one appointment. She said she wasn't sure if something she'd said came across the wrong way, and that humans aren't infallible. I couldn't bring it up. It seemed so obvious to me - how can she not know?

My GP spoke for a bit about her role and the structure of the team, how my appointments work and a bit about what's been going on for me lately. She bought up the topic of a 'potential relationship' (and that's a whole 'nother post, jesus christ, it's been a crazy few weeks). The dietician looked excited and grabbed my knee.
  "Name?"
  "Not worth talking about."
So yeah.

The dietician spoke for a bit about her role, and explained how weigh-ins are working - every 6 weeks, with a need for open honesty with the numbers and no room for miscommunication. That said, I was supposed to be weighed last week, but didn't (...I think).


I was supposed to see the MHN again this week, but didn't get there. I knew I'd had another rough weekend, particularly with meds and self-harm. There's been a lot of trauma-related stuff bubbling to the surface, but again, that's another post. I was stoked to see the dietician on Thursday, because apart from the team appointment, I hadn't seen her in a month.

I went in, and we were chatting for a while, and then she commented that I was looking a lot better than Tuesday. Apparently I was a total wreck and completely beside myself. Mum had deemed it an emergency, and so I went to see the dietician, and made an appointment for the GP later that morning. I had no memory of seeing the dietician, or the GP, or the nurse, or the days surrounding.


tl;dr, I'm not dead


xxBella