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So, recovery from a second ankle surgery in less than a year has gone poorly.
After nearly dying twice after surgery, and not being able to control my pain, I wound up calling my psychiatrist one Wednesday morning, rambling on that I was going to take all my pills.
About 6 hours later, she tried to call me back but couldn't reach me as I was already on the phone.
My soon to be ex went outside to put the garbage to the road when the paramedics showed up. He told them we hadn't called them.
I sat on the porch with them, and the police when they showed up. I was extremely rapid cycling, crying one minute, then laughing the next.
They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital, and I responded that I might as well.
When I got there, I was taken almost immediately to the emergency psychiatric unit where I was assessed for physical well was given that I'd just had surgery a week prior.
I then spoke to the on call psychiatrist, he told me he didn't feel comfortable letting me go home, and put me in on a 72 hour hold, which wound up lasting 2 weeks.
I got up there and slept through the night, and through most of the day on Thursday.
Thursday evening I'd ventured out of my room to the lounge, in my crutches. I sat and watched a movie, but when I tried to go back to my room, I couldn't get there.
I was suffering from sudden chest pain. They got me back to my room, called the on-call doctors who ran a bunch of tests and found nothing.
I stayed in my room while I was there, had my meals in bed, just kept to myself.
By the first Saturday morning, I was ill. I was freezing to death, wearing a sweater and 2 blankets, still freezing, but sweating at the same time.
I was in and out of the bathroom, food going right through me. I thought I'd picked up a bug.
Monday morning arrived, the staff psychiatrist came in, and after listening to my symptoms, told me I was in withdrawal from my pain meds.
Withdrawal went on for a week, I lost about 15lbs in that time. I vowed never to go through withdrawal again.
The week before I went home, I had to go home on a pass to get my scooter for my post op appointment the day after.
That was a miserable visit, my husband becoming cold, callous and verbally abusive to me. He had me in tears and even threw my stuff on the lawn knowing I couldn't get it.
I was never so happy to go back to the inpatient ward, I broke down crying when I got back, told the nurse what had happened.
I left the hospital 2 weeks after arriving, feeling a little better mentally, but knowing I had to go home to more abuse.
During my recovery, and for the rest of my life, I will be getting ketamine infusions for the pain in my ankle.
The infusions have a welcome side effect of stabilizing my mood for about a month.
I was stable until last week. Now I'm extremely emotional, been crying off and on since last Friday. Last Friday marked the 1 year anniversary of my first surgery, the one that ruined my life.
Anyways, my mood has been up and down, but relief is possibly in sight. I will be moving out as the divorce will be final very soon.
I have a new boyfriend in my life, he understands bipolar, so I know he's ok with me having it. I hope he's the one.
My next ketamine infusion is on the 13th, and I'm looking forward to the stability I will have.
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