Most of you may not know, though I am quite open about it. I am bipolar.
I have been on medication for many years, and this past years “year of hell” certainly did not help things.
January of last year I was hurt on the job. I was walking out of a customers house and slipped on their driveway. It. Hurt. Immediately calling my boss (my co-workers for the day had no idea what to do — and we had a girl with us that was on her first day; what a way to experience it), they suggested they come get them. My car was being used for the day, thus began my 24 hours of hell.
The “new girl” drove us back to work where my manager my cracking jokes and ignoring the intense pain I was in, wanting me to remove my jacket to see the injury. Trust me. I knew it was bad, I could feel it and the shape it was in. When she finally decided to call my husband, he came running with his First Aid kit (I guess the bosses had told him I hurt my wrist — I think it was a lot more than just “hurt my wrist”).
We got to the hospital and they took off my coat. The entire Triage area and waiting “injured and sick” all gasped. My arm was a W shape. I was rushed back to the back, leaving my “hubby” (now in shock from what it looked like) having to try to remember my birthdate, etc. So the runaround began.
I had to have morphine and a temporary splint put on to stabilize it. Well I got the splint.. the morphine? Well I was put into ANOTHER room, sitting there for what felt like a half hour, including the time some random orderly came in to say “Hello” (I was in shock and was NOT there to get hit on..) then disappeared. Finally got my “hit” and was put in the hall awaiting an x-ray..with 10 other people.
The girl next to me had an IV drip and was hacking up a lung, I was dying of thirst and not allowed to even have an ice cube to suck on 25 minutes later I got into x-ray “Oh WOW! This is bad” (Ya no kidding, I thought) shuffling me into yet another room with Winnie the Pooh, etc on the walls.
25 minutes later my arm was reset (including hubby bringing out 5 year old into the room..), and was sent home with a prescription for Morphine. At midnight? I was throwing up all night. Had the stomach flu now from the experience.
Flash forward the first round of physiotherapy, then WSIB deciding it wasn’t working and wanted me to see “their people”.. months went by using “their people” and it seemed to be working, but the pain was UNREAL. The beginning of December 2013 I was finally scheduled for surgery (accumulating over 2000 points with VIA rail from all the overnight trips to Toronto and back) and had it Friday December 13, 2013.
It’s now been a few months, I finally have use of my wrist again (though I will now be considered “partially disabled” for the rest of my life). Thanks job.
At least I never have to (nor can I) go back to that hell of a job. The countless hours of emotional bs and making my way through the journey I took since my accident has also required more shrink appointments and an UP in meds. My doctor has finally agreed to put me on a type of medication that is so far working. Living as a bipolar parent has its drawbacks, especially having to explain things to my husband.
Needless to say it’s been one HELL of a year.