Showing posts with label hospitals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospitals. Show all posts

Friday, 15 May 2026

Oh no… this isn’t great but maybe it is.

Oh no people! I had other things I wanted to talk about today but this entry has been trumped by recent events.

My sister called my mom over to her place and asked my mom to drive her to the ER of the local psych hospital. This is good, this is also sad. 


Sad for so so many reason. (PS. Please skip this entry if it’s too triggering) I apologise now for going off tangent. 


Over a decade ago in the UK I had a male friend who was not doing well at all. He was in a UK psych ward. When the staff were looking he managed to take his own life. 


As per the hospital where my sister is at. We once had a family friend whose adult son was not doing well. He was going to the psych hospital daily for treatment but really needed to be an inpatient. They didn’t have the space to keep him in. Sadly one evening at home, he took his life. 


I have strong feelings about the Hospital where my sister is at. Where to start….


My first job at 16 was at McDonalds. I worked a lot despite being in full time education also known as high school. The ‘mental hospital’ was a bus ride away or less than an hours walk. It was close. I would see the patients daily. They really liked McDonalds coffee and these were the days when you could smoke indoors still (this became illegal in 2006). I can still remember the yellow gnarly fingers and teeth of ‘these people’. Keep in mind that I was 16. I found ‘them’ scary and I’m not sure how compassionate I was then or now. I hope I’m a better person. I’ll always be professional but I’m also a scared little girl. Even when they would talk to me, I would respond but I was scared. These people were deemed safe enough to be out. They never hurt me, often all they would do is talk to themselves or repeat things. The brain is sooo complex and it needs care and nurturing. It’s why I’m so god damn passionate about a child’s mental health and brain development. 


The next memory is rough. I honestly can’t be bothered to scroll though very old enteries of this blog, to see if I’ve ever spoken of this. I don’t think I have. There is a whole massive story to this that I won’t go into. All you need to know is that I believe in God, the universe and divine timing. Had the evening “gone to plan” we would have got home much later to find my mom dead. Instead she was still conscious and an ambulance was called. First they brought her to an ER (I think) and the next day when I saw her, it was at the “mental hospital”. That was a very bizarre day for me. One reason is that I recognised sooo many people. Some how, all my McDonalds customers were there. Like all of them! Maybe they lived there and were allowed out in the day. Who knows, it was just ALOT. ALOT was soon trumped by my dad standing at the foot of the hospital crying about what had happened to his ex wife. This was the day that I understood that my dad loves my mom. They have never been in love, I think my father would struggle to describe what love even is. Despite that, who are any of us to describe love. All I know, is that I watched a man crying for someone he loved. What’s wild is my mom doesn’t remember several of these days. It’s black hole 🕳️ that has been wiped from her memory. Maybe that God too. We don’t talk about this day often, though I remember her shock decades later when telling her about my dad’s reaction. 


Now back to my sister. I must TRUST that she is in the best place and that they can help her. She’s so multiple medications as it stands and I believe that in itself is the issue. I don’t think any pharmaceutical company is testing all the side effects of combined medication. Think about it honestly. There are hundreds and thousands of drugs these days. Does anyone know what really happens to the brain when you take X,Y and Z together. I often come across articles of long term damage of people who smoke cannabis regularly. Think about it, it’s that’s a natural leaf that can cause permanent damage. What do pharmaceuticals do. I’m a big believer in talk therapy and I think she needs that, as much as an overhaul of what she’s on. 


That’s about it on that. How do I know where she is you ask? Well… prior to the holiday it was agreed that the 5 family members would share their live location with one another. This was mostly for airports and if we lost my dad when the ship docked in a different country. 


This evening I was having a nosey peak at where people are and noticed her location. I then called my mom to see if she knew about this and she explained how she just dropped my sister off at her request.


Final recap of the day that feels especially poignant. The vast majority of my UK friends have never even seen a photo of my family, so for the close friends, I recently sent a load from the photography package that my mom bought. (Mentioned in previous posts). When catching up today with one of these such friends, he said that it was interesting to see them. He said that I had really painted a dark picture of people with trauma. 


Fortunately or unfortunately I’ll never share these pictures on the internet but we scrub up good and look like a delightful happy, joyous family. I’m not even saying that we’re not this. All I’m trying to say is that you never really know what’s going on in someone’s life.


Until we meet again 

Moi


PS. For background blogging pleasure, I’m watching Casio Royale for the millionth time. James Bond licking Ave Greens fingers in the shower after the shootout! Has to be one of my favourite scenes. Love that he enters the shower fully clothed in his Tux to comfort her.

Thursday, 15 October 2015

Nothing makes sense

I would like to start with nothing makes any sense to me. 

Everyday seems to be a bit of an opposite of the day before. 

There are days where my theme song is I am a rock by Paul Simon. Listen to the lyrics. I don't need anyone.... I'm an island.
Then the next day I'm all about Joe Cocker With a little help from my friends. (and for those music trivia buffs, I do know this song was a Beatles original. Joe did it better)

Now ladies and gents, the million dollar question is... Do I need friends or do they continue to hurt me. Or is it me letting them affect me. I'm still working on this. 

I have not really seen or spoken to A for over 2 months. It's sad and complicated.

Other friends have really turned up which has been really nice. Really, really nice. This now brings me onto the next topic. I've said it on this blog a gazillion times but I'll say it again. It's something I was told on the Camino and it's so true. 

There are only 2 kinds of people in life. Those that turn up, and those that don't. 

I have this friend J who I met in 2011. We hung out for a bit and got to know each other. Then in summer of 2013 his behaviour was really odd, weird and he wasn't very nice to me. I know I deserve better, he was toxic, so we stopped talking. Over a year later he called me out of the blue but I was far to poorly to deal with anyone. Let's not forget this was the stage where I had a uni dread and took a shower every 5+ days. I was too weak. 

Anyhow, in late September 2015 J was surfing in Australia where he had a stoke and was also in a coma. (He's out of the coma now and talking) After being in an Australian hospital for a few weeks he has been transferred back to the UK. He's been back in the UK for about 10 days and I went to see him last night. (We still have a load of mutual friends and acquaintances who informed me about what had happened)

Let me tell you that it wasn't an easy decision to go visit. I thought about it a great deal. I'm still pissed off about his behaviour towards me 2 years ago.  But I also know what it's like to be sick and alone. I know how bad hospitals can be. I know what weak feels like. These are the reasons that made me decide to go visit him. 

Story Detour: 2 nights ago I went to the pub with my housemate S (he's the other teacher. Not D who's also a teacher and lives with me) S heard the whole story and agreed that J behaviour was odd. Well now I'm drunk at the pub with S, I text J to see if he wants me to bring him anything tomorrow. I suggested a nice blanket. Hospital linen is soooo bad. J says a warm blanket would be good. Once home I look in my trunk of great blankets and picked a massive wool one. Natural fibres are the best.

Right! So now the actual visit, when I get to the hospital he has a huge beard. By the time the night was over my brutal honesty was in full fledge. I told him he looks like the Amish. He went bald in his 20's and with the beard at that length it's  funny.

When I arrived I gave him the wool blanket and said hello to the 3 other visitors he had. One of whom I know and the other 2 know a bunch of my other friends.  One of them made some chocolate moose, another went to the pharmacy to pick up some massage oil. I guess they were all trying do their bit. We all chatted and the list of visitors he has had came up, it's been quite long and impressive. Lots of nice folks that I know loosely.

Due to the stroke he is currently paralysed on his left side. There are still dong tests but intensive Physio is on the programme. I have no clinical knowledge nor do I really understand our brains etc. However... I feel that he will get back to where he needs to be. Fit, healthy and occasionally pissing people off. How's that for good ol'fashion Leena optimism. I can just feel that it's going to be ok. 

After the visitor friends left I was able to be myself more. It's funny how in my old age I'm not as comfortable in groups. I started tiding up and asking more important questions. One of which was why was he wearing these god awful green, thin pj's. He's not really sure where his blue pj's are but the rest of his clothing need a wash. 

Warning readers: this is the part where I inflate my ego and bitch about the world. Where the fuck are practical people. What the fuck has happened to common sense and helping your neighbour. Why does everyone only think about themselves, their kids and spouse. That's it, that's all. Why aren't all these smart kind visitors actually asking the right questions? Who's cleaning your flat, where's your missing passport? It's not in the envelope where you think it is. Are you cold at night? Should I bring you a blanket? Why don't I take your laundry home and wash it. 

Well folks! That's what I did. After over 2 years of not talking to this guy, there I was last night washing his clothes. I'll return them to him tomorrow.

I would also like to add that boys can be real pricks sometimes and it's totally good and necessary to call them an asshole when needed. I've called plenty of guys assholes in my time and they actually love me more. Really, go ask them. Once his friends left, I called him an asshole. I might have even called him a fucker too.

I would like to end this entry with the fact that I will always be a forever optimist. I know the world has some major issues going on but I still have hope that there are a few more people out there like me. (Preferably a hot male with a good sperm count)

So last week S (house mate) had a bag full of clothing that he was going to give to a local charity shop on the high street. I stopped him immediately and said,  'No, it's going to the Syrians.' S is totally cool and replied 'Sure but there are loads of ties in the bag too. Will they want it?'

My optimistic reply was, 'They are eventually going to get jobs and will need a tie for their interview'

The end
Peace out
xx