autism related · life updates · random musings

Blood Consent and Hospital Visits. (Part 2.)

So in part 1 (which thankfully was the last post too,) I mentioned how there was a horror for another day and today was that day. I talked about how I hate hospitals too. So for this post I’m going to digest what happened today, because I feel like things need to be said and I’m going to share a part of my journey that never talked about.

First of all, today. Well I’m currently having a really sh*t day, sh*t enough to start necking straight gin at 2pm. So…yeah… I’m having an ‘amazing’ time. Today I went to the doctors for that referral letter to have my blood grouped. So regardless of how messed up not being allowed just to simply and freely find out what blood group I am, yet you can have free STD tests practically every day, all day, if you want…I’m getting distracted. That’s not because of the alcohol. Let’s start again. I’ve mentioned how I have sever anxiety issues. One of my triggers is being at my the doctors. (I’ll explain more about that later in this post.) Well I’d been showing signs of improvement, until today. I hadn’t had one in almost a month. I was starting to think that I had passed some sort of hurdle. Instead today I was proved wrong and had my arse kicked down a few pegs by the universe. Today I had one of the worst panic attacks I’ve had in a very long while. It lasted over 45 minutes and at some points due to having a cold, my throat started closing up. My nose was bunged up too. This meant for what felt like 10 minutes I was suffocating. I literally could not breath. Which by the way, when you are in a panic situation the last thing you want to do is have it escalate to a crisis. I was on my own. I had lost my phone out of my pyjama pocket. I couldn’t move. My hands were clenched in a death grip that started to pull my duvet apart. I was already struggling to get a handle on my breathing. My heart felt like I had drunk 40 espressos. I already couldn’t think straight so I couldn’t do my usual calming exercise.

At this point my brain had already hit every panic and warning button it could. That was when I stopped breathing. ENTIRELY. 

It felt like a giant weight had hold of my throat and was crushing it. I couldn’t gasp. I couldn’t scream. My body started shaking. My vision was going blurry around the edges and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. For the second time in my life, I was filled with sheer terror and I thought I was going to die. I genuinely believed I was going to die. Right there, alone, in my room, without ever reaching my goals, without ever feeling human. This isn’t the first time I’ve come close to death. Truthfully it’s probably not even the 10th time. However in that state of sheer panic, it was probably the closest I’ve ever got. That’s only just hit me now.

Somehow I didn’t black out. Instead I was thrown into another panic attack because I thought I was going to die. It’s a vicious cycle, that I’m fully aware of. Thankfully after 40 minutes my mother came into my room. Usualy I hate her being in my room and she’s definitely the last person I want to see when having a panic attack. She didn’t even do a good job of calming me down. Instead she pulled me into a sitting position, pulled me into her shoulder and patted me on my back, whilst telling me how stupid it was and that I was stupid for getting so worked up. However the change in pace broke my chain of thought and I was able to do my calming exercise whilst coughing and trying to get air in my lungs. I eventually calmed down. However I felt stupid, I wanted to cry, I couldn’t think straight and I could barely walk. I pretty much buckled at the knees the first few times I tried to walk.

So I got bundled into the car, my mum had to walk me into the doctors and I had no choice but to lean on her. By the time I got to the seating area after booking myself in, I just collapsed on a chair and propped up myself on a column. I looked like I was on something. My pupils were small. I could hardly speak and my eyes were bloodshot. I ended up pulling my hood up, putting my sunglasses on, and curled into a fetal position on the chair. (Little side note: the fact that I was showing this externally is a big thing. I never show how bad I really am on the outside.) My head was hurting, my lungs burning, everything was so bright it was like needles in my eyes and every child’s scream was like acid in my ears.

So as I waited hours to be seen I had a new battle on my hands; trying to stay conscious. Those who have seen me cry hard or have a panic attack know that after a while I get so tired that I will just shut off. It’s like passing out and falling asleep at the same time. Usually it’s uncontrollable if I have a migraine but I managed to keep a handle on it until I got home. However there were times where I was sat with my eyes fully closed almost asleep. Thankfully I’m not allowed to go to the doctors on my own and I decided to use this to my advantage. This was something I started awhile back because I felt like I needed a witness to what was going on. I also started recording my appointments. (Sh*t got that bad.)

So the doctors appointment actually went sort of smoothly. It p*sses me off so much that I had to waste a valuable appointment to get a letter which in all fairness could have been done by admin. However, here’s the point to all this, I had some realisations today. This is the part I feel like I need to get off my chest. I’ll break this down seeing as I spent so much time explaining the first part.

The first realisation: despite my earlier post about women, there is a type I hate. I hate pregnant women. I know, essential to the continuation of your race blah blah blah. However there is a horrible trend I have noticed recently in young mums right now. They are incredibly violent, volatile and feral and they get away with it because they’re pregnant. I really do not think this is ok. It’s not suitable for women to act like this at any time. Pregnant or not. Actually scratch that. It’s not ok for anyone to act like that. Let me describe a the scene… Vanilla and hospital blue waiting area that looks pretty standard. Lots of people are sick and actually waiting to be seen. There’s also young mums scattered around.  There are rules in the waiting room that state; children are not allowed to run around, they have to be accompanied by an adult at all times, they have to stay quiet because it’s a waiting area for sick people and they don’t want to listen to screaming. You would think this was expected behaviour in this environment. Hell anyone with manners should stick to these rules. It’s not a daycare center or social club for crying out loud. So this child who genetically part Jamaican and has the skin, hair and such, was running around, causing hell, shouting, and being a nuisance got stopped by a member of security because there had been complaints. She pointed out towards the rules and explained to the child. Yes she may have reached out to him and yes that may be wrong but he wasn’t paying attention and she was just trying to bring his attention back to the notice with the rules on. However she was nowhere near the child and the mother snapped from across the other side of the waiting area. She went from focused on her phone to ballistic in 2 seconds. She was not rational and didn’t act like she should have done. Instead she went right overboard, treated the security women like a rapist and started to threaten her with physical violence. It literally was about to come to blows right in the middle of the waiting area. Long story short the security woman will probably lose her job, for not doing anything offensive and getting screamed at by an out of control woman. (I wanted to slap the stupid bitch across the face at this point and had an autistic meltdown.) Feminism and women’s rights are one thing but when the f*ck is it ok that we as a society, just let this happen. This is not proper behaviour. The childbearing women of any race should be treated with respect, allowed to sit and put their feet up and chill whilst the baby forms and does it’s thing. I’m all up for giving pregnant women an unlimited supply of biscuits, hot chocolate, foot rubs and hugs because at the end of the day they are doing something to continue our existence. However I’ll compare it for you. Say if I had done the exact same thing (minus the kid because hell no,) and threatened a security member with physical violence and proceeded to attack, the outcome would be very different. The police would have been called, I could have been tasered then restrained and carted away. I would have lost face and forfeited my appointment slot.

Second realisation: I hate when people use the race/discrimination card. So I missed out a part of my story earlier. The WHITE, pregnant, mother of the misbehaving child claimed security were picking on her because her race was different to the security woman’s so she was clearly a racist. If I hadn’t had been trying my best to handle a full blown autistic breakdown and not scream my lungs out I would have gone over and explained that you actually had to be a different race to play that card. Both the parties were white and local to the area, and not from another country. However the child was and the women could have just been trying to say her child was the one being discriminated. I could fully understand that. However she didn’t say that and if today’s performance was anything to go off, she was being singled out because she wasn’t upholding her duty of care for her offspring and it was running riot. This woman clearly knows nothing of true discrimination and the pain it brings. You wouldn’t act that way if she truely believed she was being discriminated. She would know here rights, defend her corner and put in a god dammned compliant. I know I’m getting wound up, but that security woman will probably loose her job on 2 counts. I on the other hand have been beaten, shot at, run over, abused, and denied treatment and all of THOSE things were on grounds of discrimination and it really p*sses me off when people do stupid sh*t like this and it gets followed up accordingly. Plus the town I live in thinks it’s so great at dealing with discrimination because it always responds to these events and yet (in my experience) never turns out to a serious incident like the ones I’ve been involved in. So because of this my town thinks it can parade around like a peacock saying they’re “a discrimination free town”.

Third realisation: my family really doesn’t get that I am seriously ill.  I mean mentally ill by the way. This one hit me after we left the doctors because my mother made me feel worse about my earlier freak out. (She didn’t even respond to my autistic meltdown. She just ignored me.) She told me that the doctors was no big deal after all and it was nothing to worry about. That’s not even the issue. What is the issue is that I have been refused treatment, victimised and in regards to my care the doctors I see there have broken the law. They are not allowed to accuse a patient about lying about being trans. They are also NOT allowed to refuse a patient a referral for any care/treatment. My doctors have and they laughed at me whilst doing it. They should be thrown out of the NHS for what they’ve done to me. If they’d just done as they were supposed to I would; a)feel human right now, b)feel alive, c) not be heading for a mental brake down, d) be able to go outside and I wouldn’t have the anxiety I have now, e) this is the most important, I’d be able to live my life and love my fiance like he deserves, instead of being this shell of a man.

If my doctors had followed the rules I wouldn’t have had to live the last 4 years of my life in fear, hating myself and wanting to throw myself off bridges/out of windows. Knowing that, that hurts.

All my doctor had to do was write a letter, and that is why I freaked out today. The letter for something I don’t necessarily want would get written. Yet the letter that would save my life…lies dead in that place. No one in my family gets this. My mum still thinks I’m stupid. That’s why I’m mildly inebriated, have consumed half a bottle or sloe gin, and am blogging and crying at the same time. I’m broken because some dick won’t write a letter.

It may be a letter that governs my happiness and my life, but it’s still just a letter. An A4 piece of low grade, white, printer paper with black ink on it.

So I think I’ve got this all out of my system now. So thanks to any one who bothers reading this and the internet that holds this sh*t. Getting it out makes me feel better. And also  I have a bard friend that has joined the cheer Hiko the f*ck up quest. Which is great.

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