The Story of Ending Up in Emergency

Whilst I was very drowsy and not very with it, I do have a hazy memory of what happened. I remember laying in bed in the afternoon with my mother asking if I was okay. I told her I was. About an hour after she first asked, she cottoned on that I had taken an OD. I hit the floor upon trying to get up out of bed, which foiled her plan to take me to hospital. An ambulance was called…after she asked my fourteen year old brother what the number was. The second time in an ambulance and I’d still have no idea what the inside of it was like if you asked. I remember falling heavily into the wheelchair on arrival at the ED before being put on a bed. Vaguely remember being given an ECG, having a cannula put in by the doctor and given fluids, having a student nurse look after me and being interviewed by the psych liaison nurse. Think I met her back in May actually. The only part of the conversation I remember now is when she asked me what I wanted from ODing again, as I knew what would happen from doing it before.

The next day she came to speak to me again with a doctor. This time I was a bit more with it. The plan was to send me to the private hospital where my psychiatrist is, however, they didn’t have a bed available. And so the options then were; go home and await contact from the private hospital, wait in the ED for a bed in private hospital, or go to a public psych ward. I chose home. But I couldn’t convince them I could stay safe over the weekend and my ‘ambivalence’ worried her. The decision was made for me to spend another day in the ED. Oh the joys.

It was somewhat embarrassing to be recognised from my trip to the ED a week earlier. One nurse saw me and exclaimed, “Weren’t you here just two or three days ago?” “Umm…it was a week ago…” I replied. Another psych liaison nurse too added when he introduced himself to me, “I think I met you three or four weeks ago.” I didn’t bother correcting him, informing him it was only a week. He was the one who finally got me a bed. Not at the private psych clinic, but at the psych ward of another public hospital, where there was a bed. Which is where I am now, and have been since Sunday afternoon. I’ve been told they’re moving me to the private psych clinic when a bed becomes available…but at this rate it’ll be next friggin’ year ’til that happens…

3 thoughts on “The Story of Ending Up in Emergency

  1. Oh love. I’m sorry, I could see from your recent posts that things were not heading in a good direction but I hope you will be getting the help you need now.

    I can relate to meeting the same psychiatric liason people/treating doctors/etc. at A+E. We are on first name terms now. Somewhat embarassing.

    Here’s hoping that the private psych clinic can offer you some safety and stability…

    outwardly x

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