Showing posts with label writings from the head hospital - read at your own peril. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writings from the head hospital - read at your own peril. Show all posts

asking

for help
is not something I'm good at

in fact it's something I'm not good at, at all

wasn't able to as a child, didn't know there was any; wasn't able to as a teenager, there wasn't any; wasn't able to in my 20s/30s (altho lots of people relied on me for it - how is that? that the one not able to ask a friend for help becomes the friend who can always be relied upon to dish it out?) (I know there's an answer to that one, I'm just not sure what it is)

and as for my 40s, I haven't been able to ask as often as I've needed help - there's a bit of a chasm still

today was probably the Most Difficult Day I've had since I came out of the Head Clinic

I'm still here,
which is something
I suppose

I'm mainly only still here because everysingletime Mini-Teen has had a tricky time recently (she's had more than I've written about) (so many that I'm totally exhausted by her) I am so so so so glad that I am still here for her; everysingletime Teen Too has looked at me with that teen 'oh g*d mum, you're so embarassing' horror on his face, it a fascinating thought that he is growing up and finding his own way finally not in his brother's shadow and on his own terms and no mine and I'm honoured to be a witness to the process; and everysingletime The Teen walks in the door he shouts out hello? to check if I'm in and then proceeds to tell me how crap his day was and how everyone hates him but that's ok cos he hates them and what time is dinner and what is dinner and oh why? do we have to have that? can't we have something else? and oh by the way how was your day. . . I'm just glad he's speaking to me again

I'm also mainly only here because I did ask for help today and I received help. . . got thru a half a box of Kleenex getting it. . .

now my eyes are puffy
and I need my sleep

X

"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you"

there is a garden here, where I smoke
.
depending on my mood, or the weather, I sit in different places in the garden
.
this morning the sun is very bright and strong and sat in my "it's sunny this morning, I'm feeling 50%+" place and bathed in its warmth

it felt good! I had to close my eyes, such was the sun's strength. . .
.
.
I also sit there in the "50%+/not raining" evenings and a little mouse comes out to nibble away at the weeds and seeds - s/he is a tiny field mouse, and because I sit so still s/he doesn't know I'm there and just goes about his/her business until someone else walks past on the path and then s/he freezes until s/he feels it is safe enough to run away; I digress

there is a small bush nearby, of some kind of daisy - marguerite or aster is as technical as I can get
.
not as pretty as the ordinary daisies you get in a lawn, but sweet none the less
..
.
and as I've been here I've watched the budding flowers open and bloom and fade, the petals drop and the dead heads shrivel. . .
.
there is no gardener. . .
.
. . .which means noone removes the dead heads
.
my mother was very big on gardening and one of the things she unknowingly taught me was that to keep your daisy bush flowering throughout the summer (and I know that applies to other plants too) you must snap off the dead heads; then the plant doesn't put its energy into making seeds, but will create a new flower
.
(of course, a seed for a wild plant is actually quite important, but we're talking cultivation, so we'll overlook that for the moment) (part of me wants to digress to phoenixes and ashes, but I'll resist that as well)
.
so, there I was, sitting in the sunshine, wondering how many more beautiful flowers that daisy plant would be able to produce, if only someone took the time to snap off the dead heads
..
are you
with me,
dear reader. . .

as flat as a proverbial

.
and no, I'm not referring to my breasts. . .
.
(but while we're on the subject, perhaps we'll contemplate it for a while. . .)
.
.
( . . .and I feel perfectly comfortable doing that because since Saturday evening I have been accompanied to the loo and bathroom everytime nature has called or I've needed a wash and brush up)
.
(I had told them I pushed the blades down the plughole) (which I had done, seeing as at the time I didn't think I'd be using the bathroom again and didn't want anyone else to get hurt by mistake) (but seeing as how I wasn't supposed to have blades in the first place you can hardly blame them for wanting to make sure I don't find some other way to do something that they don't want me to do)
..
(the only reason I had a blade in the first place was cos I'd asked XCH if he could bring me a lady-shave as my underarms were looking slightly like a bush [and I knew I wasn't allowed a razor, which is why I'd asked for a lady-shave] but only being a bloke he didn't know the difference and so brought me a pink girly razor from home. . .)
.
(at the time my head was so screwed up by the non-dominant-unilateral-ECT I'd had on Friday [the bilateral procedure producing too many memory issues for TGD to be comfortable with] that I kind of thought it was providence) (of sorts) (obviously the fact they say I am seriously depressed must have played a part too, right? for me to want to pop the little blades out of the razor and slice up the inside of my arm and the back of my hand) (the back of my hand cut went straight into an artery and blood spurted right up and out of me and across the bathroom to the wall on the other side) (just like it does in the films) (the inside of my arm slicing proved more difficult, I only managed to get to a few veins, and my veins are crap and just pack up at the slightest interference anyhow, as many a phlebotomist has found over the years) (the thick white thing I thought was the artery that the silly little blade wouldn't cut thru, was a tendon, apparently) (I only studied Head & Neck and Chest Anatomy at Uni) where was I? oh, I know. . .
.
a body is only a body, we've all got them, there's nothing special about mine, and seeing as how it might have made its way into the ground by now, via a crematorium, I have no problem with someone joining me in the bathroom
.
but that wasn't what I was going to say
.
what I was going to say was that the dose of the new drug that they put me on at the weekend, which apparently is a "mood stabilizer", and which had actually vaguely enhanced (in a +ve manner) my mood by Monday, has been increased with the result that my mood has stabilized to a flatness equivalent to Table Mountain
..
(I did have a nice piccie of Table Mountain, only blogger's playing silly buggers tonight) (I also had a picture of a salt lake in Bolivia that's equally flat, but that wouldn't load that either) (so you're stuck with the Nazca Plains. . .)
.
.
I'll skip the more obvious comments about aliens and Erik Von Daniken and just apologise for the fact I'm probably coming across as a little bit grumpy and lacklustre and haven't really had the energy to visit you (yes you!) and say something amusing or interesting (she writes, hoping that that's what she normally does) but presumably at some stage in the not too distant future they'll get the meds right and I'll be back to my old self
.
or a new version of her
.
and in the meantime, just be pleased that you're not a member of the 24hour care staff who has to watch and be present at my every action - the food in here is gruesome
.
(and the management don't provide pegs for noses)

further tales from a mad house

yesterday I was feeling very slightly better! a little more chipper! a little less sad! TGD was very pleased with my progress and confirmed no more ECT but a raise in the experimental drug that he prescribed this Saturday, which finally kicked in big-time on Sunday (too late for Saturday's latest death quest of major wrist slashing in the bath, which followed a "pep-talk" from one of the nursing staff and XCH visiting to confirm we will not ever be living together as a "family" again)(the latter circumstance TGD described as my "nuclear family fantasy", but which I had thought of as a normal desire for two good friends who still love each other and spend most weekends together and happen to be parents of the three same children and had hoped would be the result of time apart from each other, after 15 years of living together and 21 years of friendship) (ho hum) (ho hum regards my "hope" being a "fantasy") to drag me up from the depths and dregs of my current misery (which TGD says is illness) to a level reaching an almost bearable sadness
.
and then last night, a little like last Tuesday, when the fragility of my circumstances struck me, everything came crashing down again
.
a new admission (this place takes in depressives, like me, and also addicts and alcoholics) who was drunk beyond belief but still somehow able to stand, stared at me across the nurses' station as I waited for my evening cocktail. . . I didn't mean to look back, and certainly not catch her eye, but unfortunately I must have glanced in her general direction. . .
.
"look at me
once more
you CUNT

and I'll come over there
and SMASH YOUR
FUCKING FACE IN"
.
"charming"
would have been my more normal response, but I am not able to manage charm right now
.
I'm sorry to say, dear reader, that I burst into tears and started shaking uncontrollably and was unable to return to my room (which was right next door to the above mentioned good woman's) so spent the night in a pokey, but safe and well out of harm's way, cupboard
.
this morning I was too scared to go to the dining hall for breakfast (a bit of a shame as I had just started accumulating extra brownie points from TGD for doing sociable/normal things like going to the dining hall to eat, instead of cowering in my room and having food brought to me) so I thought I'd make some toast and a cuppa in the ward kitchenette, having made sure that the above mentioned good woman was nowhere in the vicinity. . .
.
. . .who should I bump into at the kettle, but FF; now he'd already given me a huge hug (one of those ones you guys describe as squeezing the breath out of one's lung's) yesterday, as he was upset for me for the reason for Saturday's A&E trip; this morning he made me toasted baguette and even buttered it! what a sweetie
.
I think he is well enough to leave soon, and I will miss him - he's the only "normal" person in here
The lunatic is on the grass.
The lunatic is on the grass.
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs.
.

Got to keep the loonies on the path.
The lunatic is in the hall.
The lunatics are in my hall.
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more.
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
.

And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
.

I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
.

The lunatic is in my head. The lunatic is in my head.
You raise the blade, you make the change
You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane. You lock the door

.

And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me.
.

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
.

And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
.

I can't think of anything to say except...
"I think it's marvelous!
HaHaHa!"

.

split screen camper vans

perhaps I should have added VW and you'd have all known what I was talking about. . .
.


I went on my best childhood holiday, with the Brown family from down the road, when I was twelve, in one. . . we toured North Eastern France

the Brown family comprised a father, a mother and three daughters, one my age one younger one older, but even with the roof up (as in the following image)
.


there wasn't enough room to sleep six (two sling beds each side of the main part of the van, in the roof space, a single across the front seats and a double at the back on the sofa), so we had to take it in turns to sleep in a little tent outside. . .

it was the most brilliant time; it was Mr Brown's birthday during the holiday and each of the Brown Girls had made him something which we devoured during the three weeks we were away: banana cake, fruit cake and some fudge. . .

Mrs Brown used to like taking us to see ancient French churches and hiring bicycles in small French country villages (or borrowing them, if there were none to hire) and making us cycle up steep hills in the midday sun to picnic at some peak with an incredible view. . .

she took us shoping in French markets and treated us to crepe, made in front of our eyes and covered in butter and sugar, or strawberry jam. . .

I could go on for hours, but I'm sleepy and groggy and think I might just tuck up with my memories and try and have a nice dream (had another nightmare last night) (it included eating watermelon covered in fragments of glass) (the new meds have a lot to answer for, but perhaps a nightmare is a small price to pay for a small degree of sanity?)

for years XCH and I discussed buying a VW camper van - he even joined the Splitty Club and we'd spend hours pouring over the magazine comparing the prices and conditions of the buses for sale while I dreampt of sewing seat covers and mathcing curtains, knitting rugs and making blankets and acquiring vintage kitchen paraphenalia for picnics on the beach. . .

pipe dreams, I believe, is the phrase

better than the nightmares I'm currently having tho, I guess

one for sorrow, two for joy

three for a girl, four for a boy


so what's five for? there are five magpies in the garden here, two pigeons and an assortment of blackbirds, robins other common or garden birds (but no geese) and a squirrel
.
the magpies gang up on the other wildlife and are quite a posse to be contended with. . . (if contention is your bag; it's not mine - I'm a peace-loving, easy-going, if-I-was-a-hippie-I'd-drive a Splittie-with-hand-knitted-cushions-and-home-made-curtains-softie at heart)

further adventures of a sad bunny

you don't really want to be reading this, I'm telling you, so please "switch off your *technology* and go and do something more interesting instead". . .

*insert word of your choice*

rather than the promised truth, I'll spare you the more gruesome details of my most recent 24 hours, but what I will tell you is that at one stage during the early morning I had a nightmare

I dreampt that a cup of (very decent, it has to be said, coffee) that XCH brought me when he popped in yesterday (without my POVSs) for all of a ten minute chat, had been spilt on the floor in my bedroom here in the hospital. . .

I was trying to mop it up, when it turned out instead to be water leaking in copius spurting quantities from the drain of the bathroom next door. . .

I was trying to mop that up, when that turned out to be water from a flume from one of those fancy swimming pools of which the youth of today (and some fully grown adults) are so fond. . .

I was washed down the flume, head under water, gasping for breath but swallowing gallons instead and choking on said gallons, clinging on to many and varied people who were rushing past me and apparently actually enjoying the experience on the way. . .

I recognised one of my old boyfriends amongst them - someone I haven't thought about for years, the guy who introduced me to the foul and disgusting habit of smoking, to which I am now addicted. . .

I was wearing my PJs, but everyone else was in very skimpy bikins or speedos. . .

I won't bore you with the rest, but needless to say I woke up in horrible sweat and very very distressed

despite that,
I wish you all a happy Sunday
and hope that your day is full of love,
people who love you,
some relaxation or an interesting persuit
and nothing too upsetting

the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the

truth (will follow shortly, I'm going to have some breakfast first and a sneaky fag, methinks - but in the meantime: Happy Saturday to you!) (yes. . .YOU!!)
Mama, take this badge off of me
I can't use it anymore.
It's gettin' dark,
too dark for me to see
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.
.
.
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
.

That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door
.
Rescue me
Oh take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charms
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too
Come on and rescue me

Come on baby and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
'Coz I need you, by my side
Can't you see that I'm lonely?

Rescue me
Come on and take my heart
Take your love and conquer every part
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too
Come on and rescue me
Come on and rescue me
Come on baby, take me baby,
Hold me baby, love me baby
Can't you see that I need you baby
Can't you see that I'm lonely
Rescue me
Come on and take my hand
Come on baby and be my man
Cuz I love you, cuz I want you
Can't you see that I'm lonely?

Take me baby
Love me baby
Need me baby
Can't you see that I'm lonely?

Rescue me, rescue me.......
.
ARETHA or FONTELLA
the choice is yours

and here is the news. . .

the "good" news:

here is a box, a musical box, with it's various secrets inside and you lovely lot wonderin' what's in it 'n' all, has almost reached 10,000 page loads. . .

(well, that's not necessarily "good", but it's all relative, eh) (my other blogs total 44,000 - dave's birthday blog being extremely popular with google searches for all sorts of things to do with John Travolta and John Wesley)(even tho I got the wrong Wesley brother, as dave pointed out on the day)

ILTV has almost reached 5,000 profile views (I'm astounded!)

(similarly, not necessarily good, but you know how much I love statistics, small things pleasing small minds etc etc)

the wonderful mig shared some love with me!
.

do help yourself!

erm, *scratches head*, hmmmmmmmmm, think that's it on the good news front

ho hum


the "not so good" news:

I'm back in hospital again, having more ECT and they are not letting me out

(noone reads blogs on a Friday night, especially in mid-summer, so I can winge on pathetically without fear of upsetting the readership)
.

There's a reason for the sun shiny sky
.

And there's a reason why I'm feelin' so high
Must be the season
When that love light shines all around us
So let that feelin' grab you deep inside
And send you reelin' where your love can't hide
And then go stealin'
Through the summer nights with your lover
.
.
Just let your love flow like a mountain stream

.

And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show
And you'll know what I mean, it's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on the wing
.
.
And let your love bind you to all living things
.

And let your love shine
And you'll know what I mean, that's the reason
There's a reason for the warm sweet nights
.

And there's a reason for the candle lights
.
.
Must be the season
When those love rites shine all around us
So let the wonder take you into space
.

And lay you under its loving embrace
.

Just feel the thunder as it warms your face
.

You can't hold back
Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
.
.
And let your love grow
With the smallest of dreams and let your love show
And you'll know what I mean, it's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on the wing
.
.

And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine
And you'll know what I mean, that's the reason
Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
.
.
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show
And you'll know what I mean, it's the season
Let your love fly like a bird on the wing
.

And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine
And you'll know what I mean, that's the reason

.
THE BELLAMY BROS

for mel, craig, shot, katherine and all my wonderful buddies over the pond

.
and for everyone else. . .
.
.
and anyone able to resist humming "celebrate good times, cummon" and then play a snatch of air-guitar whilst schreeching "yahoo!" you have better stamina than I do, but we probably knew that. . .

personally, I hate that tune (but then I am well known for being a miserable cow) (only you guys haven't cottoned onto that yet)

empty headed II

not a tune,
not a thought,
not-a-thing
nothing. . .
.
empty as a bucket. . .
a bucket? a pocket!
.
ah-ha. . .

no, not a boy-band from '80s Norway. . .

. . .I think I have diamonds on the soles of my shoes instead!
.
(a-wa) O kodwa u zo-nge li-sa namhlange
(a-wa a-wa) Si-bona kwenze ka kanjani
(a-wa a-wa) Amanto mbazane ayeza
She's a rich girl
She don't try to hide it,
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
He's a poor boy,
Empty as a pocket
Empty as a pocket with nothing to lose
Sing Ta na na Ta na na na
She got diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
Ta na na
Ta na na na
She got diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes,

(Pause)

People say she's crazy
She got diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
Well that's one way to lose these
Walking blues,
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes,
She was physically forgotten
but then she, slipped into my pocket
With my car keys,
She said you've taken me for granted
Because I please you
Wearing these dia-monds,
And I could say Oo oo oo,
As if everybody knows
What I'm talking about,
As if everybody here would know
Exactly what I was talking about,
Talking about diamonds on the soles of her shoes,

(Pause)

She makes the sign of a teaspoon
He makes the sign of a wave,
The poor boy changes clothes
And puts on after-shave,
To compensate for his ordinary shoes,
And she said honey take me dancing
But they ended up by sleeping
In a doorway,
By the bodegas and the lights on
Upper Broadway,
Wearing diamonds on the soles of their shoes,
And I could say
Oo oo oo
and if everybody here would know
What I was talking about
I mean everybody here would know exactly
What I was talking about
Talking about diamonds,

(Pause)

People say I'm crazy
I got diamonds on the soles of my shoes yeah,
Well that's one way to lose
These walking blues,
diamonds on the soles of my shoes,
ta na na na
ta na na na na
ta na na na
ta na na na na

(to finish)
so I'm back again, for the last few days. . .

one more zappy session on Tuesday and then I think they are going to let me go home on Wednesday

it's emptied my brain, I can tell you, this treatment - haven't had a tune for days, can't think of a thing to write - not like me at all

and the other weird thing is that it's mucked up my facial recognition software - I recognise everyone, everywhere: I'm walking down the street and everysingleperson who walks past me looks familiar

they aren't - I mean, I don't know them from Adam, but in my head they look familiar

gah!

and my memory's gone pear-shaped, my children think it's hysterical

I was told that all this will sort itself out after a few weeks, but in the meantime, it's very odd being me

an empty head, no music, no thoughts, but no strangers either
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

well this morning, or afternoon as it now is, I was extremely disorientated by my ECT sesh

which was a little weird, it has to be said

and I've just realised that on my Seekers post of yesterday I didn't link to Puff the Magic Dragon, as intended. . . %-)

altho I have done now! :-)

and at some stage I've bitten off two of my nails :-(

and I have a headache boo hoo

and for some reason, I am feeling very very sad - which is odd, because ECT is supposed to cheer you up! ho hum

I suppose a good tune for today would be "the only way is up", altho I don't know if I can bring myself to post such pop trash - but apart from that, my mind is a bit of a blank. . .

a spot of education, dear reader. . .


ElectroConvulsive Therapy

Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) is a form of treatment for certain severe psychiatric disorders that involves applying a mild electrical shock to each side of the skull. ECT is performed by a physician while the patient is monitored closely and kept pain-free.

What Is ECT?
ECT is a form of treatment for certain severe psychiatric disorders that involves using electrical shock. In ECT, a physician applies a mild electrical shock (20 to 30 milliamps) to each side of the patient's skull near the area of the temples. The procedure is done under anesthesia*, and the patient is monitored carefully. The shock is applied until the patient experiences a tonic-clonic seizure*. Normally, this would produce strong muscle contractions, causing the body to thrash about. However, the patient also is given a medication to relax the muscles, which prevents this kind of whole-body response. Instead, the seizure occurs just within the brain, where it lasts for a minute or so.

Who Benefits From ECT?
In the United States, about 100,000 people each year receive ECT. The types of mental disorders that are treated with ECT include schizophrenia, severe depression, mania, and delusional states. ECT is particularly effective as a short-term therapy for sudden, severe episodes of depression associated with suicidal tendencies. Because medications take several days or more to have an effect on severe depression, in some cases ECT is a way to provide immediate relief and protection from suicidal intent. About 60 to 70 percent of people who receive ECT experience some benefits. ECT is used with both children and adults.

Why Is ECT Controversial?
Despite its proven benefits, ECT is still somewhat controversial. The debate about its use today is based in part on the treatment's history.

Earliest Treatments
ECT was first tried in Italy in 1938. It soon was used to treat mental disorders that were resistant to other types of treatment. However, in the early days of ECT, few considerations were given to the patient's overall health. In addition, many people experienced pain from the shock itself or injuries from the whole-body seizures that resulted. Nevertheless, ECT was found to be an effective treatment for conditions such as severe depression, acute psychosis, and mania.

Modern Treatments
Modern improvements have made ECT a much safer and more comfortable experience for the patient. These improvements include the use of medications to produce a pain-free state and prevent violent muscle contractions. In 1999, the U.S. Surgeon General's report on mental health concluded that ECT was a safe and effective treatment for certain severe mental disorders when used according to current standards of care. Even so, the states of California, Texas, and Tennessee still prohibit the use of ECT with children and adolescents.

*anesthesia is a state in which a person is temporarily unable to feel pain while under the influence of a medication.

*tonic-clonic seizure is an episode in which a person usually loses consciousness, stiffens due to muscle contractions, and lets out a loud cry as air is forced through the vocal cords during the tonic phase. In the clonic phase, the muscles of the body contract and relax rhythmically, which causes the body to thrash about.

On the Horizon
Transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) is a new, painless treatment that uses magnetic pulses to stimulate brain activity. In some early studies, TMS appeared to work against depression. About one-third of the patients treated with TMS experienced temporary, mild headaches after the treatment, but there seemed to be no other side effects. If TMS is shown to be as effective as ECT, it may become another treatment option for severe depression in the future.

Media Portrayals
Some of the lingering debate about ECT is based on its portrayal in movies, television shows, and novels. In the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, for example, ECT was used as a punishment for unwanted behavior. Unfortunately, this kind of depiction often frightens people unnecessarily, keeping them from using a treatment that can be highly effective and even lifesaving.

Modern electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) is not like the shock treatments depicted in old movies. Patients receive medications to relax and sedate them before treatment begins, and many patients with depression find that ECT is a faster and more effective treatment than medication.

How Does ECT Work?
Scientists do not know for sure how ECT works, although research now is being done to find answers to this question. Most of the research is focused on ECT's effect on part of the brain called the hypothalamus*, which, among its many functions, regulates emotional expression and controls the endocrine glands. Changes in endocrine* function are often seen after ECT treatments.

What Happens During ECT Treatment?
ECT is performed in a hospital setting under the careful guidance of a physician. First the patient is given anesthesia and muscle-relaxing medications. Then the patient receives a mild electrical shock to each side of the skull. Thanks to the medications, the patient feels no pain, and the body does not convulse. Once the procedure is over, the patient awakens after 5 to 10 minutes, much as someone would after minor surgery. ECT generally is given in a series of 6 to 12 treatments over a period of a few weeks.

Many people experience some memory loss after ECT. Usually, this loss is temporary, affecting mainly memories of events from the days, weeks, or months just before or during the series of treatments. In most cases, the memories return within several weeks after the completion of ECT.

*the hypothalamus is part of the brain that controls (among other things) the autonomic nervous system*, the endocrine glands, basic drives such as hunger, thirst, and aggressive and sexual drives. The hypothalamus also regulates emotional expression.

*autonomic nervous system is a branch of the peripheral nervous system that controls various involuntary body activities, such as body temperature, metabolism, heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, and digestion. The autonomic nervous system has two parts—the sympathetic and parasympathetic branches.

*endocrine refers to a group of glands, such as the thyroid, adrenal, and pituitary glands, and the hormones they produce. The endocrine glands secrete their hormones into the bloodstream, and the hormones travel to the varous organs in the body that they affect. Certain hormones have effects on mood and sometimes are involved in symptoms such as irritability, emotional swings, fatigue, insomnia, depression, suspiciousness, and apathy.
.
(and please don't forget to help yourself
to a Crunchie on your way out!
it is Friday, after all. . .)
.
(or it will be, when you read this)
,
(or some popcorn, if your name is mel!)

The Treatment

well, according to one of the nurses, I'm "cheerier" than I was upon arrival. . .

(which, to be perfectly honest, wouldn't exactly be difficult, as I was somewhat miserable it has to be said)

she also told me that I was "less scary" than I had been. . .

ho hum

yours truly. . .
"scary"?
moi?
.
surely not!

quite possibly. . . but not anymore - a few volts or milliamps to the brain a couple of times a week and smiles all around, eh

smiles masking the bewildered looks of "I can't quite remember. . . " everytime someone asks you something that you would have known a couple of weeks previously, that is

that's probably a small price to pay for a sunny/ier disposition, tho, wouldn't you say?

apparently it will come back in time - my memory; whether it will be accompanied by scowls or whether the disposition will remain bright, I wonder. . .

l0sing one's memory is very strange, because you can't remember what you have forgotten! so you don't know what you've forgotten until it becomes pertinent to a conversation, interaction or discourse; it must be a little like premature senility. . . only you're very aware of the issue

and things seem less important all of a sudden - whether that's my memory or The Treatment, I don't know

and it doesn't seem to matter, either!

a change is as good as a rest

two things, dear reader:

thing one

last night I had a visit from XCH and Smallest Person; she was distraught - more than distraught

he was fairly upset too, it has to be said

just before leaving the house, she had trodden on a kitten and broken its neck and it spasmed all the way down the stairs and when it reached the bottom it threw up the contents of its guts all over the floor. . .

(I didn't ask how much blood spilled on the new stair carpet, or why XCH had left two teenage boys to "clean up" the mess on the stairs, as he was quite distraught as already mentioned)

a hot chocolate and some Maltesers managed to quell some of the flood of tears, but not all and not for long. . .

we had a conversation about why kittens come in litters of five (in this case) and she hadn't done it on purpose. . .

she still went home sobbing


thing two

a rather dishevelled man just came up to me in the garden and asked if he could have a fag, which I duly passed over

he then stood in front of me, with his hand in his pocket and uttered the following words:

"you're very beautiful"

"I'd like to m*ke l*ve to you"

"I'd like to f*ck you"

"I'd like to s*ck your n*pples"

"I'd like to c*me all over your f*ce"

the famous footballer, who was having a fag on a bench on the other side of the garden, whistled at me to catch my attention and twirled his fingers around near his forehead in a "he's mad" kind of way. . .

I think if Dishevelled Man hadn't chosen that moment to wander off and watch some ladies performing yoga on the lawn, Famous Footballer might have come over and whopped him one on my behalf