The Effects of Long-Term Hospital Stays

*THIS IS ALL FIRST HAND. I DON’T HAVE REFERENCES*

Now that I have the disclaimer out of the way, I am going to warn about long-term hospital stays and the effect on the mental wellbeing of the person in question.

Someone who is in hospital for any amount of time may be misdiagnosed as having depression or, in my case, brain damage. The patient can seem distant, gullible, despondent, or just all around wrong. The symptoms can include (but are not limited to) an unbalanced appetite, uncontrollable sadness, anger, sadness, and unwarranted outbursts.

To be blunt, this is not the fault of the individual OR the hospital. That person is used to life being one way, then (in some cases) literally have their independence ripped away from them. They might be used to keeping to themselves, then they have to socialize with specialists, nurses, and other patients. They might have their own regiment, now they have their day dictated to the minuet.

How does one treat them? With delicate understanding and a firm stance. You cannot bully them back to being “themselves”. You have to let them accept what’s going on around them in the hospital, and help them create new neural pathways to accept their surroundings.

Be careful when introducing new meds. Be sure everything in place is necessary. Do NOT be afraid to say that time is all they need. Last thing someone needs in time of emergency is to be on several anti-depressants when they don’t need it.

Please, if you have additional insight or know of better guidlines in how to cope with institutional stays, leave them in the comments. I am sure other people need them, and I would love some additional reading.guidelinesPlease, if you have additional insight or know of better guidlines in how to cope with institutional stays, leave them in the comments. I am sure other people need them, and I would love some additional reading.

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This isn’t fair…

I cannot talk about what’s been going on for the last couple of weeks. All I can say is that I am in incredible pain, but in a good way. That sounds mad, I am well aware, but I’m thoroughly enjoying… X… Let’s call it “X”

I have been writing a journal in relation to X. The way X was pitched to me makes it sound fantastic and I am very excited to see what happens in two months. two weeks. two hours. Fuck me, I am in a lot of pain.

Anyway, I am trying so hard to keep this vague and I cannot help but feel I am failing. I am going to stop rambling in relation to X so I do not ruin.

Jeremy {ANEWSIN VOL. 9 — Jason Garden}

//Edited by Luka Riot

Jeremy rolls over in bed, legs and arms sore. His head still misty from his day prior. The sun has started rolling its beams of light through the window. His blinds do little against the cascade of morning light.

His dog, Tidus, barks and whimpers at the foot of the bed. Tidus is making it very clear that he wants to go outside, and requires someone with thumbs to make that a reality. Jeremy, however, refuses to donate his thumbs. This is a day that he wants little to do with.

The night before had been busy. Jeremy was in charge of making sure that business went well in his department. His department, in this instance, was being a decoy. The plots were not nefarious, or he did not think so. He was to distract onlookers, security, and anyone else who would otherwise tamper with what the event planner was concocting in the background. Usually, it was just harmless tagging or some superficial defacing of a government monument.

Last night was different.

The original plan, from what Jeremy was told, was to simply tag a wall. Victimless crime, more or less. The wall in question was erected to celebrate the corporation coming to power over the citizens in the area. The actual takeover was quiet, and the corporation did little to be considered corrupt. Their intentions actually seemed to be for the greater good, and most people were happy.

Keyword: most.

The economy was swapped from a monetary focus to that of a point-based system. If you had x-amount of points, you were just given things to keep your life at a certain comfort. You could work your way up to a higher echelon, but it was very easy to falter. To make it less fair, faltering could be against your will.

Disability, mental health, and region swapping. These were just three ways that things could turn in a heart beat. If you were walking down the street, and were stricken down by something resulting in a broken back, you would go onto some sort of recovery program set up by the state. If you were high in the ranks of society, you could expect a shift in your day-to-day, but that is about it. If, God forbid, you were in the lower tier, you could assume that everything you knew or held dear would come crashing down around you. Not only would you lose everything that made you feel human, but you would actually be forced to depend on things that are in place to hinder progression.

So, what was Jeremy doing? He was working with a group that wanted to raise awareness of the practice of this corporation. He was to run interference with the forces that would stop any sort of progress the rest of the group would be making with the wall. He was told that they were just spray painting and generally defacing the exterior which points towards the masses. He was to ride his wheelchair up and down the street, asking for help opening doors and crossing roads. The kinds of things that people assumed that people needed when they were as broken as he appeared to be.

His evening was going well, until he heard the blasts.

Two explosions rang out over the otherwise calm night. Jeremy was not harmed by debris flying through the air, nor by any glass erupting from storefronts. It was the cascade of panicked humans who forgot any compassion and pushed him out of the way. He hit the ground, his chair one full metre from his body. It had fallen onto the side, which made it cumbersome to right. All of this would have been a non-issue if it happened in the safety of Jeremy’s house; streets being pounded by hundreds of people is hard to prepare for.

No one offered to help him. It took the better part of an hour to right himself, and that was after many failed attempts.

That was a brief overview of what Jeremy had to deal with last night. Today was a new day, but that fact does not mend his sore muscles. Mend his joints from the forces they were not used to. Mend his already fragile ego from feeling dejected and used.

Tidus barks, and pulls Jeremy out of the fog his mind was in. Jeremy needed to let the dog out. In that moment he figured that keeping his head to one plan at a time was better than circling a drain of remembrance and rerouting. What was done is done, and no matter his roll, he could not change a thing.

Jeremy transferred into his wheelchair and rolled towards the patio door, all the while making sure that Tidus is behind him. He opened the door for the dog, who thanks him with a playful snort in his direction. Closing the door, Jeremy lazily rolled towards the kitchen. Coffee is the only thing that he craves. He places the cup under a filter and drains water through the beans. The whole process takes about five minuets, in which time Tidus makes it clear that he is ready to come inside.

He places the mug full of the hot coffee between his knees and rolls over to open the door. As expected, he is greeted by the big, slobbering face of his best friend. Less expected was the bullet travelling right over the head of Tidus and between the eyes of Jeremy. It appears that he was marked – that he was made the scape-goat for the entire operation.

The coffee cup crashes to the concrete and brown liquid graces his spokes. Tidus gets upset and ducks his head down as he scampered away.

Dare to be Morbid

I hit on this topic a month ago or so, but it came to light recently by a friend. He pointed out that I need a “Positive attitude.” I agreed, and acknowledged that I can be a bit morose, but I use my bleak outlook as comic alleviation. They immediately started pointing out how that is wrong. I am not denying that having a positive outlook is admirable, but being ostracized for being dark is extreme.

To look at the darker things in life can be shallow, but what does that say about life? If it is easier to point out and wallow in everything bleak and horrible, we have to look at our current climate and question the direction of society as a whole.

Where I deviate is that I point out the dark to accentuate the positive. I will help 10 old women across the road, then explain how patronizing and ridiculous it is that doing so makes me a good person. I am not doing it to minimize my actions, or to ridicule those who do not take them. I am simply examining what is going on and finding some sort of silver lining.

This world is scary. Life is horrible. We are all going to die. Now spin that! The world is scary, but it is scary because we do not look at what is possible. Did you know that your liver can reconstruct itself when just a quarter of its original size? That is fucking cool!

Life hurts. Heart ache, death, abandonment… So many things to fear and hate. It can also bring so much joy it can be overwhelming. Just look into the disabled community for stories that very much define how life can be amazing. Look at child birth to literally see a life that didn’t exist, exist! What the holy aweifoweifawefasfaweio — that’s so cool!

Yes, we are all going to die. That is a fact of, well, life. So, if that is such a fact, why ignore any part of what’s around you? Amazing things are only amazing in contrast to the less-than amazing. The time you don’t think that you made it across the street without getting hit will be the time you get hit. If you just celebrate the good all of the time, it will feel less good. If your zero is awesome, how could much be better? I’m done with metaphors to explain this. You need to look and laugh at the bad. It is a part of life – I would argue the most important part. It gives highs and lows definition.

Cripple Proud

I am a self-proclaimed cripple. There is a lot of discussion whether that is okay or not. I am going to give my 2-cents on that term, and you can feel free to challenge me to a foot race if you disagree with me.

To begin, I do understand the discomfort people have around the word. It is like any derogatory noun, but it just makes people feel dirty saying it as opposed to inciting violence.

The term should be used properly, and be (at the very least) mildly respected. By all definitions, I am a cripple. I cannot walk and I suffer from cranial damage. For me to call me a cripple, it is more in jest than self deprecation. If someone were to describe me as “crippled” I would take it the same as proclaiming that I wear glasses. In that case, it is no more offensive as someone using the colour of my shirt to pick me out of a crowd.

The more taboo phrasing is derogatory. To describe someone using that statement as part of an identifier is one thing. To define someone as a cripple is rather dangerous. Me, for instance, would find it mostly funny. If the topic was about going for a race and someone said something to the extent of “you have the cripple.” I would laugh, probably too hard. If someone came into a room and say “fuck, who let the cripple in?” joking, I would laugh. Really hard, depending on who it was. If someone bumped into me and said “fucking cripple” I would have to restrain myself not to hit something. The first two examples are saying cripple as either a mocking-identifyer or as a statement. The other is out of unnecessary frustration.

Now, I admit, the examples are poor. Anyone knocked by someone who then curses them out would be frustrated. I use that example more to illustrate using the term in passing as an insult. When you say the word to hurt someone, it is wrong, or “dirty.” If someone walks up to you and says “you woman” regardless of your sex, or gender, you would take it as an attack. That does not mean the word woman is bad in anyway.

Anyway, that is my take on calling someone a cripple. I am proud to be part of this community. The collection of differently abled people around are, for the most part, caring and loving. Of course, like every community, there are some bad eggs. My statement to them is that they should not be a bad egg.

Sidenote, if you want to make a pizza delivery person awkward, put ‘crippleparty’ in the comment section for an online delivery. Then, you have to have an obviously crippled party collect the pizza. The delivery person, if they read the comment, will be mortified and not say ANYTHING about it. It’s so good.

Patreon

It’s my anniversary today! I love you, Tash. Always will.

I try not to do posts like this too often, but I have to!

I do not have huge monthly expenses, but I have enough that life is a pain-in-the-ass at times. Cellphone alone costs just shy of 200$ a month, and that is ignoring medication, gas, car, utilities, etc. etc…

I am not asking one person to help me out exclusively, but just $1 a month from each follower on WordPress gives me another $100 on top of what is already being made.

I am beyond excited to be over $90. Tickled, even, and I feel I do not thank them enough. It definitely helped in renewing the subscription to the site, as well as the URL. That was a huge help in getting those mundane tasks complete.

Please, donate what you can. I try to keep on top of bonuses. I understand if I do not get anything from this plea. Please consider it!

#vss365

For starters, thanks for waiting. Between moving and changing auto-payments, I would have nothing to update about. Things are calming down a bit now, so: here I am!

I have been doing this thing every day over on my Twitter. It’s fun and challenging. I tend to use the prompts for morbid rambling which actually find an audience.

(An audience is something I rarely have.)

I am writing this after only completing four, but I will share all of what I have done at the end of the year.

Why the wait? I am lazy. I am too busy to figure out a way to display them right now. I am moving. Pick an excuse, I promise that it’s right.

If you have a Twitter, you should follow me. I know that I have the widget thingy somewhere on this site, but I have not directed eyes that way. I don’t spam updates. It only gets updated (automatically) when I post something, and otherwise it’s when I think of something really witty and no one is around to hear.

Now, the update schedule includes these vss365 posts.

I need reasons to update my Twitter more. Using it as a play-by-play for my day sounds boring. Most updates would be “sitting in a wheelchair #relatable” or something like that. I treat my social media with a similar discretion that I do this site. I tend to only update with things that I think are “important” for people to read. On my FaceBook, I do post more about politics and religion with no assumption that anyone will take my opinion to heart. I also post a lot about the music I am currently digesting because that is something I, personally, find very important.

Speaking of which, do you remember Touché Amoré? I just gave their album “Parting the Sea Between Brightness and Me” another spin and I remember why I love this art. The most powerful lyrics I have heard in a very long time that any touring musician can relate to. Give it a listen, and bask in the bleak (yet strangely beautiful) portrait they paint.

[Something cool happened yesterday. More later]

~MOVED

As some of you may have read, I moved back to Cambridge, ON today. I am NOT excited for the move, but not for the reasons that some may have anticipated.

First, I am EXCITED to have all of my friends near by. I have missed you, and I am finally within a decent distance to most of you. In fact, I think there are only two that I am farther from, and only one that will actually feel the sting of my moving.

So, why am I not excited? I am 30, married, and had to move in with my parents to keep existing. I love my family, I really do, but it is embarassing to go almost three years on your own then throw in the towel because life “got too hard.”

ANYWHO, I am going to need the week to organize myself. I have a post going live on Sunday only because I wrote it a little while ago.

heh.. So much for taking the month off. I think I posted more that I have in months prior.

Classic Album Review :: Placebo — Without You I’m Nothing

You know that song you heard somewhere and you really liked it but have no clue who it’s by and the internet is such that you cannot look it up and everything is horrible because you need to find that song? Yeah — that was me about 15 years ago.

The song that I could never find was Pure Morning. It is the first track on this not-punk album. Finding that out and purchasing the album brought me down a rabbit hole where I could never find the surface, but I also never wanted to find a surface. With deceptivly simple everything, this album is amazing.

Pure Morning has lyrics similar to a child’s rhyme. Of course, if you heard your child singing these words, you would be far from ecstatic at their choice of vernacular. The entire song appears to be about discovering ones sexuality while also discovering drugs. The title “Pure Morning” reflects the relief of discovering everything the night before. The act of reflecting on your actions and adoring every decision you made.

What did I mean by disceptivly simple? Look no further than track two. The guitar tuning is warped, the bass is full of exact slides that feel improvised but are very concise, and the drums are fast and loose. The vocalist confused me when I was younger. I couldn’t figure out their gender, neither by listening or by looking. That started my journey into the world of learning what exactly what gender is. Immediately, I learned that gender is a created term, and learned a lot of things about the existence of the LGBTQ+ world. Not that the band had lyrics that made me question everything, but the very existing of such people bending social norms in the ’90s intrigued me.deceptivelyWhat did I mean by disceptivly simple? Look no further than track two. The guitar tuning is warped, the bass is full of exact slides that feel improvised but are very concise, and the drums are fast and loose. The vocalist confused me when I was younger. I couldn’t figure out their gender, neither by listening or by looking. That started my journey into the world of learning what exactly what gender is. Immediately, I learned that gender is a created term, and learned a lot of things about the existence of the LGBTQ+ world. Not that the band had lyrics that made me question everything, but the very existing of such people bending social norms in the ’90s intrigued me.

Anyway, off the political stuff. That continues to be a sore topic for a large number of people, and delving down that rabbit hole will take me horribly off-topic from this fantastic album.

How would I describe the sound? Think Pixies meets Pink Floyd with a dance of The Clash. How? Pixies because they buck pop norms while also being pop. Pink Floyd because of the use of effects to not only add to a sound, but actually create a sound. The Clash because… well… there really is no reason. It was a proclamation that I made without putting too much thought into it. At the same time, it kind of fits because someone would have a difficult time making me ignore the obvious punk influence in the music. Yes, they are also a pop band. Maybe saying The Clash is too much of a departure, but leaving the punk aspect to just The Pixies feels like it ignores a whole facet of influence.

ANYWAY. I could go on circles all day speaking of influence, but there is no denying that the title track (Without You, I’m Nothing, track five) is a very Pink Floyd reminiscent track. On the next release (Black Market Music), David Bowie does a duet with the singer. As much as this is, by far, my favourite track on this album, that version of the song is perfect. In acknowledging that, it DOES NOT take from this version at all. It still contains one of the best soul crushing buildups in music that I have ever found. They literally go from minimal instrumentation to ALL the instrumentation in a matter of a few bars. To add to the finesse, it beautifully flows into the next track.

Fuck me, I could go on and on about this album, but most of it would just be repeating what I already talked about, OR it would just devolve into incohearent rambles that drone on and on for much longer than I would like them to. I mean, I have speant this long and I only bought up two songs, one of which I did no description for except saying that it is amazing. So, I will sign off on this review with a song that I didn’t talk about, but is equally amazing.