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.

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.

Chair Movement!

This is a post that I have wanted to write for a while.

I was recently chastised for having my hands in the wrong position when moving around. I would like to make it clear that it was by accident, but I do appreciate the note.

It seems like a strange thing. Why would it matter where you put your hands? Should it not be okay to have your hands anywhere as long as it is comfortable?

SURPRISE! It matters a lot. Or, it does if you want to keep your arms in use for a long time, anyway. Please, allow me to educate. I would like to add that this is all experience based, though I will be following up with people with a physio background to make sure that I don’t make egregious errors.

Imagine the wheel is the face of a clock. To propel yourself forward, your hands should be at 945-10. Why so far back? If you keep pushing from 11-1, you are not allowing the full motion of your arms to play out. You are forcing them to start part way through a natural motion and, therefore, will wear out your shoulder joint faster than if you start further back.

This is something that was mentioned to me early in my wheelchair experience, and I thought I was doing a fine job of it. However, I met with an occupational therapist the other day and she pointed out that I start my push too far forward.

Now, I was doing that in the apartment. It is hard to say that I do that when out and about, as it is easier to gain speed when pushing from further back. Having your hands closer to twelve makes it easier for small maneuvers and quick turns. This does not excuse where you have your hands. The possibility of muscle and join damage is present, anyway.

Advantages of having your hands at the right spot? As I mentioned before, speed. There is the vane advantage of improving pectoral muscles. This all does not ignore NOT NEEDING SHOULDER SURGERY!

Last happy update for a month! So, I will leave you with a warning. The next four updates are far from happy. I think the posts are important, but I realize the potential impact they can leave on a person. If you are one who has a hard time with dark ideas and depressing facts, I understand if you don’t check back in. Normal updates start back in June. If this warning has not scared you away, I hope you find the following four updates and funny as I do!

Please consider donating to my GoFundMe or Patreon.

My memory (and other rants)

I already forgot what this post is about.

GOODNIGHT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

I play. I only pseudo know what I want to talk about.

Well, here we are! Less than a month off until I start posting mildly depressing things every week! I cannot explain how excited I am. It sounds dower, morose, and mildly strange; I am well aware. I just look forward to it because I get to express things that I think about all-too-often.

In fact, they are horrible (the things I think about), but I forget them as often as I think of them. Just today, I awoke with a great couple of facts in my head to save for next year. As I am writing this, I cannot remember them for the life of me. It’s not that I can’t think of a depressing fact, or two. It’s more the concept that I had a great couple of things to jot down, and they are gone!

How gone are they?!

FUCKING GONE! I need to remember (ironically) to keep a record of this stuff. The one thing that I am fighting with is the idea that I haven’t marked them with a warning. Not that I explicitly talk about suicide or death in a direct fashion, but such things are implied. The last thing I want to to ruin someone.

The rest of the post is just me fighting with the concept, so if you don’t care, you can stop reading.

As stated last week, the purpose is to give someone tools to deal with when life falls apart. So, from that standpoint, I want everyone to read what I have to share. Another part of me does not want to cause depression or anguish. I would argue that a larger part of me wants everyone to find the collection hilarious. My wife does not agree IN THE SLIGHTEST with my perspective. She thinks that I just see the bleak in the world, and fail to explore the brighter moments. I argue that I appreciate the brighter moments BECAUSE I explore the dark.

To travel through life just looking at the pretty things and choosing to ignore the dark gives me the impression that, after a while of doing so, you do not respect how great everything is. Acknowledging the dark and brutal times, even revelling in them, makes the good feel so much better. The trick is, one cannot get entrenched or drowned by the heavier moments, no matter how suffocating life can be.

Maybe that’s why I listen to what I do. Everything is bleak, until you do a little reading and realize that these artist and singers are living a decent life. We tend to fetishize the best parts of life in modern media and ignore the trouble and tribulations that led up to that point. We all know how that person got as huge as they did, but we rarely show the part where their marriage implodes, they file for bankruptcy, go hungry for a while, then catch a lucky wave of success.

Now, with that said, we all watch the train-wreck that ensues. I’m sure that every single person who bothered to get to this point in the rant can name at least one example of what I mean. Whether it be a physical and tangible tragedy, or a metal break. It’s made all the worst because we don’t have context. We just see this idyllic person, “Hero” if you will, become human. They become, SHOCK FACE, one of us. That must be horrible for them!

Now, there are examples where the fall isn’t jarring. There are examples where we hold people on high for what they overcame and continue to fight against. Those tales are not as wildly known, it feels.

…but hey! What do I know? I am just a guy on his keyboard ranting and raving: hoping that someone hears.

HELP THIS BITCH KEEP GOING!

I have started a GoFundMe to raise the money to keep this site alive and to buy a new wheelchair. The Government of Canada is a fickle bitch when it comes to funding for assitive devises, Basically, you need to have a chair so dilapidated that it barely works any longer. After five years of moving and learning, I need to get a new chair. I now have a better idea of what I want. Please consider giving a dollar. Patreon is for mostly monthly upkeep for day to day life where the GoFundMe is going to be just for the chair and this site.