Jay, La Cheim, Mood, Meds, AC Transit
After two weeks in the ICU (and now a bit of time in the Slightly-Less-Intensive Care Unit), my friend Jay is continuing to slowly improve after his accident. After numerous surgeries, he's beginning to get his pain management under control well enough to be transferred to an inpatient rehab facility. I hope this means I'll get to visit him soon, as I haven't seen him since first hearing the distressing news back on September 15. His wife (Lois) has been amazing, sending out email newsletter updates almost every day to the many people who are concerned, keeping us all apprised of his progress. I hope transfer to the rehab facility will mean things get easier for both of them.
If nothing else, the docs seem to be done sticking pieces of metal (be they knives, drills, plates, or rods) into Jay, and that's something to be glad of. Jay is FAMILY to me, and I don't like bad things happening to my family. That is simply NOT okay with me. This whole time, ever since I first heard, I have thought of Jay several times a day every day, probably rarely going 2 waking hours without wondering where he is and how he's feeling and what they're doing to him ... and I look forward to being able to at least hold his uninjured fingers (below the broken wrists) and give them a good squeeze while solemnly declaring that electronic skateboards are Satan's work.
Also Satan's work, though probably unrelated: the AC Transit #18 bus line. I was taking the bus from La Cheim to therapy today when two grown men got into an altercation and both pulled out knives. Of course, given my luck, one guy was sitting directly behind me and the other was directly across the aisle from me, so I was basically stuck right in the middle of the whole thing, and I was terrified as hell. Both guys did a lot of very abusive yelling, a lot of threatening, a lot of swearing, a lot of smack-talking, and a lot of knife-waving ... but in the end nobody got stabbed, so I call it a win. The reason I say that the AC Transit #18 bus line is Satan's work is because this is the same fucking bus line I was on when a blind passenger was assaulted by a fellow passenger who then directly threatened me before deciding to instead chase the blind guy down the street, continuing to attack him. Unfortunately, the #18 goes many places I need to go. This keeps happening, though, and I'm going to develop #18-o-phobia!
I'm still hypomanic, though the new med (Depakote) seems to be helping. We had to lower the dosage because I got hit with a triple-whammy of sedation, increased appetite (especially for protein), and nausea. On the reduced dosage, my thoughts are racing again, but not as badly as before the Depakote, so we're going to continue giving it a try. It can take a while for side effects (e.g., the nausea) to diseappear, and it can also take a while for the full effectiveness of a dose to kick in ... the combination of which means we're going to stick with the current dosage (750 mg/day) for a while and see what happens. In the meantime, I'm always a little too tired, a little too hungry, and a little nauseated.
La Cheim is great, but is tiring as hell. I'm now in the Intensive Outpatient Program, which means I'm only at La Cheim on Tuesdays-Thursdays, and I'm back at CWC on Mondays and Fridays. Maybe I'll write a friends-locked entry about some more personal stuff re: La Cheim, but right now I'm just wanting to go to bed. Sooooo tiiiiirrrreeed.
Last bedtime thought: I wonder how Jay is doing right this moment. I hope he's sleeping soundly and letting sleep help heal all the stuff that needs healing. And I hope Lois is getting whatever rest and support she needs, too. I hope they're both as comfortable and happy as possible, given the circumstances. My last waking thoughts go out to them.
If nothing else, the docs seem to be done sticking pieces of metal (be they knives, drills, plates, or rods) into Jay, and that's something to be glad of. Jay is FAMILY to me, and I don't like bad things happening to my family. That is simply NOT okay with me. This whole time, ever since I first heard, I have thought of Jay several times a day every day, probably rarely going 2 waking hours without wondering where he is and how he's feeling and what they're doing to him ... and I look forward to being able to at least hold his uninjured fingers (below the broken wrists) and give them a good squeeze while solemnly declaring that electronic skateboards are Satan's work.
Also Satan's work, though probably unrelated: the AC Transit #18 bus line. I was taking the bus from La Cheim to therapy today when two grown men got into an altercation and both pulled out knives. Of course, given my luck, one guy was sitting directly behind me and the other was directly across the aisle from me, so I was basically stuck right in the middle of the whole thing, and I was terrified as hell. Both guys did a lot of very abusive yelling, a lot of threatening, a lot of swearing, a lot of smack-talking, and a lot of knife-waving ... but in the end nobody got stabbed, so I call it a win. The reason I say that the AC Transit #18 bus line is Satan's work is because this is the same fucking bus line I was on when a blind passenger was assaulted by a fellow passenger who then directly threatened me before deciding to instead chase the blind guy down the street, continuing to attack him. Unfortunately, the #18 goes many places I need to go. This keeps happening, though, and I'm going to develop #18-o-phobia!
I'm still hypomanic, though the new med (Depakote) seems to be helping. We had to lower the dosage because I got hit with a triple-whammy of sedation, increased appetite (especially for protein), and nausea. On the reduced dosage, my thoughts are racing again, but not as badly as before the Depakote, so we're going to continue giving it a try. It can take a while for side effects (e.g., the nausea) to diseappear, and it can also take a while for the full effectiveness of a dose to kick in ... the combination of which means we're going to stick with the current dosage (750 mg/day) for a while and see what happens. In the meantime, I'm always a little too tired, a little too hungry, and a little nauseated.
La Cheim is great, but is tiring as hell. I'm now in the Intensive Outpatient Program, which means I'm only at La Cheim on Tuesdays-Thursdays, and I'm back at CWC on Mondays and Fridays. Maybe I'll write a friends-locked entry about some more personal stuff re: La Cheim, but right now I'm just wanting to go to bed. Sooooo tiiiiirrrreeed.
Last bedtime thought: I wonder how Jay is doing right this moment. I hope he's sleeping soundly and letting sleep help heal all the stuff that needs healing. And I hope Lois is getting whatever rest and support she needs, too. I hope they're both as comfortable and happy as possible, given the circumstances. My last waking thoughts go out to them.