Emergency Preparedness

   Quick - if you had a medical emergency, would your significant other know what to do? Do they know your conditions, symptoms and how to help you? Do they know your meds? Do they know how to pay the bills, buy the groceries, feed the kids while you are in the hospital? Do your closest friends, the people you hang out with all the time, know how to help in a time of crisis? If the answer to any of these is "No," then this is the post for you.

Planning Ahead

   A lot of families have plans in place for whole family emergencies - natural disasters, fires, etc. (If you don't, here's a great FEMA worksheet.) What I'm talking about here is an individual emergency, where one parent has to be away from home for awhile.  In order for things to run as smoothly as possible, you need to have a plan. The Bearded One and I learned this the hard way after two hospitalizations left him holding the proverbial bag, with no clue as to what to do. (He still made it work, I must add. He's a resourceful guy.)

Three critical steps to planning ahead are to:

• know yourself
• create a plan
• work as a team

Know Yourself

   Others can't begin to know how to help you if you don't know how to help yourself. This applies to all medical conditions- migraines, epilepsy, heart disease, etc- not just bipolar. You must know what your stressors, triggers and allergens are. You must know your early warning signs and symptoms that a crisis is looming. And you must know the things that you and others can do to help should the worst happen.

Create a Plan

   Once you figure all that out, it's time to form a crisis plan. There is a good planning worksheet here to help you lay everything out. It's setup for bipolars, but can easily be tailored to suit your unique situation. Another good checklist can be found here.

Remember to include the following in your plan:

• early warning signs and symptoms
• how to help you
• doctor's contact info
• current drug info, including herbals and over-the-counter meds (Mednotes is an easy to use tool for this)
• preferred pharmacy info
• preferred hospital info (if applicable)
• emergency contact info
• any other info you feel your support system should know in an emergency

   When you have your plan written up, be sure to give copies to each person in your support system and discuss it with them; this includes your doctor(s) and/or therapist. Keep your home copy in an easy to find place.

Work as a Team

   We've all been there; when one of you is gone, some things fall through the cracks because the other didn't know what to do. For example, I tend to not cook from a recipe. I just look at what I have and make something. This translates to The Bearded One and Punkin' Butt eating lots of frozen pizza and take-out while I'm in the hospital because he doesn't know what to do with all those raw ingredients

   The best way to solve this is to work as a team as often as you can while things are calm. If you do the cooking, let the other help you prep. TBO has started writing down the recipe as I cook. If your significant other always pays the bills, start sitting down together to go over the budget. If it helps, create a household how-to manual. I'm starting one for our family that includes a few easy recipes, phone numbers of friends who can help babysit, online passwords, dates bills are due, etc. The more you learn how to do what the other does, the more in control you'll feel should a crisis arise. Speaking of control...

Trust Each Other

   When it is you that is in crisis, you have to let go. Trust your partner to take care of things. The only way you are going to help yourself in a crisis is by letting others help you. If you've been working as a team and have an emergency plan in place, it's that much easier to focus on yourself. The first time I was hospitalized, I spent most of my time calling home to help TBO figure things out. What I should have been doing was trusting him and healing.

   Don't wait for an emergency to put all this in place. And it doesn't have to be a medical emergency; you never know when you might have to drop everything and leave town for awhile. So start today, this minute. I'm sure you already have some ideas; go ahead and jot them down before you forget. Talk to your partner tonight. Remember, the time to plan is when everything is calm, and emergencies don't give you fair warning.

Deja vu, Anyone? (Warning: Graphic/Triggers)

This Mommy's Mind...

...has been hospitalized twice. The second time it was on my terms - the hospital I chose, the mode of transport I chose (still a cop car. Hmm...) - but not much else changed, except the severity of the situation.

On the (wrong) Road Again

   It wasn't long after I was released from the hospital the first time that I started right back down the wrong road. Depression, mixed moods, ultra-rapid cycling and mega-witchiness. I just didn't get it. What was I doing wrong? I was going to therapy, I was taking my meds, I was doing it all. Why did I feel so crappy? Maybe it was time to change the meds.

Med-Go-Round

   So the good doc changed my meds. And changed them again. And again. I really can't remember how many times he took me off this, put me on that, tweaked something here and there. What I do remember is the side effects, which included:

• memory loss (again)
• loss of word recall (again)
• hair loss (again. Seeing a pattern?)
• ringing in the ears
• diarrhea (sorry, TMI)
• muscle weakness
• loss of coordination
• tardive dyskinesia(That was fun.)
• simple partial seizures (from withdrawal)

And to top it off, nothing was working. And I was only getting worse.

Out of Control

   Eight months. That's how long I pretended that I had control of it all. When in reality I was spinning out of control. I kept telling myself I could make it to the next doctor's appointment. Then we suddenly lost both of our vehicles. And my doctor was an hour away. I started canceling and rescheduling appointments, trying to just tough it out. But there's no toughing it out with bipolar out of control. There's only holding on for dear life.

Over the Edge, Again

   So hold on I did, until one night my fingers slipped and I went careening over the edge into the abyss. Roger and I had a fight, something I started over nothing. I was in the bathroom crying as I got ready for bed when I went to take my evening meds. And froze. I couldn't take them. I knew if I started I wouldn't stop until they were gone or I was dead. I sat there and cried until The Bearded One, who thought I had went to bed, found me. He held me and talked me down and got me to take my meds. I went to sleep. I should have went to the hospital  But still I waited. Another long six days, until I had a nervous breakdown in the CVS parking lot. TBO came home and had me in the ER in less than an hour.

Another Chance

   This time was different. It felt different; worse, yes, but more real as well. This time I knew I was fighting for my life. I remembered all the coping skills I had learned last time, but this time I took them to heart. I participated in group, I was honest with my doctor and I really took time for me, time to begin the healing process.

Finding Me

   Another seven day stay. Another new drug. Another reprieve. But this reprieve felt different, better, safer than the first time around. I could breathe. Life didn't get any easier, but living wasn't such an uphill battle. My head was clear, my thoughts easy, my emotions normal. I felt like I had a fighting chance. I had found the old me, the one that had been curled up in a corner, scared.

   That was three weeks ago now. I have a lot of work to do. I still have moments of deep despair, moments of high-flying thought and terrifying moments of blinding rage. But they are fewer and farther between. And I'm learning to cope, learning to pep myself up, bring myself down. Learning to accept that I'm not perfect, but I am enough. And that's good enough for me.

Mommy Goes Away

This Mommy's Mind...

...has been hospitalized twice now. The first time was involuntary.

From the Back of a Deputy's Car

   I have never been arrested. Never been in trouble with the law in any way. Yet here I sat in the backseat of a sheriff's deputy's car, handcuffed and humiliated. It's policy in my county for those who have been involuntarily committed to be transported this way, though no one explained that to me before they paraded me through the emergency room, cuffed and barefoot. "Police escort" is the pretty way they put it. Being lied to does not improve one's mood. All I kept thinking was how grateful I was that my daughter was not there to see me like that.

A Room with a (partial) View

   I arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night, alone and afraid. I was miles from home, in a strange place and with no control. Over anything. Over where I was, over how I was treated, over anything at home. That was the kick in the gut right there. When you are a homemaker, as I proudly name myself, you are the queen (or king. Hey, it's the 2010's.) of your castle. When you are locked away in a place with a view of the parking deck, all control is stripped from you. I worried sick over whether bills were being paid, if my family was being fed, if Punkin' Butt was miserable without me. Or worse, better without me? Would The Bearded One still want me after all this? Did I have a home to go back to?

A Ray of Sunshine

   Of course I did. My family didn't stop loving me just because I was sick. And it was abundantly clear when they finally got to visit me and PB came toddling up to me just as fast as she could, yelling "Mommy, mommy, mommy!" I was reminded of why I was there, why I had to give up control. I was there to heal, to help make my family whole again. I relished every second of that visit and I sobbed as the doors closed behind them as they left. It was as if all the sunshine had gone and with it a piece of me. I was more determined than ever to get well.

The Storm Passes

   As with all storms, the clouds broke up and the sky became clear again. My meds got straightened out, I learned ways to cope with the stress of life and made a few friends along the way. I even came out of the whole ordeal with a new therapist, and I call her that proudly, for she is wonderful at what she does. After seven days I was allowed to leave to continue my recovery at home. That night, as I sang to my sweet babe for the first time in ages and kissed her goodnight, I knew I was going to be ok.

   But as with every passing storm, it's not long till another one is on the horizon.