I did the worst thing a person in a bad mood can do. I read my hospital summary of the day I ended up in the hospital because of an overdose. First of all, doctors suck at descriptions. I was normal weight, I was awake but certainly not alert and what is oriented supposed to mean when used as an adjective this way? I’ll take pleasant though Haha. This summary was from the first hospital I went to that month. The other has more strict rules on who can view patient files. I don’t even want to imagine what they wrote but I digress.
Reading the way the doctor described my symptoms, my family problem, what was happening and what they were trying to do…brought it all back. It’s weird because reading his summary of me, I wanted to change it. There are several things wrong and apart from getting triggered because it was a bad experience, it triggers my anger to know that certain factors about that night are wrong. In their report, I experienced tenderness in my abdomen. Wrong. It’s rare for someone in my situation to not have pain or tenderness but I didn’t. Don’t even get me started on how two reports were filed of my stay and one says I admitted to being suicidal and the other one says I denied being suicidal or having had suicidal thoughts. The latter is what I said but towards the end of my stay they changed it, I can only imagine because I was getting worse so they might have believed the number I took could have been higher. Don’t know, don’t care. Wrong information shouldn’t be on a chart of a person whose liver is deteriorating significantly every hour. But again, I digress.
Perhaps what bothers me the most is what my brain does with the information provided. In the report they don’t mention how pale my skin was but my brain inserted that fact while I was reading. They used a fancy word for trembling due to my condition but my brain reminded me that I looked like I was convulsing. I had abnormal EKGs, but what my brain thought was that everything inside my was trying to keep me alive but failing. I remember. I don’t remember many things anymore. I don’t remember the daily stuff. If you asked me to tell you ten things I did yesterday, I probably couldn’t answer you. But I remember that. I remember looking up at my dad before the ambulance got there and he didn’t seem worried, just annoyed. I remember wanting to apologize to the EMTs for being there because I felt like they were wasting their time. I remember having to tell the nurse to tell my family not to come in and imagining them driving away thinking I hated them. I remember the nurses being so confused as to what reasons a 20 year old has for wanting to die and feeling so sorry that my life was ending. They kept mentioning my age as if that’s the only reason they were trying to keep me alive. I wanted to assure them that I had lived enough and that the fact that I’d only ended up here at 20 years of age was a test of my emotional endurance.
I remember and I don’t know what to about it.