One of the reasons that the people at UCH let me go on Saturday morning was that I had a long-standing appointment with a psychiatrist in Islington today. She was good, but seemed to be a little surprised that I only saw a psychiatric nurse and had no contact with a crisis team.
So, within two hours of being at work I had messages from the local crisis team and my GP arranging appointments. I guess it's a good thing but it looks like I'll be spending tomorrow with the crisis team and Thursday with my GP and I don't actually know how I'll square it with work...
Monday 29 March 2010
Saturday 27 March 2010
A&E, AAU, DSH and other acronyms
So, last night I had a bit of a crisis. At about 9, I started taking paracetamol tablets. My housemate came home at about 9.15, so I couldn't carry on. I began to get scared, so I stuttered out what had happened and ended up going to our local hospital's A&E unit (Accident and Emergency; ER if you're American). I was seen by a triage nurse at 10:15pm, about 15 minutes after arriving. Triage didn't take long, and the nurse was actually lovely. She went through my medications, was pleased that I'd brought the boxes of paracetamol products I'd been taking, recorded doses, looked at my most recent cuts, etc. Exactly what I would have expected, and really quick. It was really reassuring that she wasn't difficult or judgemental, that would have hurt too much.
After about 3 hours of sitting in a very bright corridor, at about 1:30am (i.e. early this morning), a psych nurse came to speak to me. She asked me all the usual questions; what did I take? how much? how did I feel now? was I upset that I was interrupted, or relieved?, &c. I'll admit that I was less than honest about my motivations; I thought that if I said, "I sat down and calculated what out to be a dangerous dosage and had taken 75% of what I intended; I wasn't annoyed at being interrupted, just startled back to reality," that might well get me a one-way ticket to the psychiatric ward. Besides which, she didn't tell me who she was until we'd gone into the consulting room, so my housemate was in the room.
After all the blood tests, at about 2am, I got taken (by The Most Patronising Nurse in the World, and in a wheelchair of all things) to the AAU (Acute Admissions Unit? not sure), where I proceeded to lie awake until 6am, being occasionally prodded by doctors and asked to repeat until I felt 2 inches high.
I was eventually, after breakfast, allowed to leave. It took a few hours to get my discharge papers and I've just got home.
After about 3 hours of sitting in a very bright corridor, at about 1:30am (i.e. early this morning), a psych nurse came to speak to me. She asked me all the usual questions; what did I take? how much? how did I feel now? was I upset that I was interrupted, or relieved?, &c. I'll admit that I was less than honest about my motivations; I thought that if I said, "I sat down and calculated what out to be a dangerous dosage and had taken 75% of what I intended; I wasn't annoyed at being interrupted, just startled back to reality," that might well get me a one-way ticket to the psychiatric ward. Besides which, she didn't tell me who she was until we'd gone into the consulting room, so my housemate was in the room.
After all the blood tests, at about 2am, I got taken (by The Most Patronising Nurse in the World, and in a wheelchair of all things) to the AAU (Acute Admissions Unit? not sure), where I proceeded to lie awake until 6am, being occasionally prodded by doctors and asked to repeat until I felt 2 inches high.
I was eventually, after breakfast, allowed to leave. It took a few hours to get my discharge papers and I've just got home.
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