P is for Pain, Premeditation, PTSD

This is the medicines chart from my bundle. p2.jpg
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Previous letter from Chelsea & Westminster Hospital confirms that no tramadol was given in A&E.
The staff on the ward confirmed that the first Tramadol was at 14:23 on Friday 19th Feb 2016.

Tramadol is a controlled substance and has to be requested. The only request that exists was made by Mr Henry Magill on Fri 19th Feb 2016. The Prescriptions department have investigated this and confirmed.

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The reason that I know what happened was premeditated is very simple.

I received 2 doses of 1mg Oramorph. My first pain relief is charted at 4am and another dose at 8am, 18th Feb 2016 – almost 12 hours after I was wheeled into the A&E by the ambulance crew.

All the other pain relief is fake. Not just the Tramadol. For each fake dose, I received nothing. I was left in horrendous pain as this meant I was stuck lying in a hospital bed and unable to escape. Remember, my broken ribs were still deflating my lungs each time I tried to move – and yes, I was mooing!

This means that the records were falsified at the time. Premeditated.

Venlafaxine + Concussion + Tramadol = Serotonin Syndrome

Surely, the person who was set up to prescribe the actual Tramodol couldn’t have been involved. Henry, Henry, Henry, I have great faith in you not being involved. Really pissed off that you didn’t get me anti-seizure medication but I think I know why.

The first seizure occurred when you had sent me for the CT Head Scan. I was actually in the scanner. The pain from the first seizure can’t be described. I came out of the scanner unable to think. I thought I was brain dead. I was a drooling mess.
I think the CT scan must have shown a lot of damage happening. You panicked and this is why you went AWOL.

I was very lucky. I have a strange thing now, when I sleep, my head resets. Difficult to explain but I wake up with nothing in my head.
Freaked the hell out of me to begin with but now I love it. I wake to complete mindfulness. It’s a lovely way to start my day.
There are a couple of other things but my biggest problem ATM is the PTSD.

I KNEW I WAS GOING TO DIE AND I COULDN’T FIGHT OR FLEE.

Wow, have I been whamed by PTSD.

It’s underlying all of the time and I can’t have conversations as I can’t take in what people are saying.
When it gets really bad I can’t read or write. You have no concentration. I come out of the shower with shampoo in my hair and one shaved leg. I can’t remember to collect my cash from a machine if a balance flashes up. Even the smallest distraction breaks your thought patterns. PTSD means I am allowed my money as pocket money. I get £10.00 a day and I have to show the receipt if want more. (Have several receipts in reserve for when I lose my money – I flash them quickly so the date can’t be seen!)
Oh yeah, roads and cars are a bit dodgy. I have to make sure that I only cross on crossings. I look one way but the act of looking the other way means I forget what was that way and replace it with this way – I know what I mean.

Oh and I’m a PTSD pain in the butt. I will argue that I haven’t done something or haven’t agreed to something because I can’t remember. I really am not being rude and I’m so sorry.

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