V for vulnerable

but not a victim.

I suppose that the next step is to take Chelsea & Westminster Hospital to the Parliamentary Health Ombudsman. Will that achieve what I want?

I want Chelsea & Westminster to admit everything that happened to me.
I want huge changes in how they treat people with mental health conditions.
I want the people who kept me in pain, and tried to limit my life span, tried before a jury.

My abuse in the A&E department at Chelsea & Westminster hospital was orchestrated. The fact they could leave someone in isolation for so long and it not be questioned. Ignoring someone who was begging for pain relief.
The fact that the administrator had the authority to deny my consultant head and arm CT scans. (She knew that they wouldn’t have been able to get me into the scanner and I assume this would have led to another department finding out I hadn’t had pain relief.)

Why not the press? Perhaps but I wouldn’t want to work in a place where this became public knowledge. There are lots of good people working for this hospital. I didn’t see them as they have no training with mental health and didn’t know what to do. What these staff were being told was not the situation and they didn’t have the experience/training to question what they were being presented with.

I will never be a victim because of what happened to me, and if I get my way, nor will anyone else.

U is for Unipolar

The strange thing with depression is that once I accepted I was a depressive, life became so much easier. I go through trauma and I get depressed.

When I was younger I thought it would be so much easier if I was bipolar. At least that way the lows would have been offset.

I can predict when my depression is going to hit as I get a couple of weeks after a traumatic event where I lose everything and 90% of it turns up in the fridge. The fridge becomes a Pandora’s box of wonders. Paint brushes, keys, hats, the odd book – all turn up in the fridge.

I automatically analyse the crap out of everything and I reckon my fridge becomes the Mecca of my belongings as I also lose my appetite at this time. I think it is because I am conscious of not being hungry so keep going to the fridge to try and eat. I must take food out and just leave what I am holding in the fridge.

Unlike the swift mood swings associated with bipolar disorder, I have a couple of weeks where I put together my strategy for how to get through the black clouds to come.

I do this with structure. I am incredibly gentle on myself but don’t allow myself to wallow in self pity. This is my life. This is who I am, so get over myself.
The routine helps enormously as if I have had a really bad day, I can focus on the fact I’ve stuck to my plan and achieved 3 things each day. That way I know that a bad day is just a bad day. I am not going back to the depths of hell.

For anyone reading this who has depression.

Get structure in your life, your head is your own worst enemy.
Be gentle but realise you are not a pathetic useless creature.
And, lower your expectations of yourself. You can always raise them again later!

And my own top tip.

Accept your depression. Whether it is a fleeting moment or a life time embrace. If someone is judging me on my mental health without getting to know me, I don’t want them in my life.

T is for Thomas

This is the hardest thing to write because even by putting the truth down, I feel like I am letting him down.

Dr Paul Thomas was the UCC out of hours doctor who took away the Tramadol and saved my life.

He was amazing as he knew straight away that the Tramadol was causing the seizures. He took all Tramadol away and asked for the discharge sheet.

When I was able to stand, I gave him the discharge sheet and he took it. Read it. Got up and walked out. Wow, I thought, he really cares.

So, it came as a shock to find that Dr Thomas wrote the following:
t1.jpg
t2.jpg

By removing the discharge sheet, it allowed Chelsea and Westminster Hospital to pretend, for a year, that I had been discharged at 10:40 in the morning. This would have been before the first dose of Tramadol had been given at 2:23pm, and, of course, before the first seizure had occurred in the CT scanner.

It was only when I managed to get the prescribed medicines copy of the discharge sheet that the hospital’s story changed and they agreed that I was discharged in the evening of the 19th Feb 2016.

So, to recap. I have been diagnosed as bipolar by an orthopedic consultant Mr Henry Magill 19th Feb 2016, and two days later, the convulsive seizures where my body was so swollen, is a relapse of my bipolar disorder.

I will never back any complaint made against Professor Paul Thomas. He is the man who saved my life.

He chose to falsify what happened but would he have been so eager to cover up for a friend if he had known that the Tramadol – which the hospital have confirmed caused the seizures – had been doubled for my departure?
I hope not.