Not Quite Myself Yet

 

Unlike other forms of psychological disorders, the core issue in trauma is reality.
― Bessel A. van der Kolk

Triggers are like little psychic explosions that crash through avoidance and bring the dissociated, avoided trauma suddenly, unexpectedly, back into consciousness.
― Carolyn Spring

Trigger warning. Health and hospital related PTSD

Hey, Lovelies.

After my recent illness I want to tell you that I am back to normal. I want to tell you I am fine.
And I am. I am busy packing orders, blogging, meeting with clients for coaching or readings, I am back at my exercise physiologist sessions, back in the kitchen prepping meals and baking Christmas cakes.

Situation normal, right?

Yes.

And no.

As many of you will know, I caught RSV back in early October. It progressed to pneumonia and then, just as I was getting better from that, I ended up back at the beginning of a myxedema crisis, where my thyroid slows to dangerous levels.

I first experienced a myxedema crisis in July last year. My doctors assured me it would never happen again. And then a few months later it did. That shook my confidence a bit. It shook my belief that I would always be able to manage my way through any health situation. Still, I told myself I was okay, and did my best to believe it.

Ultimately though, later that year I realised I have anxiety around health issues. That awareness came unexpectedly crashing down on me when I was sitting with my Mum in her hospital room. I was okay – it was Mum that was unwell. I was fine until a nurse brought in a tiny bag of an antibiotic infusion for Mum. I recognised the bag, and the smell of the drugs. They were the same ones I was given ineffectively back when I almost died of a hospital-acquired superbug bladder infection. After which I lost functional vision for months because prescribed drugs damaged my eyes (and they never fully recovered). As I watched Mum get hooked up for her IV I fought down a panic attack. It was all I could do to get out of the ward, get into the car, and get home.

After visiting Mum at the hospital that day I was thrust back into nightmares which then visited nightly for months. Things I had forgotten about for years. Pain, blindness, terror, botched IVs, surgery complications, heart issues, my agonisingly brutal years of lyme treatment, my complex hysterectomy and perforated bladder that led to emergency surgery and three years of chronic bladder infections which I could never fully clear. Post-anesthetic complications due to a previously undiagnosed genetic condition (pseudocholinesterase deficiency) where my heart rate and body temperature dropped dangerously low post-surgery because I could not clear the anesthetic drugs out of my system and I was semi-conscious for days. My dreams were filled with hospitals, misery and feelings of loss of control.

It was ridiculous. I began to worry about going to bed at night. I had huge issues with insomnia, nightmares and waking visions. Off I took myself to my trauma psychologist (I was working with them on work-related issues, not my health), and they diagnosed me with health-incident-related complex PTSD. After a few sessions with them, and after stopping everything so I could get plenty of rest, I felt pretty much back to my old cope-with-anything self. I hoped that might be the end of it.

Fast forward to this year and I have been feeling strong, I’ve been working on my fitness and wellbeing, and I felt far removed from those dark hours last year. Until I ended up in the beginnings of myxedema all over again a few weeks ago.

I’m still struggling to get my thyroid back to some kind of stable function. My auto-immune stuff is off the charts again. But my doctors are proactive and responsive. They are monitoring me closely. Their care is reassuring.

Me?
I’m not quite myself yet.

There is this undercurrent of fear, an undertow of uncertainty about my health, and far too many memories and dreams of other times where I have ended up in hospital, or been non-responsive to treatments.

I’ll be honest. After this latest thyroid hiccup I’m a little freaked out again. Just a little. Not often. But it’s there in odd moments. And sometimes in the middle of the night…

So, back to my awesome psychologist I will go.
I’ll cut back my hours, and get more rest.
I’ll eat well and work on my sleep patterns and on breathing through my quiet anxiety over my current bladder pain and frequency flares (still haven’t ever quite cleared that infection), and my crazy erratic heartrate and misbehaving thyroid, and my increasing incidents of muscle weakness and balance issues.

I’m realistic. I don’t expect health miracles. I just want to have the best possible function for the longest possible duration. And I want to get on top of this undercurrent of emotion that keeps sneaking up on me.

I’m not quite myself yet. But I’m working on it.

I look fine. You’ve all been telling me I look great. And I am. But also, I’m not. Not quite.
I wanted to share that with you, because I know so many of you are fine. But also not. I know that many of you are carrying a load, that you are struggling on because that’s all you can do, and that sometimes your burden becomes heavier than you’d expected.

Talking about it helps. Getting help is healing.
I’m spending extra time in meditation right now, and I’m holding you in my meditations and prayers too.
Life can be breathtakingly hard at times, but in that same moment, still breathtakingly beautiful.
Take care of yourselves, lovelies. Be kind to yourself.
Love, mindful meditation, mugs of tea, magnesium and lavender, Nicole xx