Monday, February 14, 2011

Day 2: You're Fired.

February 14th, 2011

Enjoy your Valentine's Day? I hope so. I honestly believe everyone deserves to feel loved and supported. Feeling supported is such a huge part of what I consider important in any kind of relationship. Whether it is between family or friends, your lover or your medical team, feeling supported is part of the foundation of trust. And unbreaking trust, is such a huge part of happiness.

My morning started with my weekly psychiatrist appointment. Today was such a huge day as far as this appointment was concerned, whether he (my psychiatrist) knew it or not. Today would determine whether I continued to see him, or seek help elsewhere. So much has happened over the last two weeks, that what I needed was that support. I needed gentleness. I needed understanding. I needed direction. I needed to know I had someone outside of my immediate family and friends that I could talk to that would be a rock for me to lean against emotionally while I learn to sort through the miriads of emotional issues and mental disorders that I have been diagnosed with over the last six months.

I didn't get any of that.

Instead, I was informed that I acted stupidly, and that I needed to put myself in the social worker's shoes.

I got up, said goodbye and informed him I would not be coming back as I walked out of the door.

Why do I have to put myself in their shoes? Isn't it their JOB to put themselves in MY shoes and figure out where I am coming from? And if it is not, why must I always be the one to bend myself to everyone else? Why do I always have to be the one trampled on or put at the bottom of the pile? Does that seem fair to anyone? Why is my pain, or anger, or frustration, less valid than anyone else's? To my eyes, it isn't. And I have no intention of allowing anyone to make me feel as though it is. I don't care if they are the premier medical community of the Northwestern region, or if they have been practicing psychiatry for more years than I have been alive.

So that was the end of seeing psychiatrist McCoy.

Afterwards, when I had regained my composure, Mom and I went shopping at Fred Meyers. I have been craving foods like sprouts, carrots and bell peppers. I have no doubt in my mind that they will be beneficial to this new life, and have no intention of fighting those cravings.

I also purchased a three-ring binder, page protectors, and some trading card pages to organize the abundance of information that I am collecting. I should have bought another tiny little notepad while I was there as my poor little $.99 notepad from Arizona is already filling up quickly with information on all sorts of alternative therapy such as Aromatherapy, Biofeedback, and Ayerveda. At least those are topics on the page of the notebook in sight on top of the Cancer Society Guidebook.


Last week ar the University of Washington ER when they finally discharged me realizing "hey, she's not suicidal, she's just PISSED OFF" I got a brochure about a type of therapy for women with post traumatic stress disorder and borderline personality disorder that is low-cost/free for a year, and they will pay me every four months to be part of a study. Since I basically fired my psychiatrist today, I just called and scheduled a phone interview for tomorrow to see if I qualify to be accepted into their program.

Just because I give up on the Cancer Care Alliance, and pretty much all western medicine and practitioners of it, does not mean I give up on my life.


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