The calm after the storm
Since leaving hospital nearly every day was packed with appointments and check-ups. I had to go to physiotherapy for fittings, for hospital check-ups on the progress of my healing, for further operations, then more physiotherapy. Then there were the phone calls, none stop from solicitors wanting things, and to do home visits, occupational health doing welfare updates, and the police updating me on the court case.
It’s now been 6 months since I left hospital, and everything has stopped. On Mondays I just have a physiotherapy case worker coming out to the house for catch up, who has referred me to an exercise club called PALs, so soon her visits will stop.
On Thursdays I have a half hour session with a physiotherapist on my wrists to ease the carpel tunnel, and that’s it. I get the odd phone call from the occupational health for an update but I don’t have any more appointments. Just odd ones when I need my leg re-fitting if anything is wrong.
You would think I would be glad to have a bit of peace and quiet, but I’m not. I miss the attention, and the goals to set, and break. I miss impressing people and encouraging others. Apart from this blog that was my therapy as well, and now I feel lost.
My mood has dropped, and I miss being around ‘people like me.’ I don’t like taking drugs to cover up a problem but I thought I would try Amitriptyline for a bit (it’s a drug for depression). I’ve also asked my occupational health worker to sign me up to a local physiatrist to see if that can help. But as I have said before, this is my therapy and I feel that talking to some stranger about my childhood won’t change anything.
I have also asked to be signed up to an outdoor rehab group, but that’s not going to happen until summer next year. So I have to try and find something else to keep my mind active until then.
Because everything is so quiet now, for the first time since my accident I now have time to sit and think, and I don’t like that at all. Like I have explained in previous posts, I don’t have nightmares because I remember everything in vivid detail, and when I sit and think my mind plays over different parts of that day and my mood drops to the floor. I can’t stay on drugs for the rest of my life, and I have to learn how to deal with what’s in my head. Perhaps the physiatrist can help, I will let you know.