Things were going reasonably good… right up until they weren’t.
So, the fun began when my psychiatrist was being a fucking pussy about ordering certain things for me. I had told him that I wanted him to do certain things, and provided research support to back it up. One thing was to order high dose vitamin B6 to counteract my lithium-induced tremor. I provided a research paper, and I’ve taken that dose before with no issues. In addition to that, I wanted to go up on my Cytomel (thyroid hormone) to the dose I’d been on before. But no, he was a fucking pussy and too scared to order it. At least he told me that he was iffy on the Cytomel. He didn’t tell me about the B6, and I discovered when the nurse came to offer me 10% of the dose I should have been getting.
So I told them fuck it, I was done, and I wanted to leave. So they insisted on making me wait to see the on-call psychiatrist. This old bat was fucking loopier than I was. She told me she was going to certify me under the Mental Health Act because I seemed to be “dissociating.” What the actual fuck? I was not in any way dissociating, and I told her so. Dumb cunt certified me anyway.
So that was the end of me cooperating with anything. I didn’t take my hs (bedtime) meds, which meant I didn’t sleep, and I was up all night with the mice (of which there’s a clan of at least 3). The day staff that came on said I “refused” ECT this morning, but the fucking pansy-ass night staff were scared of me and didn’t say anything to me. It’s hard to “refuse” something when the staff aren’t talking to you.
Shitty timing, as my pansy ass psychiatrist is off today, so I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to fight to not have a second certificate done and be allowed to go against medical advice. About all I have to say to the staff is that they can go fuck themselves.
So that’s what’s going on in my world. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have an update that I’m out of here.