IME doctors try to blame my new tendency toward depression on my life prior to the accident. Not sure how exactly they come up with that, but regardless, it's sure a problem now. And something I've been struggling with for the past couple of weeks. First the exhaustion from the reunion, followed by an ongoing crisis involving a fairly close family member and, finally, a lovely summer cold (bad enough that my mom didn't recognize my voice when she called about twelve hours after first realizing I was sick).
Before the accident I tried to strive for contentment. Not that I didn't have really happy moments, or really down moments-I think that's just the way it is for most people.
Did I get depressed? Yeah, sometimes I did. I spent most of 2002/2003 extremely depressed. Of course my dad was diagnosed with cancer, and then died from it. So I'm fairly confident in assuming that was normal. And I'm sure that that's playing a huge role in the worsening of this TBI/PTSD-related depression because August 30th will be the seven year anniversary of his death.
It's funny that before the accident the only three 'events' that made me sad were his birthday, my birthday and Christmas. For whatever reason, the anniversary didn't bother me much at all. But the past two years August has been very difficult to get through.
Anyway, between that, all that's happened this month, and the fact that I no longer am able to get treatment for anything (thanks to the IME reports), I'm having a tough time lately. The ability to 'bounce back' just isn't there right now.
I can't help but wonder if it's like this for all TBI/PTSD victims. If it will ever go away, or if there's anything I can do to get it out of my life. Being more of a vitamin, herb, natural cures kind of person, it's dismaying to realize that I really miss my antidepressant. And the counseling.
Is there a purpose for today's blog? Probably not. I think it's more to try and explain the sudden lack of posts than anything else. It's really hard to work up any enthusiasm for anything when you're exhausted, don't feel good, are missing your dad....and wonder if what you're stuck with post-accident is what you're....well stuck with.
After almost two years, that would appear to be the case.
Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
What a Week!
Exhaustion and depression aren't picnics on their own but, add the two together, and life becomes really hard.
I could say my family reunion started that ball rolling, and it would be sort of true. I could also go back further and lay the blame smack on the accident, and that would also be true. The accident did cause the issues with depression and exhaustion, and events of any kind exacerbate the symptoms.
But I'm not laying the blame on either one of those things. Nope. Now that those symptoms are starting to ease a bit, anger is setting in...again. So I'm going to give credit where credit is due-and that goes directly to my insurance company.
Sometimes I'm sure I sound like a whiny, broken record but...I didn't ask for any of this! I was obeying the law. I didn't run the red light. And even though I paid my premiums in good faith that they would uphold their end of our contract, should something like that ever happen, they failed. In fact, they failed spectacularly.
It took me well over a year to admit that I was depressed. I kept denying it, calling it burn out. Who wouldn't be burned out? You're in horrible pain, not sleeping, going to so many appointments every single week that you're head is spinning. Of course it's burn out.
Except it wasn't. So I finally gave in and accepted a prescription for an antidepressant late last year or early this year (I lose track of time). Between that and the counseling, it was getting better. Not great but better.
Until the insurance company sent me to their doctors, then canceled my benefits based on their 'unbiased' and
'independent' reports.
So no antidepressant, no counseling... The longer I'm away from both, the worse my symptoms are getting. Particularly the issues with the depression, quick temper and red-hot, instantaneous anger which, while never completely gone, had subsided quite a bit. Now they're back in full force.
Basically I'm back to the original post-accident mess and fighting to figure out how to control all that's going on. Without the help I need. Help that I paid for.
My mantra for today? And for tomorrow, next week, next year, 2020... Insurance companies suck!
Yeah, I know it's the weekend. But I figure after taking most of last week off, I'd post today anyway.
I could say my family reunion started that ball rolling, and it would be sort of true. I could also go back further and lay the blame smack on the accident, and that would also be true. The accident did cause the issues with depression and exhaustion, and events of any kind exacerbate the symptoms.
But I'm not laying the blame on either one of those things. Nope. Now that those symptoms are starting to ease a bit, anger is setting in...again. So I'm going to give credit where credit is due-and that goes directly to my insurance company.
Sometimes I'm sure I sound like a whiny, broken record but...I didn't ask for any of this! I was obeying the law. I didn't run the red light. And even though I paid my premiums in good faith that they would uphold their end of our contract, should something like that ever happen, they failed. In fact, they failed spectacularly.
It took me well over a year to admit that I was depressed. I kept denying it, calling it burn out. Who wouldn't be burned out? You're in horrible pain, not sleeping, going to so many appointments every single week that you're head is spinning. Of course it's burn out.
Except it wasn't. So I finally gave in and accepted a prescription for an antidepressant late last year or early this year (I lose track of time). Between that and the counseling, it was getting better. Not great but better.
Until the insurance company sent me to their doctors, then canceled my benefits based on their 'unbiased' and
'independent' reports.
So no antidepressant, no counseling... The longer I'm away from both, the worse my symptoms are getting. Particularly the issues with the depression, quick temper and red-hot, instantaneous anger which, while never completely gone, had subsided quite a bit. Now they're back in full force.
Basically I'm back to the original post-accident mess and fighting to figure out how to control all that's going on. Without the help I need. Help that I paid for.
My mantra for today? And for tomorrow, next week, next year, 2020... Insurance companies suck!
Yeah, I know it's the weekend. But I figure after taking most of last week off, I'd post today anyway.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
What Lies Ahead
I don't know about you but I worry about the future more now than I did before. If, almost two years after my auto accident, I'm still in a great deal of pain, I'm still not able to do many of the things I used to do, and I'm still experiencing issues with the TBI and PTSD, what will life be like in five, ten and thirty years?
Will the injuries to my hip, shoulder, lower back and neck be more likely to develop arthritis? Will the focus, fatigue, being over-stimulated too easily and all the rest of the brain injury symptoms continue to cause me problems? Is there really a connection between mild TBI's and the risk of developing Alzheimer's?
What about my writing? I've written fiction since I was fifteen years old (not gonna say how long ago that was!).
In twenty-two months I haven't even written a chapter in the book I was working on at the time the accident occurred. I haven't been able to write anything else in the fiction genre either. But, five months before I was hit, from conception of the idea to the final editing, I wrote a 45,000+ word book. Two or three weeks prior to the accident, I wrote a short story and submitted it to a national writing contest. (nope, there were two winners and I wasn't one of them)
Twenty years from now am I still going to be spending the majority of my time hiding out in my office because it's easier than being around people? Because crowds, or too much noise, or whatever are still almost more than I can bear? Because I sometimes fear being beat up should I ever give in to the urge to run a particularly rude person over with my shopping cart? (that urge rises up more often than you'd think-like every time I step inside a grocery store!)
Will driving around to look at fall colors, or holiday decorations ever not make me feel exhausted? Will I ever host another bonfire (a years-long tradition) for my mother's birthday? And what about my annual New Years Eve party? Just games, pizza and sodas, but it used to make for an enjoyable-and safe-celebration.
Then there's Christmas. I have more decorations than anyone I know-and I used put them on anything that didn't move. I also spent the end of November and all of December baking cookies, making candies, watching any and all manner of Christmas movies, reading all of my favorite Christmas books (which even have their own special shelf), listening to Christmas music from dawn until dusk...and just generally loving every single minute of the holidays. It's the only time of year when I didn't mind shopping-because I loved buying gifts.
I don't even remember the first Christmas after the accident. Well, except for two stand out events. One was baking one batch of three different kinds of cookies with my daughter because I promised. The previous year we'd been packing in preparation for a move to our new house in mid-January, so we didn't celebrate much. The first Christmas in our new house was supposed to be special, to make up for the last one. But I wound up in bed, and in severe pain, from that too brief baking session.
Then there was my family's Christmas Eve party, something we've done every year since I was a kid. That year my baby brother hosted it. And I was scared. I'd wound up in emergency Thanksgiving night because it hadn't registered yet that I couldn't bake and prepare for the holiday for two days without consequences. But Christmas Eve I knew what might happen if I overdid things again.
My biggest fear was that the party was being held in the basement rec room, which meant a steep flight of stairs. They offered to move it to the main floor, but they have white carpet and I didn't want to be responsible for any damage to that. So I didn't eat or drink anything all day because I knew I'd be lucky to make one trip down and then back up. If a visit to the bathroom became necessary, the party would be over for me and my kids.
But the party never really started for me because food preparation and the trip downstairs did me in. I had to take a pain pill-and required help from two people to get back upstairs when it was time to leave. Pretty sad memories of my favorite holiday.
Six months later, after a miserable, disastrous, and painful Easter dinner, I stopped inviting people to my house. Not that it was much of a dinner. I made minimal effort and my daughter did most of the work on the scaled down menu. That was the first year in my entire adult life that I didn't make four or five from scratch pies. I didn't even make one. Instead I bought two pretty little frozen cakes. And homemade rolls...forget it!
These are the things I wonder about. And you may wonder about me reminiscing about Christmases past in August. But that hasn't changed about me. I hated summer before the accident and I hate now. And one of the ways I get through these unbearably hot, humid days is to think about Christmas.
Only now I'm not looking forward to it. Now I dread it with all my heart.
Are these the kinds of things I have to look forward in my golden years? Nothing to look forward to? And let me tell you, a life mostly alone in my office isn't even remotely close to the life I had planned.
Will the injuries to my hip, shoulder, lower back and neck be more likely to develop arthritis? Will the focus, fatigue, being over-stimulated too easily and all the rest of the brain injury symptoms continue to cause me problems? Is there really a connection between mild TBI's and the risk of developing Alzheimer's?
What about my writing? I've written fiction since I was fifteen years old (not gonna say how long ago that was!).
In twenty-two months I haven't even written a chapter in the book I was working on at the time the accident occurred. I haven't been able to write anything else in the fiction genre either. But, five months before I was hit, from conception of the idea to the final editing, I wrote a 45,000+ word book. Two or three weeks prior to the accident, I wrote a short story and submitted it to a national writing contest. (nope, there were two winners and I wasn't one of them)
Twenty years from now am I still going to be spending the majority of my time hiding out in my office because it's easier than being around people? Because crowds, or too much noise, or whatever are still almost more than I can bear? Because I sometimes fear being beat up should I ever give in to the urge to run a particularly rude person over with my shopping cart? (that urge rises up more often than you'd think-like every time I step inside a grocery store!)
Will driving around to look at fall colors, or holiday decorations ever not make me feel exhausted? Will I ever host another bonfire (a years-long tradition) for my mother's birthday? And what about my annual New Years Eve party? Just games, pizza and sodas, but it used to make for an enjoyable-and safe-celebration.
Then there's Christmas. I have more decorations than anyone I know-and I used put them on anything that didn't move. I also spent the end of November and all of December baking cookies, making candies, watching any and all manner of Christmas movies, reading all of my favorite Christmas books (which even have their own special shelf), listening to Christmas music from dawn until dusk...and just generally loving every single minute of the holidays. It's the only time of year when I didn't mind shopping-because I loved buying gifts.
I don't even remember the first Christmas after the accident. Well, except for two stand out events. One was baking one batch of three different kinds of cookies with my daughter because I promised. The previous year we'd been packing in preparation for a move to our new house in mid-January, so we didn't celebrate much. The first Christmas in our new house was supposed to be special, to make up for the last one. But I wound up in bed, and in severe pain, from that too brief baking session.
Then there was my family's Christmas Eve party, something we've done every year since I was a kid. That year my baby brother hosted it. And I was scared. I'd wound up in emergency Thanksgiving night because it hadn't registered yet that I couldn't bake and prepare for the holiday for two days without consequences. But Christmas Eve I knew what might happen if I overdid things again.
My biggest fear was that the party was being held in the basement rec room, which meant a steep flight of stairs. They offered to move it to the main floor, but they have white carpet and I didn't want to be responsible for any damage to that. So I didn't eat or drink anything all day because I knew I'd be lucky to make one trip down and then back up. If a visit to the bathroom became necessary, the party would be over for me and my kids.
But the party never really started for me because food preparation and the trip downstairs did me in. I had to take a pain pill-and required help from two people to get back upstairs when it was time to leave. Pretty sad memories of my favorite holiday.
Six months later, after a miserable, disastrous, and painful Easter dinner, I stopped inviting people to my house. Not that it was much of a dinner. I made minimal effort and my daughter did most of the work on the scaled down menu. That was the first year in my entire adult life that I didn't make four or five from scratch pies. I didn't even make one. Instead I bought two pretty little frozen cakes. And homemade rolls...forget it!
These are the things I wonder about. And you may wonder about me reminiscing about Christmases past in August. But that hasn't changed about me. I hated summer before the accident and I hate now. And one of the ways I get through these unbearably hot, humid days is to think about Christmas.
Only now I'm not looking forward to it. Now I dread it with all my heart.
Are these the kinds of things I have to look forward in my golden years? Nothing to look forward to? And let me tell you, a life mostly alone in my office isn't even remotely close to the life I had planned.
Friday, August 6, 2010
More on PTSD
After researching the PTST/TBI subject the other day, one phrase just keeps coming back to bug me. That would be the one that went something along the lines of, "constant, relentless stress" will make PTSD symptoms worse.
Amazingly enough, that's exactly what your insurance company causes. I don't know about you but being forced to endure IME's ('independent' medical evaluations), when you know their doctors are going to say you're perfectly fine (in other words, lie), is extremely stressful.
Having to deal with all of their paperwork, which they usually 'don't receive,' or 'lose,' is also very stressful. Just a suggestion here, fax them in with a short cover letter that includes a 'cc' to your attorney. Surprisingly enough, they manage to hold on to them a little better when you do that. At least that's what I've found over the past couple of years.
Holding up approval on treatments, or items you might need for your recovery is also another way they work to cause you additional stress.
But so far the thing that sends me over the top are their interrogatories. If you haven't yet experienced that treat, prepare yourself for some serious anger. They are a collection of the most intrusive, obnoxious and rude questions I've ever had the misfortune to read. Basically, if your benefits are canceled-and you want them back-you're going to have to suck it up and answer every one of them.
My company demanded access to several years records of my bank statements and income tax returns, all of my medical records, and information that is absolutely none of their business. One of the most offensive ones wanted the make, model, year and VIN number of the vehicles belonging to anyone who might have stayed overnight at my house during the six month prior to the accident. Not only that, but they expected me to provide the insurance company address and policy number on the cars for each of those guests.
Excuse me???!!!
Just thinking about it is enough to make my temper flare. Of course I didn't provide the information. In the same way I didn't provide the names and contact information for the doctors who have treated me since the accident. Or the amounts of the bills either. Instead I referred them to their computer files, where they already have that information.
Why did I share this with you? Because if you, too, suffer from PTSD caused by an accident, your insurance company doctors will deny it exists, while the company employees go out of their way to make it worse. Their goal is to stress you out badly enough, make you so miserable, that you'll give up and walk away...from the benefits you paid for.
And all insurance companies do this. Some are worse than others. My case manager told me that she has worked with a lot of companies during her career and that mine was the second worst one she'd ever dealt with. Lucky me, huh?
Amazingly enough, that's exactly what your insurance company causes. I don't know about you but being forced to endure IME's ('independent' medical evaluations), when you know their doctors are going to say you're perfectly fine (in other words, lie), is extremely stressful.
Having to deal with all of their paperwork, which they usually 'don't receive,' or 'lose,' is also very stressful. Just a suggestion here, fax them in with a short cover letter that includes a 'cc' to your attorney. Surprisingly enough, they manage to hold on to them a little better when you do that. At least that's what I've found over the past couple of years.
Holding up approval on treatments, or items you might need for your recovery is also another way they work to cause you additional stress.
But so far the thing that sends me over the top are their interrogatories. If you haven't yet experienced that treat, prepare yourself for some serious anger. They are a collection of the most intrusive, obnoxious and rude questions I've ever had the misfortune to read. Basically, if your benefits are canceled-and you want them back-you're going to have to suck it up and answer every one of them.
My company demanded access to several years records of my bank statements and income tax returns, all of my medical records, and information that is absolutely none of their business. One of the most offensive ones wanted the make, model, year and VIN number of the vehicles belonging to anyone who might have stayed overnight at my house during the six month prior to the accident. Not only that, but they expected me to provide the insurance company address and policy number on the cars for each of those guests.
Excuse me???!!!
Just thinking about it is enough to make my temper flare. Of course I didn't provide the information. In the same way I didn't provide the names and contact information for the doctors who have treated me since the accident. Or the amounts of the bills either. Instead I referred them to their computer files, where they already have that information.
Why did I share this with you? Because if you, too, suffer from PTSD caused by an accident, your insurance company doctors will deny it exists, while the company employees go out of their way to make it worse. Their goal is to stress you out badly enough, make you so miserable, that you'll give up and walk away...from the benefits you paid for.
And all insurance companies do this. Some are worse than others. My case manager told me that she has worked with a lot of companies during her career and that mine was the second worst one she'd ever dealt with. Lucky me, huh?
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
A Residual Effect
Even though it's been almost two years, I haven't been given the go ahead to drive again. My occupational therapist set me up with a driving instructor they use for people with TBI's. The gentleman thought I would benefit from 6-8 sessions, then be good to go. Except, thanks to the results of insurance company enforced IME's, my coverage was canceled after the first one. And so I continue to remain a passenger.
Now I'm not sure if this particular effect would be better or worse if I were at the wheel, but I get very nervous at intersections now. Especially when people approaching stop signs and lights are traveling too fast and wait until the last minute to slam on the brakes. This happened today on the way to the grocery store and, per usual, it scared the heck out of me. I hate that. One, it is frightening and two, it annoys whoever is chauffeuring me around. It makes them think they're about to be plowed in to.
That got me thinking about my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD) diagnosis. IME doctors will likely insist that you don't have it-at least the ones I've seen have-but it is a very real problem in auto accident victims. Well, many different kinds of victims experience PSTD but, for the purpose of this blog, we'll stick with the accident part of it.
Symptoms can include flashbacks, nightmares, emotional numbing, insomnia, depression, avoidance, immersion, hyperarousal (anger/irritability), fear, anxiety... The list goes on.
They say the person suffering from PSTD is often the last to know, and that certainly was true in my case. I'd been under the impression that symptoms were limited to flashbacks and nightmares. Fortunately the nightmares never happened to me, but then when you only sleep 3-4 hours in every 24-hour period, especially when physical pain wakes you often, nightmares don't have much chance to bother you. The flashback experience has always been limited to intersections. Not every intersection, just in situations like I described above. And then I always brace myself for the impact of their vehicle hitting the one I'm in. But I just assumed that was a normal reaction following an accident.
My doctor is the one who first suspected it, along with the head injury. As soon as I got home that day, I started Googling PSTD and, sure enough, many of the symptoms described what I was going through. Feeling emotionally numb, except for a quick and foul temper, were things I'd already mentioned to the doctor because they were not 'me.'
I hated the fact that my temper could get out of control for little or no reason. From a state of numbness to absolute fury in the space of a split second. Even more I hated my reaction when, almost seven months after the accident, an aunt, whom I loved dearly, passed away. I am, or used to be, the kind of person who would cry the very second I saw a tear in someone else's eye during times like that. No matter how hard I tried to hold it together, one tear is all it would take. When she died I didn't feel anything. Except disgust with myself. Intellectually I knew I loved her, I knew I should be blubbering like a baby, that it should hurt but...I just felt numb.
Too many things on the list are issues I deal with now, and I won't go in to them because it would take too long. But I would encourage anyone suffering from PTSD to educate themselves on the subject. The more you know, the more you know what to expect. Forewarned is forearmed.
I've added a link on the left for a website I found to be well written and very informative. It deals mostly with Vietnam veterans, but applies to anyone with the disorder. If you want to know more, it's a great place to learn.
Now I'm not sure if this particular effect would be better or worse if I were at the wheel, but I get very nervous at intersections now. Especially when people approaching stop signs and lights are traveling too fast and wait until the last minute to slam on the brakes. This happened today on the way to the grocery store and, per usual, it scared the heck out of me. I hate that. One, it is frightening and two, it annoys whoever is chauffeuring me around. It makes them think they're about to be plowed in to.
That got me thinking about my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD) diagnosis. IME doctors will likely insist that you don't have it-at least the ones I've seen have-but it is a very real problem in auto accident victims. Well, many different kinds of victims experience PSTD but, for the purpose of this blog, we'll stick with the accident part of it.
Symptoms can include flashbacks, nightmares, emotional numbing, insomnia, depression, avoidance, immersion, hyperarousal (anger/irritability), fear, anxiety... The list goes on.
They say the person suffering from PSTD is often the last to know, and that certainly was true in my case. I'd been under the impression that symptoms were limited to flashbacks and nightmares. Fortunately the nightmares never happened to me, but then when you only sleep 3-4 hours in every 24-hour period, especially when physical pain wakes you often, nightmares don't have much chance to bother you. The flashback experience has always been limited to intersections. Not every intersection, just in situations like I described above. And then I always brace myself for the impact of their vehicle hitting the one I'm in. But I just assumed that was a normal reaction following an accident.
My doctor is the one who first suspected it, along with the head injury. As soon as I got home that day, I started Googling PSTD and, sure enough, many of the symptoms described what I was going through. Feeling emotionally numb, except for a quick and foul temper, were things I'd already mentioned to the doctor because they were not 'me.'
I hated the fact that my temper could get out of control for little or no reason. From a state of numbness to absolute fury in the space of a split second. Even more I hated my reaction when, almost seven months after the accident, an aunt, whom I loved dearly, passed away. I am, or used to be, the kind of person who would cry the very second I saw a tear in someone else's eye during times like that. No matter how hard I tried to hold it together, one tear is all it would take. When she died I didn't feel anything. Except disgust with myself. Intellectually I knew I loved her, I knew I should be blubbering like a baby, that it should hurt but...I just felt numb.
Too many things on the list are issues I deal with now, and I won't go in to them because it would take too long. But I would encourage anyone suffering from PTSD to educate themselves on the subject. The more you know, the more you know what to expect. Forewarned is forearmed.
I've added a link on the left for a website I found to be well written and very informative. It deals mostly with Vietnam veterans, but applies to anyone with the disorder. If you want to know more, it's a great place to learn.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)