StressFest

severe elevation | high elevation | moderate elevation | slight elevation | stable | slight depression | moderate depression | deep depression | severe depression || anx: 1, agit: 2

Haven't been able to go online in the past week due to the ongoing craziness. My father had a stroke (hypertensive bleed) last Sunday and had to be admitted. He had a brain surgery and the sibs and I were uwillingly ushered into an unwelcome lifestyle overhaul. Fortunately things are now looking brighter - Papa's doing quite well considering the circumstace; add to that cheerer-upper the fact that a lot of friends-of-family offered their help and aid.

I'm not really sure where i am on the scale right now. It seems I'm in a nasty mix of both elevation and depression. The flavor of the week is Dysphoria galore. A thick stew of it. Anxiety isn't that high though; it's more of agitation. Try as I might to think happy thawts, my mind automatically reverts to headshots and strangleholds.

At the beginning of last week when all the real-life drama began, i think I was slightly elevated or in a dysphoric mania. I wasn't worried or panicky at all. In fact I found a hairline of fun in the midst of all the turmoil, because some sick part of me thought this was a never-been-to-before sort of adventure. I had fun prepping myself for answering questions at the ER. From past ER experience, i know ER doctors (or at least the Makati Med ones) can be such a****les when the patient or the patient's companion is a nitwit, so I did a quick mental review of my Dad's medical history and wrote a sh0rt script in my head that would describe what happened to him ad why we were bringing him in.

I had fun answering the questions that the doctors asked in their brisk, professional fashion. I felt like I was in an episode of House. In the first 20 hours at the hospital, I was asked the question What happened? at least twelve times and gave them my spiel at least twelve times. And yeah, I found that fun. I shot my answers back at them and asked questions at rapid fire mode; i was amused that though I spoke in manic speed they still caught what I was saying. People don't usually catch what I say when I'm elevated, so this cold manner of exchanging information was actually a treat for me. I dispensed the three-or-more-syllable words I had in my arsenal and they knew what I meant! Oh joy! Not once did any of the 20+ doctors I spoke with look me dumbfoundedly and ask "I'm sorry?"

But hey, roller coasters don't stay on the upswing forever. After the first few sleepless nights ad hectic days, I was ready to throw in the towel. And more than just the towel. Life's a be-yotch, and not the kind you can call BFF.

And it doesn't help that I can't get a wink of rest because well-wishers - both sincere ones ad busybodies - text every so often. And that nurses and /or interns and /or residents and /or surgeons come in every quarter of an hour or so to check on the patient. And that we, the patient's offspring, are constantly but unhelpfully coached by an epal uncle. And that my kuya is getting crankier and bossier than usual (to think that he's the cranky-bossy type already).

I'm not upset that my dad had a stroke. I'm not even upset that he had to be hospitalized and that bills are mounting. I'm agitated by circumstatials that I can't control.

Bad trip na talaga ito. This is so not good for me. Stressfest, mehn. I can't even remember to take my meds. Baka pagkatapos ng ordeal na ito, ako naman ang kailangang ma-ospital.