Moving Into the New Care Home

Posted on by Astrid

Hi all. I’m departing from the #31Days2022 prompts today, because the prompt for today, “other”, didn’t spark any creative muse in me yet. Instead, for today’s post, I am writing about my move into the new care home. It’s been quite the overloading day, to be honest.

I had set the alarm for 7:30AM, because the moving crew would be in Raalte at eight to collect my desk and chair. The rest of my belongings had been moved to the new home yesterday. Not surprisingly, I woke up before the alarm went off. Thankfully, there already was a staff available for me. When the moving crew had removed my furniture, I had breakfast at another table.

Thankfully, there still was time for a walk before it was time for me to collect the stuff that could go into the staff’s car and to drive off to the new home. This stuff included the soft toy I’d slept with, my clothes from the night before as well as the goodbye presents I’d gotten from the home and day center. One of the day center staff specifically came by to say goodbye to me on her day off.

As we got here to the new home, we were greeted by a man whom I’ve come to assume will be my assigned staff but of which I’m not sure. We were allowed to unpack, which took several hours. I had lunch after everyone else had already had theirs.

My staff from my old care home in Raalte left at around 2PM. From then on, several staff have come and gone into and out of my apartment. I did go for a walk around grounds at around 3:30PM. Several clients from other homes greeted me and my staff and started talking to us. I liked it, but it was a bit overwhelming at the same time.

At around 5PM, I got very irritable. The reason was the fact that my call button doesn’t work as of yet. It looks like it may’ve been set to be received at the night staff’s office in the main building, where during the day there’s no-one. I hope that’s true, as otherwise I won’t be able to reach anyone during the night.

I also found out there’s no handle to lock my room’s door from the inside without a key. I immediately drew the conclusion this means I can be locked into my room. Of course, the staff said they wouldn’t, but the mere fact that they can, causes me intense fear.

I am trying to stay as calm as possible as I write on my blog now that I’m alone. Thankfully, I can tell time – the staff verified this, which may seem stupid to those reading my blog but was actually validating to me. Now that they know I can tell time, they can tell me when they will be back. This does help me.

Coffee, Beer, Night Staff, Etc.: Questions I Asked My New Care Home #31Days2022

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. Today’s optional prompt for #31Days2022 is “coffee”. I was immediately reminded of one of the E-mails I sent to my assigned staff in preparation for my orientation visit at the care home I’ll be moving to on Wednesday.

One of the less important questions I asked was whether they have set coffee times and, if so, whether they brew regular coffee or “decaf shit”. I did point out, with a winking emoji, that it wasn’t like I didn’t want to live there if they served decaf all day, but that this’d mean I’d need to ask my husband to give me my Senseo back (if he even still has it) As it turns out, they serve regular coffee at least in the afternoon.

I asked some other questions too. Most of the first ones I E-mailed, were worded rather formally. Some of the other less important questions were about groceries. I asked whether the home contracts with a local supermarket or with a nationwide healthcare-specific superstore (the latter), whether they did chips and soda or (alcohol-free) beer on weekends and, if so, whether clients had to pay for those treats themselves. It turns out they offer these treats on Saturdays and clients don’t need to pay for that, but each client does have an account with the superstore in order to get extras, which they do need to pay for.

I also asked what my mailing address would be, since the home has a fake within-institution mailing address. Mail should be sent to the institution’s main address, with the fake address as an additional address line (I’m not yet sure how mail delivery people aren’t going to get confused).

More important questions had to do with the availability of staff. As it turned out, the early shift starts at 7AM and the late shift ends at 10PM, except on Saturdays and Sundays and every other Friday, when it’s 7:30AM and 10:30PM. That had me a little concerned at first, because I was worried I might not be able to get the right support at night.

Another important question was about the night shift. I knew that the institution night staff operate from a central office in the main building, but I wondered whether one night staff would be allocated to my home (and a few others) or whoever received my call, would come or send someone. It turned out whoever was in charge of receiving calls at that point, would send someone who was close by.

Thankfully, at my second orientation visit, I found out the door to the home is locked at night, so I cannot leave the home then. This is good in light of the 30 minutes or so between the late shift leaving and the night shift being able to fully step in. I am not in a medically fragile state, so it’s not likely I would die of a seizure or something within those 30 minutes. However, if I could leave the home on my own, it would’ve been quite possible that I’d wander around grounds all night. I am happy I will be as safe as possible in my new home.

My Bedtime Routine

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’m feeling a little stressed out and, as it is past 9PM as I’m starting to write this post, I thought I’d share about my bedtime routine in order to get myself comfy and relaxed for bed.

Usually, the staff come by my room at around 9:45PM to help me get ready for bed, like get into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I usually leave my socks on, as I’ll often want to stay up a little longer. The evening shift here at my current care home ends at 10:30PM, so the staff usually say goodbye then too and turn off my light. In the care home I may move to on October 5, the evening shift ends at 10PM, so I may want to move my bedtime back a little.

I can go into bed by myself, but sometimes I want the staff to stand by while I go into bed. I will pull off my socks. Then, I’ll grab my iPhone if it’s sufficiently charged and select a Spotify playlist to play on my music pillow. The music pillow is connected to my iPhone via its lightning port (and a lightning-to-audio converter). I love the Harp Lullabies playlist, the Guitar Lullabies playlist or some albums by Robbins Island Music Group or Dan Gibson’s Solitudes. I most commonly set the sleep timer for an hour.

I sometimes will have an essential oil blend in my diffuser too. Some aren’t very suited to sleeping, but I know of a number of relaxing essential oil blends, four of which I shared before.

I have a weighted blanket, which I pull up over me almost till my chin. I also will grab ahold of one of my soft toys. Sometimes, I’ll lay the tail of the lemur over my chest, while at other times, I’ll hold the dolphin or unicorn.

Sometimes, I need to shift my sleeping position. I can sleep in every position except on my right side, but my preference will vary. Once I’ve found a comfortable position, I’ll likely doze off pretty quickly.

The night staff does come by at around 11:30PM to check on me. This is mostly to prevent me sitting up all night without anyone noticing. I can also press the call button if I can’t sleep, but of course other than try to comfort me, there is little the night staff can do. That being said, I sleep a lot better now that I have the weighted blanket, music pillow and essential oil diffuser than before I had all these.

loopyloulaura

Between War and Peace

Posted on by Astrid

The stories we hear
Of war and peace
May cause us concern
Or relief
And yet
Reality
Is most often
Something inbetween

When orienting at the prospective new care home last Wednesday, a resident started talking unquietly about the war in Ukraine. She was quickly calmed by a staff, in as simple words as possible, suited to her intellectual capabilities.

That night, I heard an airplane or a helicopter fly by very low over my current home. I thought, perhaps influenced by the woman in the other home, that it was a jet fighter. “Are we going to war now?”, I asked the night staff when she responded to my call button. She put my mind at peace, saying someone had probably booked a night-time helicopter flight over Raalte. I took her story at face value and went to sleep.

The next morning, I found out that both of our stories are probably equally unlikely and reality was something inbetween: the helicopter had been called in a medical emergency to resuscitate a baby. Thankfully, the baby survived.

This post was written for Friday Writings, for which the optional theme this week is war and peace.

My Relationship With the Night

Posted on by Astrid

I have a really complicated relationship with the night. On the one end, I’m a true night owl and can enjoy sitting up late reading a book or browsing the Internet. Before the Internet, I used to listen to a talk show on Dutch public radio called “Night shift” on weekend nights between 2AM and 6AM. The show might’ve aired on week nights too, but I wouldn’t allow myself to stay up past 1AM then. (Yes, I wouldn’t allow myself. My parents didn’t set a bedtime for me past age ten or so.) In the show, people called in to ask for advice or opinions on sometimes rather mundane topics, such as the difference between fruit and vegetables.

One time, a woman called in to ask for opinions on her eye condition. She literally had a hole in her eye, she explained, which she could see when there was static on TV. The hole, however, also meant she was unable to see facial expressions, which limited her card-playing ability. She assumed that and wanted opinions on whether she could have gotten the hole because of fifteen years of almost daily crying. I don’t know whether she ever received a satisfactory answer, but I do know that story brought chills to my spine.

As I said, I’m a true night owl. Others might call me an insomniac. In fact, I’m pretty sure my relationship with sleep and the night was rather unhealthy for most of my life. As a young child even, I used to stay up late at night worrying about things I’d seen in the news, things I’d heard or experienced during the day, etc. My parents hardly comforted me. In fact, they pretty much left me to my own resources. That’s one reason they didn’t set a bedtime for me.

When I lived on my own in 2007, I had an even worse relationship with the night. I developed something akin to OCD that mostly showed up at night. I had to check each night whether my alarm was on, door locked, windows open, heating off, electronics unplugged and I’m pretty sure I forgot something. I’d spend hours going through my apartment checking each several dozens of times.

During the last week of my living on my own, I’d often leave my apartment in the dark to go outside and wander the streets. I still get flashbacks of this darkness now.

Once in the psych hospital, the first medication I was put on, was temazepam, a sleeping pill. That worked for all of two weeks. Then I got put on Nozinan, a strong sedative, which however kept me drowsy for most of the day too. Then followed nitrazepam and diazepam until I finally decided I’d rather have insomnia without meds than with meds.

I eventually did have to go on meds after all, but these were daily meds. I currently don’t experience severe insomnia, but I do experience disrupted, restless sleep and nightmares. I did back in 2007 too, but, though I did mention it when admitted to the hospital, it never got paid attention to. Thankfully, my latest addition to my psych med combo, topiramate, does help with this.

This post was written for today’s Tourmaline’s Halloween Challenge prompt: night.

Unsettling Dream

Posted on by Astrid

Last Monday, I had an appointment with my nurse practitioner. First, I said that I was doing pretty well. This is a big step for me, as I’m not normally accustomed to saying I’m well. He started talking about decreasing the frequency of our appointments and possibly even working towards ending my treatment. While I was able to say that this is far too early for me, at least talking about termination, it all still unsettled me.

I mean, I’ve had my latest med tweak only two weeks ago. Two weeks prior to that, I was in a major crisis.

Honestly, looking at it this way, it seems nuts that he even mentioned terminating. This honestly confirms my fear that if I’m doing well, it automatically means I’ll lose my help. Thankfully, I was able to keep myself from panicking and calmly told him that I’m not ready to stop my treatment now or in the foreseeable future. After all, I still want to lower my Abilify dose and that’d take a psychiatric provider to supervise too.

We eventually agreed on a re-evaluation in December or January and to keep the frequency of my appointments as it is now until then at least. My nurse practitioner already seemed to make it pretty clear he really wants to decrease our appointments by then, but oh well.

The following night, I had my first trauma-related nightmare since going on the topiramate. It wasn’t a direct reliving of a traumatic event, thank goodness. However, my dreams rarely are.

In my dream, I was standing on top of the Erasmus building of Radboud University in Nijmegen, a 20-storey building. Someone I didn’t recognize but who sounded strangely soothing was holding me in a comforting embrace. Then, she said: “Sit down please. I can’t hold you any longer.” Just as I was going to sit down, my right leg slipped and I was standing there with my right foot hanging in mid air. Then I awoke. I immediately realized the symbolism in this dream.

I had the sensibility to press the call button and the night shift came by. Thankfully, she didn’t just soothe me, but encouraged me to actually tell her my dream, which I did. She then confirmed that I’m not in Nijmegen now, but in Raalte.

Needless to say, I’m going to make sure at my next appt, my nurse practitioner understands that just because I’m doing well for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I’m ready to quit my treatment.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (January 3, 2021)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. It’s the middle of the night and I’m thinking of actually making myself a coffee. I’m too scared though that the night staff will hear me. I do have a Senseo coffee maker in my room, but still it might make a noise. Instead of making a coffee, I’m joining in with #WeekendCoffeeShare. This will be the last week of Alli’s hosting it. From next week on, Natalie will be taking over. I hope it will continue to be a success. Anyway, let’s have a virtual coffee and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that the holidays were pretty good, but I’m also so grateful they are over. I spent new year’s in Lobith with my husband. My oldest sister-in-law also came by for a few hours. It was good.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that, as you can tell, I’m really hyper right now. I tried to go to sleep at around 9:45PM, but soon decided I didn’t want to sleep yet. I texted my husband about the wax melts I’d bought for him and then went back to bed. Still no luck. Let me just say it’s now nearly half past three at night and I’m still wide awake.

I have mostly been reading other blogs. I have a lot of inspiration for new blog posts now. Hope my energy doesn’t dry up soon, so that I can actually write those blog posts.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you too about all the wax melts I bought. I used to have a Yankee Candle Scenterpiece wax melt burner, but I left it in Lobith because it’d be a bit of a hazard here. Not that it gets really hot or produces flames, but I still don’t want liquid wax all over my phone (it almost happened once when I still lived in our old home).

Anyway, now my husband apparently likes to burn wax melts, but he says I’m the scent expert. I am, a little, with respect to essential oils. I wouldn’t say I am a better judge of what are good wax melt scents or what my husband would like than he is though. Still, of course I’m honored.

I bought two Scenterpiece meltcups. These are €5.99 each, but the good thing is their cups can be reused for smaller wax melts. I got the sun-drenched apricot rose and the frosty gingerbread meltcups. The other ones I got are tarts, which are sold at €1.99 each. In total, shipping included, I spent about €27.

It feels good to be able to spend money again. Over the past few months, I’d hardly been spending money on fun things, because I’d worried about my long-term care copay. Like I said yesterday, it will likely increase by at least €70 a month, but my husband reassured me I can handle that.

That being said, it also feels very good to be able to find free stuff, like some books I got thanks to Bookbub. It doesn’t feel like I’ve been living a scroogey life at all.

What’s been going on with you?

Editing to add: I had just published this post when I realized it’s my 600th, woot woot! *Does a little happy dance.* Here’s to many more posts.

Yet Another Night-Time Crisis

Posted on by Astrid

Honestly, I don’t know why I want to share this. It’s late Monday evening here and I’m feeling okay’ish. Tomorrow, I’ll have another meeting with my CPN and nurse practitioner to discuss my treatment. This got us worrying a lot last night, so much so that we ended up in crisis.

As I probably said a few weeks ago, my nurse practitioner wants me to try acceptance and commitment therapy. This wasn’t what we’d expected at all and honestly I still don’t understand how he thinks it’s a good fit for my issues. I mean, it’s evidence-based for depression, anxiety and OCD, none of which we deal with to a significant degree.

He was also pretty dismissive of my trauma-related symptoms. Obviously he doesn’t believe we’re plural. Fine by me, though not by some of the others. But somehhow he seemed not to believe I suffer with any type of trauma-related condition at all. At least, he didn’t feel that trauma treatment could or should help us.

This got us worrying last night, as we really have no idea how to advocate for ourself without coming across like a malingerer. It got so bad that we ended up impulsively leaving our room.

After our last case of elopement, the staff decided to lock the door to our home, so I couldn’t go outside. The night staff though hadn’t come to my room to check on me yet. It was 11:10PM. The night shift normally starts at 10:30. Eventually, a substitute night staff came by, saying he had to do one-on-one with another client, that the real night staff was delayed and he was really busy so could I please go back to my room? That upset us greatly, so even though we went back to our room as requested, some of us started self-harming.

About twenty minutes later, the real night staff came to check on us. We were upset, so told her to leave. She left and we cried and self-harmed some more because we were still very upset. Our signaling plan says staff are to stay with us if we’re upset even if we tell them to leave, but I don’t know whether the night staff have access to this plan.

Finally, we left our room again and waited, still panicked, for the night staff to be alerted and to come check on us. She was distraught at seeing us so upset. It makes me feel shame and guilt for making her feel this way. She got us a PRN lorazepam, which calmed us slightly. Still, we didn’t sleep till 2AM.

Now I’m feeling okay again, but I’m still not sure what to do with tomorrow’s appt. I mean, after each crisis, my mental health team say I somehow managed to get out of it. They probably mean it as a compliment, but it doesn’t feel that way. Today, I didn’t even care to call the mental health team. I’m still shifting between wanting to give up mental health treatment altogether and demanding trauma therapy. After all, the reason the appt upset me so much is that it triggered my feelings of being unseen, unheard, unsupported. Then again, maybe we’re not worth being seen, heard or supported.

Dream #SoCS

Posted on by Astrid

I have a lot of vivid dreams. They suck at times. Sometimes they’re good dreams and I”m sad that they’re just dreams, but most times, they’re really distressing dreams. A few weeks ago, I dreamt that my husband was going to divorce me or I was going to divorce him because somehow (I can’t remember the details) my past identifying as a lesbian was getting in the way. Either I decided I was a lesbian after all or my husband got tired of me having identified as one. Or something. That dream had me distressed for days because I thought it somehow meant something. Like I was unconsciously unfaithful to my husband, which I have no intention of ever being.

Other times, I dream that I’m kicked out of or leaving the care facility. This also scares me, because I am to be very honest not 100% sure it was the right choice to go into it. I mean, yes, it’s much better for my self-care, but it does mean my marriage gets strained by my husband and me not being able to see each other as often as we’d like to or as we used to.

Last Thursday, I was in a bit of a crisis. I had been in the snoezelen® room for two hours on Thursday afternoon and as a result, couldn’t sleep. I also worried about my inability to travel to my husband each week by paratransit due to the limits on how much you can use that service. The fact that I had been in the snoezelen® room for so long and this is not the first time and I’m not sure what I can do during the day, made me think back to my old day activities. Then the fact that I cannot travel to my husband by paratransit even coupled with trains each week, made me think of leaving the facility and going back to live with him. I know this would be unwise in the long run, if for no other reason then because my spot at the old day center has been filled up already.

I E-mailed my staff at the old day center. Then I ran off. I made it to the bottom of the stairs, near the fire exit, before I realized I didn’t really want to run off. By then, the sleepover staff had heard me and called the night staff. She comforted me and I was able to go back to sleep. Back to more dreaming.

I am linking up with #SoCS.

A Night-Time Crisis

Posted on by Astrid

So I really need to get something off my chest. Yesterday was a mostly good day, as you can see from my previous post. However, in the evening, we landed in a pretty bad crisis.

It started out with the evening staff wishing me goodnight at 9:45PM. I still had to brush my teeth, so she asked whether I would manage. Normally I do, so I said “Yes”. When I was done brushing my teeth, my gums hurt from the inflammation and I was considering asking for paracetamol. I mean, I could’ve waited till the pain got severe, as I did the previous night, but then I’d have to bother the night staff.

I also realized the evening staff had left the light on. I had asked her to switch it off (it is a truly stupid switch which I can’t work), but she had asked me how I’d manage without light if I wasn’t ready to go to bed yet. Well, like, how I manage virtually all the time without light. I have light perception, which can be useful but in this case was more bothersome, in that it meant having to go to bed with the lights on. I can write blog posts and do basically everything with the lights off, but I cannot sleep with the light on. So inbetween the argument of whether I would be comfortable in the dark, the staff actually forgot to turn off the light.

As it was only 9:50 and the staff are supposed to be here till 10:15PM, I went looking for the evening staff rather than push the call button. She was gone. Then I pushed the call button. No response. In the next 30 or so minutes, I got increasingly panicked. I heard the buzzer go off so assumed the evening staff either must be somewhere but not care, or she’d left the phone with the buzzer in the house rather than having given it to the night shift. So how would I reach anyone now?

I was very panicked, engaging in self-injurious behavior, screaming and shouting. I was so scared and angry at the same time. If the staff are supposed to be here till 10:15, why did she leave by 9:50?

At one point, I somehow opened the door to leave the unit. Our unit is at the top floor of the building. It is sort of locked, in that my fellow residents can’t work the key to open it. I thought neither could I but somehow I can.

I ran out the door, intending on I don’t know what, going outside or something. My first response in panic is either fight or flight, and in this case I utilized flight quite literally.

A staff from the downstairs unit found me crying at the top of the stairs. Another staff from our neighboring unit came to the rescue too.

It turns out the night shift doesn’t start till 10:30. This is one night staff who caters to the entire facility, so she isn’t physically present on my unit most of the time. Well, how am I going to reach a staff in an emergency if the evening shift leave at 9:50 (or 10:15 in an ideal situation) and the night shift doesn’t come on till 10:30. My staff eventually found the solution of giving their phone to the neighboring unit, where staff is available till 10:30.

Finally, the night staff, who had joined the other two staff in helping me, gave me my paracetamol, plus a lorazepam to calm my anxiety, and turned off my light. Nonetheless, I didn’t sleep till around the second time the clock hit 2:30AM (daylight saving time ending). The night staff, though she hardly knows me as she only works nights, was nice enough to sit by my bedside and comfort me for a little while.