I’m going through some crazy medical adventures and a lot of people are bewildered at how I can handle this.

Support is key: when support is diminished, mentally sink.

Even if it’s one person, one smile, one kind word, I am helped, uplifted.

I struggle a lot and apparently the medical challenges are not getting easier, perhaps will become more complex in the future.

Yesterday I was told by my somatic practitioner to take it one month at a time. She didn’t say second by second or day by day as most people often relay to me. She doesn’t negate the future because let’s face it, the future is a likely reality. A month seems practical. She says things seem to fall into place for me eventually-I don’t like how that tends to be relatively last-minute.

Spirituality. No I’m not gonna go on a rant about what’s best or what to believe. Knowing/believing something greater than yourself exists may help. I’ve tried to not have my spirituality falter through these times, and truthfully (what else?), that’s been rough.

I feel happy today though and I’m gonna leave it at that. I’m grateful for this day and this feeling.


I’ve been struggling quite a bit lately after having been in hospital as the result of doctor neglect and incompetence. I thought I would die and since I ended up having sepsis, the reality of death was certainly possible.

A friend just called, one who I saw just hours ago. She was speaking to some friends about the concept of a healing room, and relayed what her room is like.

She invited me into her room, for healing. Her room sounded incredible. There was a part where she described a rock ledge when you lay on it molds to your body and the sun shines at different points. When she was describing hers, some of her imagery was similar to what my healing room would be like.

Then she asked what mine would be like. This is it:

My healing room would be entering into a lush green forest with a waterfall that splashes all in the middle and is the most brilliant blue.

The room has a door where once you enter, all negative energy is repelled as like the Patronus curse in Harry Potter.

The room cannot be found on a globe and can only be felt by a person. Of course my room has angels and my friends who are half angel and half human. The room has the ability to have others in it or just for me because sometimes healing is a solo mission.

He didn’t just mess with my body, oh no. That doctor messed with me psychologically, he didn’t listen to me when I said something was wrong.

I’m behind in school, because of his error. Catching up means I don’t have time to hang out with friends. I was already socially excluded when in hospital, now I’m continuing to be socially isolated attempting to catch up on work.

And yet, I can’t seem to do work to my usual level. My brain is foggy and I’m tired. I get it, I know, sepsis destroys the body.

Today a classmate said, “just break apart the word antibiotic… Anti-bio… It destroys your cells, the good and the bad”.

That’s when it occurred to me that the massive doses of IV antibiotics I received last week are similar to chemo-both medications destroy cells.

And so I sit and think about all of the work I must complete and then the psychological effects set in more and I become depressed.

I haven’t been depressed like this in over one year. He emotionally messed with my sanity too.

To think, this was all brought on by failures of the medical system. I hate being sad and I want it all to just disappear. The mistakes, the medicine, the hospitals, sometimes even my strength.

I don’t know how much more I can endure of this shit.

The person who I’m supposed to put my life in the hands of nearly killed me.

That explains why I felt half alive, half dead. His error caused me to have sepsis, for the second time in less than three months.

He didn’t listen when I asked if it was placed properly. The nurses didn’t listen when I said I was in too much pain for the procedure. No one really listened, until it was almost too late.

I was prepared to die.

The only way I’ve thought of to describe sepsis is an ache unlike any I’ve experienced.

Ever had the flu? The ache is kinda from the inside out. Sepsis is somewhat reverse. The ache starts at the core and then spreads deeper and deeper throughout the body.

There’s a reason some people refer to it as blood poisoning. I felt nausea, and not from pain. Nausea because my blood felt like a substance that didn’t belong in my body, like it was defective, dangerous, and poisoned.

I lost count but I think it was at least seven rounds of strong antibiotics through IV that was administered to me, using an antibiotic that is prescribed and reserved for severest of infections

You know yourself better than anyone, even a doctor knows you. Don’t trust these people who act like paragods, they too are human, and they too can make detrimental mistakes.

I walk around at slightly faster than a snail’s pace, in pain. Emotional? Maybe. Physical? Definitely. This tube feels like an extra appendage, a foreign object I don’t really desire.

I know this tube keeps me out of hospital-sometimes I wonder if the hospital makes me sicker. I knew the site was problematic, only hours after insertion.

The amount of pain I was in, and tenderness all around the area. I went to something similar to an urgent care yesterday, infection confirmed. The person who saw me wanted to send me to hospital. No way, I can’t go back and risk losing my sanity. So I refused asking if I could try antibiotics at home. I don’t have a fever, and if I do get one, I’d probably go to some hospital.

I was prescribed an antibiotic and anti microbial wash. The dilemma I have is that I tend to become sicker (in all types of hospitals for some reason). I think that if I were to go back, not only am I mentally depleted, I think I would only get physically sicker.

Most likely, it was in hospital I developed sepsis. Last time I was in, the person next to me died. I’m just fed up with medicine and how I know more than the doctors and staff who “take care” of me here. They don’t know what they’re doing and it lands me in a super awkward position. If I had supplies and a pharmacy at my disposal, there’d be no need to enter a hospital. I hate that they are mostly clueless and often careless.

I also don’t know if they over hospitalize here or if I am sick enough to re-admit. The most swollen part is an 8cm area from one of the fasteners. At the moment since it appears localized, I don’t want to risk my sanity and health to readmit.



Please note, I am combining two blogs. If you are following The Mental Health System; Friend, Foe, or Folly? (link- http://lockedupandinstitutionalized.wordpress.com) please continue following my thoughts at:



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The final product may take a few days, thanks for your patience 🙂





This picture outlines the “normal” trajectory of food.

According to a study performed in August, my food takes minutes to reach my stomach. The radiologist conducting the study informed me this pattern of delay is generally seen in people in their 80’s. Cool, 60 years ahead of the game.

I hate wasting food. Generally, I either finish what I take, even if that leaves me full. Lately, I’ve wasted a lot of food. If you don’t already know, I have a rare swallowing condition. It is in fact so rare that at the moment there is no name to it.

Dinner consisted of a few forkfuls of some type of bean and white sticky rice combination. It also consisted of me sitting there, feeling the food forcefully make way down my esophagus.

Whether it’s peristalsis or spams, I felt the solids travel down my throat, millimeter by millimeter. And it was uncomfortable. I tried a few more bites, and drank some water in an effort to guide the food down. I ended up choking on the water as is commonplace nowadays.

A struggle to enjoy any nutrients that I can intake, I now fear mealtimes. Socially awkward and obvious I have some sort of eating difficulty, I cleared my plate, full of food and left the dining hall.

I feel horrible for wasting and horrible to not have normal intake mechanisms. Grrrr….