I have been thinking and thinking, looking over my records. No way did Dr. P ever want me on Zyprexa or back on Seroquel or any drug that would cause ridiculous weight gain or had polyphagia as a side effect. She acknowledged the devastating effect that Seroquel had on me.
But when I was in Mount Auburn Hospital, where I was literally imprisoned, the docs told me that Dr. P wanted me on Zyprexa and was in full support of what was amounting to forced drugging. The doc at Mount Auburn told me he refused to discharge me unless I took Zyprexa, and said for now, it would be PRN.
I took one and prayed it wouldn’t do too much harm. I was scared to take even one pill, remembering having taken Zyprexa and the intolerable effect it had on me in 1997. Within days, I was pigging out uncontrollably, nonstop, during every waking moment I had. Sure, I was underweight and needed to eat, but not like that! The doc I had back then took me off Zyprexa right away. Another thing it did was make me sleep 16 hours a day and during the few hours I was awake, I acted like a zombie. If they’d kept me on it much longer back in 1997, I guess I would have ended up hospitalized very quickly, since I was too dopey, even on the lowest dose, to care for myself, and the nonstop eating was rendering me unable to function anyway.
But I took the one pill, asking myself how on earth I would get out of forced drugging once I got out of there. I had no clue what my fate would be, if they would stick me on some psych ward and then court-order me onto the deconate, or if I’d be able to get out of going to the psych unit.
As it turned out, they couldn’t get me onto the psych unit. Finally, finally, finally, someone actually spent time with me, evaluated me, and determined that in no way am I violent or suicidal and they should never have put sitters on me in the first place. The person who took time to listen to me concluded that the sitters shouldn’t be there, since they were unnecessary, and what they were doing was stressing me out and making me pissed off. The person who actually listened understood my need for privacy and that the sitters had not only broken patient privacy laws without good medical cause, and also that I was telling the truth about the abuse.
This evaluation done by the outside organization was done on a Tuesday I believe, and they found no medical reason for me to be incarcerated on a psych unit or tormented any further. Unfortunately, the interview ended well after business hours and the person didn’t leave paperwork in my chart. She left and forgot. I lay in bed and waited and waited, knowing something would happen, something had been proven, but nothing happened. I knew somehow, something was amiss, but I had no clue the person had left without leaving paperwork.
The next morning, the med student showed up and when I inquired, she started to tell me I was completely psychotic and had imagined the interview. Told me it never happened, that this outside person didn’t exist, and that I was either lying or delusional. I got pissed off and demanded that she go to my chart, surely, this person couldn’t have left without a trace! But the med student came back and said there was no evidence of this interview.
Thank goodness for telephone access. I was strong and alert enough to be able to use the phone and make calls, so I remembered the name of the organization from which this person had come, and I phoned them. It took many calls before I finally reached the correct office. The person told me that the interviewer had most likely written up SEVEN PAGES about me, and that the fact that these seven pages were missing was an oversight. I asked if please they could phone the unit and arrange for immediate faxing of these seven pages. Of course, the staff was thinking all this frantic calling and arranging was some kind of delusional scheme on my part and that maybe I was “agitated” and about to off myself. Oh, the lovely misunderstandings!
So very shortly afterward, the fax arrived. This was Wednesday, around 11. Changes immediately happened, and 3 the sitters were finally out of my room. Not only that, I was allowed to close my door completely to have privacy and shut out the godawful hall noise. The following day (not that I had any clue this would happen before it did) I was released and allowed to go home. Liberated at last.
So since then, I’ve been asking myself, as I said, why on earth Dr. P would support my being forced onto Zyprexa? Know something? I don’t think she was at all in support of it. I plan to get my records ASAP. I’m sure they were completely lying that Dr. P wanted this Zyprexa deal, and were only saying it out of desperation to get me to take the stuff.
Wow, what an ordeal, and this is only part of it. I’m glad I got out of that imprisonment and am free now. Those people there were the insane and illogical ones, not me.