As I write this it has been one week and one day since my husband went into a crisis support unit here in town. It was snowing the night that he got evaluated so he didn't get taken to the unit that night. They came and helped transport him the next day. This is a good thing. My husband has severe depression. Severe enough that he has several suicide attempts under his belt and several hospitalizations.
Four days after that he went into the hospital. Again, a good thing. I fought for him to get that. His psychiatrist, who I think is a smarmy bastard, hadn't even contacted the csu to find out how he was until I called and complained about it. I shouldn't have been surprised, since this is the same man who changed my husband's meds and then scheduled an appointment for 2.5 months. Seriously? Who does that?
For 18 months we have been trying to get my husband ECT. We saw this same doctor over the summer. He said that my husband wasn't a good candidate, which, in my non-medical opinion, was utter bullshit. Three separate doctors, including 2 other psychiatrists, said that he was a good candidate. The only problem with them was the fact they didn't prescribe it. Dr. McSmarmy is the only doctor in our town to do that. The next nearest are an hour away, in separate directions.
He ended up with this doctor as his psychiatrist because our previous doctor's office closed. This guy was the only person in town to take my husband's insurance. Again, the next nearest one who had any openings was an hour away. We don't have a car, and that is just too far. We do have medical transportation, but still.
Anyhow, back to Tuesday. We went to the doctor's office, again it was snowing. We live in what I lovingly call the Great White North. I love it, but winters are long and snowy and cold. Tuesday was both. I went in loaded for elephant, and wanted to get him in the hospital for closer observation. I would have been happy for med adjustment, even though no meds work, or don't work for long. We have tried them all. Miracle of miracles, his doctor suggested the ECT.
He had his first treatment today. He will have around 10 treatments in the next 3 weeks. After than he will start going out towards a maintenance treatment. That's once every month, but we will build up to that point. This is a good thing. After 18 months, clearance from a cardiologist, which included a heart catheterization a year ago, another cold day. There were also the 2 different neurologists we saw. Hours of driving all over the state, hours of tests and procedures, only to get told no. It was frustrating. I could see my husband just collapse onto himself. And finally, finally, we have succeeded. I can't help but think about how different our lives would have been if he had this done 18 months ago. We are both hoping that this will be very successful and that our lives will be different. I have known this man for 17 years. For most of them he has been depressed, sometimes more than others.
I was at the hospital this morning after his treatment. He was coherent and no short term memory loss, which can occur. This isn't your daddy's shock treatment. There have been huge strides. He won't end up like McMurphy from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, great movie, see it if you haven't.
That is a lot of exposition to get to the actual meat of this post, and if you have read this far I owe you cookies. That is actually loneliness. The first few days of him being gone I got some space. Our apartment is tiny. There is no space for the three of us to get away from each other. Since we have to walk to get anywhere and my husband and I both have physical limitations we don't go a lot of places in the winter. We have had entirely too much togetherness. I enjoyed the hours to myself while our 15 year old went to school. He has been a clingon while his dad was gone. But today, I realized that the house was too quiet. It's already been too quiet at nights without his CPAP machine. I didn't sleep well the first few nights, and now I've gotten somewhat used to it, but it is still too quiet at 3 am.
I realized last night that I miss having him next to me in the middle of the night. Don't get me wrong, having the entire bed to myself, well myself and the three cats who own us, is nice. But, reaching out in the middle of the night and touching him is reassuring. I miss that when he is gone.
Dr. McSmarmy is talking about sending DH home on Monday after his next treatment. DH and I talked about it after his treatment today. We would both like him to stay in the hospital for another week. Dr. McSmarmy tried to blow off DH's opinion. Oh hell to the no. That won't happen when I am around. Maybe I will start going to all his appointments with the doctor now that I have seen how DH is treated. Although he tries to condescend to me. Yeah, keep that up and I will shove Dr. McSmarmy's overly whitened teeth down his throat. Politely of course, since DH asked me to be polite.
It isn't that I don't want him to come home or that he doesn't want to come home. He's bored out of his mind. We are just worried about him and his well-being. And when he comes home, I will be happy, at least until we spend too much time with each other again.
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