Wednesday, February 06, 2013

"Tell me about your car accident" (or adventures in the chiropractor's office)

You may have noticed I was feeling rather sorry for myself in my last post. Well, it is hard when your treatment providers leave you behind, but I didn't mean to act as though everybody had left me behind. In fact, even though my therapist left me, I have other people around. As Mary pointed out, my friend who came to help me clean was being a good friend to me, and I definitely appreciated that. I didn't pay her as much as the work she did was worth. She was doing it largely as my friend because she said she wanted to help me. She said she couldn't believe the mental health housing agency that owns my apartment hasn't done anything to help me with this problem.

Also, I said in my last post the New Zealander had abandoned me, and that wasn't entirely accurate. He did move in with his ex-girlfriend, and no he doesn't love me and we don't have a romantic relationship anymore, but he has offered to still be there for me as a friend, so it wouldn't really be fair to say that he abandoned me.

Okay, so on to the chiropractor's visit.

I had never been to a chiropractor before yesterday. The one I saw was an intern, who I could see for free, because she's still in training. She took a very detailed history, which involved going over my plethora of weird illnesses that are little understood by most medical professionals, and which make me sound immediately like a hypochondriac upon mentioning them. I then had to go over every medication I take which included my psychotropic drugs and that was fun, as always. "Latuda??" They have never heard of Latuda anyplace. And then, finally, came the wonderful conversation about my car accident seven years ago.

Chiropractor, "You wrote down here that you had a minor car accident. Tell me about that."

Me, "Well the car rolled three times and was totaled so it wasn't really minor, but I wasn't seriously injured or anything."

"Which car rolled three times?"

"My car."

"You were driving this car?"


"Well who was at fault?"

"I was."

"Was anyone injured?"

"No one was involved but me."

"I don't really understand."

"It was basically a suicide attempt, so...."

"I drove into the side of the Skyway Bridge, okay?"

"OH!! OH my!! OH!! OH!!!"

I then tried to steer the conversation elsewhere rather abruptly. But it didn't work.

"Did you seek treatment in case you were injured?"
"No, because I was not well, and I was not taking care of myself at the time, so I did not seek treatment."

She wrote something down after I said that.

It's never good when medical professionals write things down. It always means something bad has come out of your mouth. Something incriminating.

Again, I steered the conversation away. She seemed relieved now. She said, "I think we know each other pretty well now. I feel like we should be having coffee."

I appreciated her not talking to me as if I were a freak of nature.

The end result was that they are going to do some treatment for my Fibromyalgia there so we shall see how that goes. I am hopeful about it.

I still haven't met my boyfriend yet. I mean, he asked me to be his girlfriend two weeks ago, but we haven't met offline yet. We just talk on the phone every day. He's very nice, and also has Schizoaffective Disorder, so I feel we understand each other. At the same time, I'm definitely not falling in love or anything like that. It is just more like a friendship. So we shall see how it develops.

And that is all for now.

1 comment:

  1. I laughed at the conversation with your chiropractor...not in an unkind way...I think dark humor is a useful tool when dealing with mental illness. I am, of course, glad you survived that "accident." :)


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