illness

My 19 year old self reflecting on a traumatic event as a student nurse

As a student nurse, it was drummed into us how important it was to regularly reflect on things that happened during our times on placements. The following was a reflection that I wrote when I was 19. This happened during the lead-up to my mental breakdown.

(Names have been changed to protect identities).

During my fourth placement, on my alternative branch (adult) I had been taking the same men’s bay of 6 patients for about 3 weeks. I had become familiar with all patients, and their conditions. Four of the six patients were bed bound. These patients were either confused or unable to speak. One of the other patients, James, was a stroke patient, with a right sided weakness and expressive dysphasia. The remaining patient was the only one who could move around independently, and communicate well.

Eddie was an 85 year old man who was being treated for a urinary tract infection (UTI). He was also known to have a 7.5cm aortic aneurysm. He was slightly confused, and had been having hallucinations for some time. Due to being confused, Eddie often tried to get out of bed as he was fed up with being on bed rest.
On one shift, I had spent most of my time in this bay, watching the patient’s who were known for trying to get up, and doing hourly observations on a very poorly patient. Eddie had tried to get out of bed again, as he wanted to look for his sons who were due to visit. After confirming with the nurse earlier in the shift, I had told Eddie he would be able to go out in a wheelchair with his sons. After putting him back to bed, I left the bay for a few minutes and heard James shouting for me. This was extremely unusual as James did not like to speak unless he had to and he also struggled to say what he wanted to say due to the expressive dysphasia. I went back in, to find Eddie shaking, and clearly having difficulty breathing. As there was no response when I spoke to him, and no pulse I pulled the emergency buzzer and shouted to one of the health care assistants to get the sister, Jane.


Jane checked for a blood pressure, and immediately shouted for somebody to bleep the crash team and bring the resuscitation trolley. Within seconds, there were doctors around the bed, trying to get a line in and take blood. They had quickly started bagging and compressions.
As I stood watching, I could feel myself shaking. Everything was happening really fast and I was so shocked that a minute earlier, Eddie had been completely fine. I stood with one of the health care assistants, and said to her that his feet were already white. That was when it became clear that he would probably not survive. Though he was making some respiratory effort himself, there was no output, and after a few cycles the anaesthetist asked me if I would take over doing compressions. With their help, I managed to do a few cycles, until I became tired, and then stood back to let somebody take over. After many cycles, there was still no output, and so the doctor’s agreed to attempt to shock Eddie.

After one shock, an output was found, however it was still too weak and his respiratory effort seemed to be failing more and more.
Potassium levels in Eddie’s blood were checked, and it was agreed that if they were within normal limits, resuscitation should be stopped (normal levels indicated that it was likely that the aneurysm had ruptured). After another few cycles of compressions, and blood results which were normal, it was agreed that they should abandon resuscitation.
The doctor asked if anybody had any strong objections, and I wanted to tell them to carry on. They had got an output after shocking him, so I had thought he was going to be alright, and so my instinct was to tell them to keep going and to shock him again. However, Eddie had an aneurysm and even if he had survived, he would most likely be brain damaged. After stopping resuscitation, Eddie carried on making some respiratory effort for a few minutes.

I went in with the Doctor and another nurse to break the news to Eddie’s sons. They were really strong, and both agreed to go and sit with him while he took his last breaths. Eddie passed away with both his sons holding his hands. When they had left, I helped Jane lay out Eddie’s body and clean him up. I found this to be a very peaceful thing to do, and was pleased that I had been given the chance to do it.


Afterwards, I went to see how the other 5 patient’s were doing, including those who may not have been aware of what was happening. James was crying. He was obviously distressed, as he was the only one who saw Eddie during the first few seconds of what was happening. I explained to James that he had done really well in shouting me. Though he had difficulty in communicating, he still managed to speak a little and he felt the need to reassure both himself and me, by saying that Eddie had lived his life, and that this was his time. After a chat with James, and after calming him down and settling him to bed, I went off to carry on helping the health care assistants. Walking past the office, Jane shouted me in, to ask if I was alright. At this point, it hit me and I realised what had just happened. I was in shock and in a way blamed myself for not being fast enough or noticing something was going to happen. Jane reassured me that I had done well in raising the alarm so quickly, as well as participating in the resuscitation. She also claimed that Eddie would not have felt anything, and that it was comforting that he died with his sons there. After telling me I had handled the situation really well, she also told me that she had seen me check the other patients were ok and said that this was a nice thing for me to do.

I talked through my feelings with her, telling her that I had felt a small sense of relief when they had got an output after shocking him, only to be devastated when they gave up. The main thing that was upsetting me at this point was that it had all happened so quickly. Within minutes, he had gone from laughing at me after putting him in bed again, to being unconscious, and eventually passing away.
I was amazed at how well Eddie’s sons had taken in the news, however I realise that they knew the aneurysm could kill him at any time.
Though I felt guilty for not being able to help him in the way I wanted, I had to realise that Eddie had “lived a long and happy life”, as his son put it, and that even though it was what I wanted, it may not have been what he wanted. It is important to think about the quality of life for the patient after something like this happens, if they survive.
I was upset that this had happened so quickly, however Eddie would not have felt it and would most likely have been unaware of everything.
Laying out the body was a special thing to do. It was the last thing I could do for him, and I felt honoured to be doing it. However it was still a difficult thing to do, as he looked like he was peacefully sleeping and that he would wake up any second to tell me a joke. Even though I knew he wasn’t alive, I still explained everything I was doing, as did Jane. I felt it was important and though he physically wasn’t there, it was still important to treat his body with respect and dignity.

Looking back, I realise that the crash team, the ward team and myself did everything possible to keep Eddie alive, but it is important to know when to stop and accept what is happening. The staff on the ward, especially Jane, were supportive which I think was a lot of help to me. They understood how it feels to be in the situation I was in and they were all a great support. One of the health care assistants told me that I had done a brilliant job with Eddie that day as she had seen me chatting to him while feeding him dinner.
Eddie was happy on the day he died and had spent most of the day laughing at me when I put him back to bed. Knowing he was happy brings some comfort. Though he was confused and having hallucinations, he was still aware of everybody and everything going on around him.

I would not change anything about this situation if it happened again. I acted rapidly, raising the alarm and getting help. I took part in the resuscitation and stayed strong and calm throughout, even though I wanted to cry. I was there while the doctor told Eddie’s sons, who I also knew from looking after him so much and again, managed to stay strong as they had done. I had laid out Eddie’s body, which I felt privileged in doing. I also took into account my other patient’s in the bay and checked they were feeling alright. I managed to calm James down as well as reassuring him that he did well to shout for me. Most importantly, I spoke to Jane about how I was feeling which was a big help. If I had not spoken to Jane, I would probably have carried on until the end of the shift and then would have got upset when there was nobody to talk things through with. The most important thing is that I learned a lot from this experience and that I can take all this away with me for future experiences.

An unexpected conversation.

Have you ever had a dream where, when you wake up, you can’t shake off the feelings it has left you with? Have you ever felt compelled to double check that whoever was in that dream is ok?

For a couple of years now I have struggled to remember any of my dreams. I only remember through having one or two images from the dream the following day. And of course, a nagging feeling or emotion that I have trouble identifying. I have tried different things to work out what is going on. Why these dreams are happening the way they do, is still a mystery. It’s difficult to understand them when I remember so little.

Many different people have been in my dreams, and though I get a nagging feeling, I am usually able to contain it and move on from it without anything bad happening.

The other night, I dreamt about my ex therapist, who I started working with 15 years ago. For 5 years, we worked through many of the issues I was dealing with. We developed a brilliant therapeutic relationship, although it took me a long time to fully trust him.

I don’t remember what happened in the dream. I just knew he was there. When I woke up the following day, that worry stayed with me and he kept coming into my thoughts. This has happened before, so it wasn’t a surprising occurence that I was unfamiliar with.

A few days later, and I woke from another dream that he was in. Again, I don’t remember the content. I just remember him being in the dream, and waking up to that awful feeling. I tried, again, to dismiss it. But eventually, as the day went on, my feelings got the better of me and I emailed him to check in.

Our emails were nothing out of the ordinary. The general pleasantries having been covered, we ended up talking about our therapy days. It was interesting to hear his perspective from that time. For all this time, I have only had my own perspective and my own memories of our therapy. With a lot of those memories being vague, and some even missing, it was interesting to discuss his perspectives also.

When I think back to that time, I can see I was in such a dark and difficult place. But I never realised how deep that ran. And I never really realised how he saw things. He mentioned that he often worried that he had pushed me too much through difficult sessions. I reassured him he never did that. I remember it being much easier for me to be pushed. I struggled to simply offer up information and so there were many times where he did have to push me, where he had to ask me questions in order to get anything out of me. There were days where I was just so overwhelmed by emotions that I would shut down. Not just mentally either; I would feel physically paralysed. Sometimes I could hear him asking me questions, trying to help me ground myself, trying to get me to move my eyes, to stop that fixed stare. And even though I could hear him, I was stuck, within myself. On the inside I was screaming for him to help me; banging on the internal walls I’d built around myself and screaming as loud as I could in the hope that he would hear me. On the outside, I was still, my eyes fixated on the same spot, unable to even nod or shake my head in response to his questions. Eventually he would help me to regain control.

I remember when he would try to reassure me that it was possible that things could improve and that I wouldn’t always feel so bad. And sometimes I would question his hope and optimism. I would reply that he was just telling me that because he would never dream of telling me that I was doomed, and that things won’t get better. Calmly, he would explain that he genuinely believed what he was saying. I never believed him and I never accepted his hope or allowed him to express it without biting back at him. Though I do know that he meant everything he said in that regard; he really did believe that I had hope of moving forward from the trauma I’d experienced.

In his own words he recently described me as being, all those years ago, ‘tormented’, ‘closed down’ and ‘hard to reach out to’. And in retrospect I see that 100%. He also told me that he didn’t know if I would survive, which made me realise how lucky I was. I was lucky to have not purposely killed myself. And I was even luckier that I didn’t accidentally kill myself through self-harm, overdosing, ligaturing. My life could have been wiped out and I wouldn’t be here today to share my experiences. And now, 15 years on from when I first met this person, I can happily say he was right. His fear that I may not have survived was very real and he had good reason to have the concern. I don’t think he was the only one with that worry.

When you are in the midst of depression and other mental health problems, it is near impossible to ever believe you can get through it and have a better life.
I am living proof that it is possible to survive. Never be afraid of reaching out when you are struggling. There will always be somebody who is willing to help, support and guide you. I would give anyone my time if they needed it or asked for it. Plenty of people have given me their time throughout my life when I needed it. And I believe that is partly why I am still here today.

You never need to suffer alone❤️

Chronic Fatigue isn’t just about being ‘tired’, it’s about my whole life

“I’m exhausted” is all I say these days. I get so tired it drives me to tears; tears that are for more than one reason. I cry because I’m so physically exhausted I feel ill, and I cry at what that brings – it interferes with my personal, social and work life. Sometimes I have to let people down at the last minute because my energy has depleted before my day has even started. Even if I’d had a fab sleep, I could wake up feeling like I’ve been up all night. Some nights I am up all night. I hate sleepless nights, I’m always so bored. Nothing interesting on tv, most people are sleeping, even the dogs don’t wanna know. I usually spend the night lay in bed on my phone for an hour, downstairs for a bit, back up, then back down, all the way through til the morning. My phone will bing early usually, and when it does I get excited that the world is waking up. Might sound mad, but that’s how lonely I feel when I can’t sleep, especially when I feel like I could sleep. At the moment, regardless of the amount I sleep at night, I can’t get through a day without having to go and lie down. Sometimes I lie there for hours, other times I sleep for hours. Mostly I lie there feeling absolutely physically drained, while my mind feels foggy. Through the fog, every now and then, I am anxious because I have a lot to do and don’t feel like I have time to be lying in bed for hours. That, is the most frustrating thing. Knowing that the kitchen is a mess (still), that I’ve not hoovered for a couple of days (again), that I have emails and texts to reply to (that are almost a week old). When I’m feeling “exhausted”, I’m speaking literally. My body has just enough energy to keep me breathing at times it feels, and even breathing hurts during these flares, because of the soft tissue around my ribs. Those are the very bad days; which can last weeks actually. 

I was really made up that I did the 5k run last week. Then I was bounced off that high, right back down with a bang when I realised I wouldn’t be able to do it this weekend just gone because I was still in agony and my fatigue was keeping me in bed most of the days. So frustrating wanting to do things I can’t do anymore, or having to go at a slower pace than I’m used to. 

Anyway, if I am to try and remain positive, then I should try to stop looking at what I can’t do about it and see what I can do. I’ve noticed more recently that my imaginative and creative sides are becoming more prominent again. I’m getting more ‘light bulb’ moments with ideas that just pop up. Usually something I can do with the house. My most recent idea was to upcycle an old lamp I was going to get rid of. So I should try to encourage that more in myself at the moment I think, especially when I’m feeling this tired. It will give me something to do, isn’t too physically demanding, it can be an ongoing project that I keep going back to. I need to do something so I don’t go insane. And I don’t mean insane from boredom, I mean I need to do something, because at least I won’t then be doing nothing. Doing ‘something’ is better than ‘nothing’, for me anyway! 

Choices. Just; choices!

I came across this meme on Facebook earlier and thought it was very apt. At the time, I had just been having a conversation about my recent changes in attitude. The fact that I’m striving to improve myself, be healthier, look after myself more. And that all this work I’m doing is “for” me; nobody else is asking these things of me; they are things that I am hoping will improve my overall health and general wellbeing. And I have realised, nobody can do it “with” or “for” me. People can encourage me, support me and give me feedback but ultimately it is only me who can do it. Because I am the one who is making these choices, with choices being the operative word.

Everything we do, we choose to do. We “choose” to eat to survive or to enjoy the taste etc. We choose to go out, stay in, drink alcohol, smoke; basically everything. I know some people may argue this, some people have said they don’t “choose” to work and they “have” to work to earn money to survive. That’s a fair point, however you’re still choosing from those 2 potentials; do you choose to work to survive, or do you choose not to work and risk the consequences of that whatever they may be. You choose the lesser of the evils, but that doesn’t mean the lesser evil will be a great alternative.

In moments of desperation, when my world had crashed down around me and almost buried me alive, I ‘chose’ to hurt myself. The only options or choices I could see at that very moment were: I hurt myself right now to relieve the feelings or I kill myself to permanently stop the feelings. I could never see other options in those situations, where I can now (for example, an alternative option could have been I could have tried to tolerate those feelings a little longer, reminding myself that they were thoughts and feelings and they could not hurt me). So I’ve realised (just now by writing this very random post), that problem solving is quite important, in order to try to see the other choices you have. Opening up your mind, slowing down your thoughts, reassuring yourself. Maybe then try to take a step back from it for a few seconds and consider your options. That 10 or 20 seconds when you take a step back and assess the situation properly, could potentially distract you enough to really reduce your urges or feelings. That is not easy, but try just by reminding yourself every day to use that 10 or more second step back from things so you can gather yourself.

Well now you have a choice to make. Try the above or don’t try the above. Further choices along the way, if you do try, do you give up after 1 failed attempt or do you keep practising until it gets easier? If you ignore the above, is there anything else you can try that might help? Or would you choose not to end the cycle at all?

All choices that come with their own consequences; positive & negative. Which is the lesser alternative? Is that a lesser alternative for the short-term? Or is it the lesser alternative for the long-term? Sometimes we have to choose harder options in order to improve things for the long-term. That means pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones, making choices we might not usually make and trying things that might fear us to death.

Choices choices choices 🙂

Borderline Personality Disorder: We found love in a hopeless place; literally!

Relationships have always been a sticky subject with me. To be quite honest I’ve always preferred being single, and even as a teenager, was never really interested in finding a boyfriend (or girlfriend for that matter). This was possibly a lot to do with previous experiences in relationships; I usually always gave in to my partners and they usually had full control of the relationship. Even if that meant I wasn’t happy; their feelings were always put before mine (which I believe is called ‘subjugation’ sp?).

I’ve had a number of relationships, some short term, some long term. Nothing ever too serious. The fear of commitment was far too much for me. I much preferred being on my own, enjoying ‘me’ time at home on an evening, not having to check with your partner before agreeing to go out in case they’ve made plans for us etc. And I very clearly remember discussing this in a group setting about 2 years ago; “I don’t ever want to get married, I don’t want kids, I’m happy as I am and that’s that”. Anyone dared suggest otherwise I’d freak out.

There was one person in this group who I considered to be a friend. We’d not long known each other, but I instantly felt comfortable around her because she was just so laid back and chilled out. I admired people who were like that; because it was something I could never be… I did not “chill out” and was always on the go, worrying about something, feeling tense. I could never have the attitude of “don’t worry, it’ll be fine”. Being friends with her really helped me to be able to start doing that and now I’m so laid back I’m horizontal at times. I don’t worry half as much as I used to. I don’t stress about the little things like I did.

We were very good friends and I could tell her anything, with her feeling the same about me. I didn’t have any ‘feelings’ for her in the beginning. And, in my mind, I was ‘straight’; the thought of being in a relationship with my friend who also happened to be female just never entered my mind. Then eventually, just before Christmas 2014, I realised I was falling in love with her. I did have feelings for her and I loved her and wanted to be with her. You can imagine, I was pretty dumbfounded at this point; what the feck do I do now?

At first I tried pushing those feelings away. It was scary to think I might be falling for a female; I wasn’t ‘gay’. The feelings grew stronger and after finally discussing it with my CPN, I managed to work through my anxieties and fears, before coming to terms with the fact that actually, you really can’t help who you fall for. Never in a million years did I expect I’d be settling down with someone of the same sex, but it’s happening.

We told family and a small selection of close friends just after christmas 2014, and have been together since. I can honestly tell you, I have never been in a relationship like this and it certainly isn’t dysfunctional. In almost a year of being together we’ve not had 1 single argument. We talk things through, we’re honest at all times; if I piss her off she’ll tell me (in a kinder way) and vice versa. There’s nothing we ever need to argue about; if we disagree about something we’ll discuss it and work through it or agree to disagree. I absolutely love her to pieces, she is my world. I’ve never met somebody before who I felt I could spend all my time with and always be happy. Of course, we both have our own time too as that’s important, but I much prefer being in her company. She has, at times, carried me through the past couple of years, and I’d be utterly lost without her. And now I think, so what if she’s a female; I love her and she loves me and we are happy together. It’s taken a good few months for me to be able to finally tell the world we’re together, because of my fears of what other people would think mostly. But in all honesty, our happiness is much more important, and I don’t want our relationship to be a secret anymore. She is my world, she makes me laugh, I feel safe with her, she treats me as an equal; all the things I’ve never had in previous relationships.

You genuinely just cannot help who you fall for. Love came along when I least expected it, and has brought me a long way in my recovery from mental illness. I don’t think anyone needs to be out looking for ‘the one’, I think they’ll find you one day when the time is right for both of you!