Ash
What dreams may come?
- Oct 4, 2021
- 1,758
(Context: I've got BPD/EUPD so the fear of rejection or being left out is never far from the surface.)
For various reasons, I've been self-harming a lot over the last few months and the cuts are numerous and deep. I was patching them up myself but then consented to go to A&E several times as they were bleeding very heavily and I couldn't hide them. Then one arm got infected so I had to see the Orthopedic department. After a lot of toing and froing, the care of my wounds was then transferred to a local district hospital, which suits me down to the ground and it's smaller, quieter and closer to home than the big hospitals. So far, so good. But now the small hospital are saying my continued, severe SH is too much for them to manage, and tried to get my GP surgery to take over the care. They refused and have passed it back to the small hospital saying that they need to get the big hospital to take me back.
I've got so many scars that I'm not worried about stitches or it looking pretty (actually, the ugliest scar is from one deep slash that the orthopedic doctor left gaping and didn't even steristrip
) and I know my body well enough to spot signs of infection so the idea of going to the big hospital every time I cut or need the dressing changed is - from my point of view - a waste of time, fuel and money as while I may be a screw up, I'm excellent at first aid. But of course now I'm the system, all the nurses are lovely and kind and genuinely concerned and stress trying to get me some help and it's the senior managers who are "not my department" but don't want me to look after myself. It's the being passed from pillar to post that I'm struggling to deal with, on top of everything that's already going on.
Oh, and they (managers, again) also said that my BPD puts me at risk of becoming too dependent on services when I'm the one who keeps trying to say I can take responsibility for my own (pun not intended) bloody cuts.
Urgh. If only someone had mentioned bureaucracy as a reason to never pick up a blade.
(I had a much pithier version of this written in my head but it vanished as soon as I started typing.)
For various reasons, I've been self-harming a lot over the last few months and the cuts are numerous and deep. I was patching them up myself but then consented to go to A&E several times as they were bleeding very heavily and I couldn't hide them. Then one arm got infected so I had to see the Orthopedic department. After a lot of toing and froing, the care of my wounds was then transferred to a local district hospital, which suits me down to the ground and it's smaller, quieter and closer to home than the big hospitals. So far, so good. But now the small hospital are saying my continued, severe SH is too much for them to manage, and tried to get my GP surgery to take over the care. They refused and have passed it back to the small hospital saying that they need to get the big hospital to take me back.
I've got so many scars that I'm not worried about stitches or it looking pretty (actually, the ugliest scar is from one deep slash that the orthopedic doctor left gaping and didn't even steristrip
) and I know my body well enough to spot signs of infection so the idea of going to the big hospital every time I cut or need the dressing changed is - from my point of view - a waste of time, fuel and money as while I may be a screw up, I'm excellent at first aid. But of course now I'm the system, all the nurses are lovely and kind and genuinely concerned and stress trying to get me some help and it's the senior managers who are "not my department" but don't want me to look after myself. It's the being passed from pillar to post that I'm struggling to deal with, on top of everything that's already going on. Oh, and they (managers, again) also said that my BPD puts me at risk of becoming too dependent on services when I'm the one who keeps trying to say I can take responsibility for my own (pun not intended) bloody cuts.
Urgh. If only someone had mentioned bureaucracy as a reason to never pick up a blade.
(I had a much pithier version of this written in my head but it vanished as soon as I started typing.)
