Coma

Hi hi, Andy here again, this time I brought you with my partner shadow **Suicidal Thoughts** for this week in my journal, no body would care if I would disappear or crashed my car and get myself in a coma for example, in this case my very favorite demon #Anxiety and I were talking about my mom get frustrated with me and not being sufficient with nothing in my life and professional and said: you have to go and never go back to this house again and then all the crash accident happened and then the coma. Some people took me to a hospital and then call my emergency contact which was ex boyfriend who lives in Spain and took am airplain came back and took care of me and everything.
And the I woke up…
Start crying and tremble like a panic attack and remember that maybe I’m all by my self and that I don’t deserve to be here

Part 1 of 2 Congenital heart defects are the most common birth defect in humans, affecting 1% of the world’s population. In the United States alone, 40,000 babies are born with CHD every year.1. Of those babies, about 25% will have a critical CHD, requiring surgery in the first year of life. There is no cure.

In the last few decades, advances in surgical techniques and research mean that today, about 95% of those born with non-critical CHD and 69% of those born with critical CHD will live to see adulthood. Those medical advances were largely in the pediatric space and focused heavily on survival.

In recent years, estimates show that over 1.4 million adults are living with CHD in our country. But for this population, the U.S. medical system is woefully underprepared to treat them. You may have seen stories from actors, politicians, or athletes living with CHD who seem to have no issues receiving appropriate care, but what about everyone else?

Meet Julie, a 53-year-old woman living with critical congenital heart defects. She is a daughter, twin sister, and loving mother. Julie has miraculously outlived every grim prediction doctors made in her early childhood, despite the odds being overwhelmingly stacked against her.

For babies like Julie, born with congenital heart defects between 1970-1974, the biggest hurdle was surviving the first year of life. If they did reach their first birthday, the chances of surviving to adulthood were just 77-83%.

Heart surgery on infants did not become commonplace in the United States until the early 1970s. After a year of infant CHD surgery at Boston Children’s Hospital in 1972, surgeons had some data to work with. They realized that babies with critical CHD who died generally did so in the first few weeks of life. The rest of that decade saw a shift from surgery in infancy to surgery in the newborn period for these babies, with the first successful procedure coming in 1983 on an 11-day-old.

Julie had her first open-heart surgery at the age of 5 1/2 in 1976. Her childhood was filled with summer vacations, school, birthdays, and lots of visits to the pediatric cardiologist. Because there were no specialists for adults with congenital heart defects until 2015, Julie continued to see her pediatric cardiologist as an adult. Her heart remained stable until her mid-20s.

In 1995, at age 25, Julie gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Researchers had barely begun to study adults with CHD and no one told Julie she should have additional cardiac care and monitoring during pregnancy (probably because they didn’t know yet). Standards of care for adults with CHD were not issued until 2008 with the next update coming in 2018.

After the birth of her daughter, Julie’s heart really struggled. By age 26, in 1996, she was back in the hospital for her second open-heart surgery. There was no road map for Julie’s medical team to follow and they were dealing with a long list of heart-related issues in her body. Not to mention, Julie lived in Nevada, where the healthcare system could barely serve its healthy population.

The surgery did not go as planned and took far longer than anticipated. As the procedure entered its seventh hour, extensive bleeding and the length of time on the bypass machine forced the surgeons to place Julie into a coma, with an open chest. She wouldn’t wake up for almost two weeks.

What happened during her 13-day coma is largely unknown. Medical records were not easy to access, and communication from doctors to family members was limited. Julie woke from the coma completely paralyzed on her right side, unable to hold, feed, or care for her young daughter. She didn’t know it at the time, but this would be a turning point for her health.

Facing yet another uphill battle in her young life, Julie persevered and recovered function on her right side with months of intensive therapies. She would go on living life, raising her daughter, and continuing to follow up with her pediatric cardiologist.

As she aged, additional health conditions arose and everyday tasks became more difficult. Julie could feel that something was happening in her body, but unfortunately, Nevada still did not have any adult CHD specialists that could investigate. Despite the herculean efforts of her pediatric cardiologists, Julie declined into heart failure and would require a full evaluation by a specialized adult CHD center.

The team at UCLA’s Adult Congenital Heart Disease Center confirmed Julie’s heart failure diagnosis, but she was blindsided by the severity of her disease. Without knowing they even existed, Julie never had the chance to use the ACHD care standards for her anatomy, and was now looking at evaluation for a heart transplant.

If Julie’s life were a feature film, it

I am new. I have a seizure risk since May 2014 from cranitomy. I have never had a seizure. I am on 1 anti epileptic medication. I also follow PTSD forums here. I had bacterial meningitis of my brain from chronic sinusitis and access left temporal lobe. I almost died. I was incubated in a medically induced coma septic multi organ failure. I had to relearn everything.
#Epilepsy

One of my childhood friends passed in 2019 at the age of 26 from slipping into a diabetic coma in his sleep.
My relationship with this friend was complicated by the feelings involved between us. I fell in love with him at one point. I never did find out how he felt about me. I was too afriad to ask him out. Every year around the aniversary of his death. I contemplate our past. The things that we said to one another and just the horrible things I did as a scorned teenager. I loved this boy. And I changed a lot of the things about myself to align with his tastes and likes. I quit liking country music and embraced rock and roll. I listened to Three Days Grace, Breaking Benjamin, Disturbed and countless other bands of the early 2000’s. I started watching anime, dressing and styling my hair to become more Emo because his sister told me that was what he liked.
We got into a fight once because I started going out woth a guy he didn’t like and he told me that I was fat and ugly. He said that I had a mustache and I was too “manly” looking.
On one level it broke myself esteme. It seems pretty stupid to me now, a 14 year old girl taking value in what a 15 year old boy had to say.
And taking those things to heart.
I was angry throughout my teens. I hated myself. I hated how I never fit in in highschool. I hated that my best friends found other friends that they got along better with. I hated that I had emotional walls put up between me and everyone else. I hated that I would never be asked out by anyone. I hated that I was always angry.
I got to university and I did a completly different experience. I went to a small liberal arts University and discovered so much about myself. I was allowed to blossom and become who I was on the inside. I was allowed to experiment with my sexuality, the way I dressed, and my art. It was probably one of the most liberating experiences of my life.
Inside though I struggled with my self-worth. I drank pretty hard and had unprotected sex with so many people.
I did eventually get the help I needed.
When my friend died, it was painful. There was the inital grieving, sadness and loss.
But in the years after, I endured another transformation of the mind. I’m almost 30 and I’m finally learning to say “f*** what everyone else thinks I should be doing”. I’m settling in to farming and raising cattle. I’m doing what I want to do.
Not what someone tells me to do. I guess what the moral of my ramblings is that don’t ever comprimise on yourself. Find space To Be yourself.

When I was 16 I had begun my first episode of severe food poisoning that would go on to change the bacterial climate of my stomach for the next four and a half years (present day). I had been misdiagnosed with panic disorder prior to my first of many er visits (which inadvertently lead to me developing the disorder), and have seen every doctor you can imagine, save these important few: neurologist, gynecologist, and cardiologist— all of those which I urgently needed to see and still haven’t yet seen. I’ve been laughed at by multiple doctors and told that everything is in my head (I would insist I didn’t feel well), and my pcp at the time (when I was 15) even motioned to my mother that I was crazy (they would then go on to refer me to a gastroenterologist a year later at my discretion after telling me I didn’t need to see one. Since I have been diagnosed with these stomach conditions: esophagitis, GERD, hiatal hernia, ibs-c and abnormal stomach lining and mucusa). Nowadays my blood pressure is constantly skyrocketing or at it’s lowest points (was diagnosed with orthostatic hypotension, neuropathy, chronic migraine and insomnia when I’m convinced it’s also POTS and even more). My body is constantly in fight or flight mode and has been for all those years because I still live with these conditions and my family). It’s now to where, when I move too quickly or stand my chest feels like it’s going to pop (I become short of breath and black out for moments at a time). I’m not on any medication, and I feel like death is approaching (my sister has EDS, POTS, dysautonomia and Lupus and wasn’t diagnosed til she moved out..). My mother laughed at me when the doctors said I was fine at 15 because she too is a medical professional, a nurse. But that day I learned she was something more: a narcissist. She always tells me im ruining her life and her status because my hospital bills are so massive and I beg her to check up on me which she has never done and refuses to do (she also cannot afford to take me to anymore doctors). I have been really suicidal lately because of this too though I haven’t acted because im too afraid. I can’t work a job, no place will hire me (also have ocd and mdd) and most days I feel like im going to go into a coma or die. I’m not able to sleep or eat much and my blood pressure is always spiraling. I feel like I’ve really ruined all my chances at recovery and there’s no hope left for me. I tried living with my sister and it improved my physical condition so much, but she kicked me out because she found out I am lesbian and cursed me, which lead to me getting my laptop phone and tablet stolen (my things were left out on the street)—ultimately landing me back in my parents’ house (which mom still threatens to kick me out of, somehow). For the longest time I have been wanting to make a GoFundMe and share my story on TikTok despite my lack of friends, but as God would have it, I see someone with a similar story to me, my age abd racial background (only difference is their lack of physical abuse and a genetic stomach condition). That person raised enough money to make a living and secure a job. On the other hand I just feel like im just going to die whether by my hand or my body’s. I blame my lack of success on my poor looks, my ideation, my autism and mental illnesss, and my body—all of which I hate. Right now as I’m typing this, my room is piled high with trash and I can’t walk. My mom constantly complains that everyone gets depressed but I’m just disgusting and I’m faking being sick to burden her financially. As of today, she recently threw me against a wall after I blacked out again. I also keep having pain at night that worsens when I move my chest. I’m also afraid of eating because of the pain it causes. I feel done for. And before I get told to call for an ambulance, I can’t afford it and the paramedics have been to my house around 3 times before to admit me (and two of those times were calls from my friends over my poorly hidden suicide attempts). I also saw an express clinic doctor (er was full everyone has been waiting 12 hours) as recent as three weeks ago for labored breathing and coughing as well that told me I likely had a respiratory infection but to also see a neurologist and cardiologist (numbers were high). Now on the other hand, the paramedics I saw told me if they see me again they will put me in long-term psychiatric care (I was in it before for a week and I was verbally abused and neglected by doctors and Christian conversion therapists). The reputation of the mental facility is the worst in my state and I just can’t do it. I have no hope. I wish I wasn’t so afraid to die.

On oct 5 2018 I was shot 4 times by some guy I had never met I chose not to leave the place I was at I was asked to go there come to find out I was set up to die be abuse of a scared girl that used manipulation and deciet to gain favoritism and finacial support anyway I was in a coma for a month long story short I was only there to take her money like she asked I thought I was protecting her when the gun came out three years prior the same thing happened he held her against st her will for three days I was just informed of this 2 days prior on oct 3 also she never said a word but on her police statement she said she told me to leave repeatedly I even asked her when he showed me the gun and stated leave I replied only if she says to I looked at her and said do you want me to leave because I will never come back anyway I woke deformed missing part of my liver part of my lungs my spleen removed I lost any self respect all self worth I never really had any to start with but her gift was making me feel like I mattered and because of this and how great it felt I built a company in 6 months that was making so much money it didn't seem real there's so much more I woke up confused I couldn't walk eat drink think so I did what I always did accepted the blame because I didn't remember I mean the sheriff blamed me for the simple reason he was responcible for the budget of the county and in his eyes I didn't deserve any help if he only knew how close I was to holding him accountable im done for.now good night

How could love when when the mirror holds no value
How can you connect when the fear tells you to push away
You have searched your hole life for this feeling of connection but you failed to learn the most basic fundamentals all of it must start with reflection
Have you ever took the time to look at your on reflection to get to know the one that stairs back your direction
Maybe when you brush your hair did you notice yourself did you feel a connection
Or when you brushed your teeth no I always look the other direction .
No wonder I'm so broken Iv never taken the time to connect with my self I don't even know you a stranger is my reflection for 50 years iv lived in shame its starting to catch up How the shame turns to blame first I blamed everyone else but the odds always explained it can't be when the odd one is always me soldier up little man there's no set path there is no fam you threw that away to nieve to understand the feeling of worthlessness as your knowledge cut threw the critical criticism was understood the shame I carry was handed down all I did was meet the expectation accepted the decree that was layed before me no I didn't chose it it chose me and before I could understand I was devoured like my father before me .The pain I cause the ones that ment most to me the shame I allowed to over rule every part me AND I realize God sacrificed his beautiful Son so we all could be free but my sin was so vile even I have to hate me only one rule that matters so much to me never ever let my pain fall on another its mine to bare only me .My choices were mine I chose this path I chose to believe but what iv learned ,what this life has taught me is love is a weakness it will always decieve the more you give the less you recieve. I CHOSE TO CARE my heart screams it at me is it because I never found any value none I could see as my eyes cross paths with my reflection as it looked back at me.
It's kind of dark these words I speak but my GOAL IS TRUST IN JESUS BECAUSE IM MOST DEFINITELY A JESUS FREAK .WHAT HAS CAUSED ME TO BELIEVE MAYBE IT WAS ALL THE THINGS IV BEEN THRUE ALL I KNOW IS HE WAS RIGHT THERE WALKING WITH ME AND WHEN I WAS TO TIRED READY TO GIVE UP READY TO DELETE ME ALL THE WIEGHT WAS LIFTED MY FATHER WAS CARRYING ME IF I TRYED TO EXPLAIN YOU WOULD CONSIDER ME INSANE IF I TOLD YOU THE TRUTH WHAT JESUS HAS PROCLAIMED TO ME
YOU WOULD CONSIDER IT SCIENCE FICTION YOU WANT EVEN BELIEVE IT WHEN IT HAPPENS TO YOU WHY WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT JUST CAUSE I SAID IT HAPPENED TO ME . SHOT FOUR TIMES WHAT A FOOL I MUST BE I BELUEVED WHAT YOU SAID I THOUGHT I FINALLY FOUND SOMEONE THAT TRULLY LOVED ME YOU CONSIDERED IT ALL A GAME I WAS IN A COMA FOR A MONTH I CANT EVEN EXPLAIN THE THINGS I WAS FORCED TO SEE, YOU LIED TO THE LAW SO THEY WOULD CONDEMN ME THE SAD PART IS YOU WERE RIGHT I ALLOWED YOU TO TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME ITS MAKING ME STRONG AS LONG AS THE SELF PITY DOESNT OVERWHELM ME THE HARDEST PART IS FINDING A REASON
IM TIRED OF THE REASON BEING ME MY BIGGEST PROBLEM IS EASY TO SEE JUST LOOK HOW MANY TIMES I SAID THE WORD" ME " IF IV LEARNED NOTHING ELSE THERES A TRUTH THAT STUCK WITH ME THE MORE YOU ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE A VICTIM THE MORE OF A VICTIM YOU WILL BE GET OVER IT NOONE CARES STAY CLOSE TO GOD AFTER ALL HE IS THE ONLY ONE THAT WAS EVER REALLY THERE , I CONSIDER THIS PLACE THE PLACE THAT I MUST SUFFER I SURE HOPE THE LORD THY GOD HAS GRACE FOR ME I KNOW IM NOT DESERVING HOW COULD ANY OF US BE

Hi, my name is rAdiant_1963. I'm here because

#MightyTogether #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Migraine #Fibromyalgia #PTSD #Grief #Coma #Colitis #Epilepsy #TraumaticBrainInjury #Arthritis #chronic

I am a survivor of #Suicide . I live with the guilt every. damn. day. So why tell my story now? I want to feel liberated. I want to #EndTheStigma . And I want people to know why and how and when. So that maybe they can see the signs or the #triggers for someone they love who might be struggling.

This is me. This is my story. And this is me at my most vulnerable.

First, an introduction. I’m a 36-year-old, former PR pro turned #sahm and housewife. I struggle with #Depression and extreme #Anxiety . I’m #neurodivergent , you’ll quickly come to realize just how #ADHD I really am, and I’ve recently been diagnosed with #borderlinepersonality disorder.

So that's me. Definitely not a princess and I don't wear a cape. I'm still hopeful for a happily ever after, though.

And now, some context.

It's important to understand that I've felt unlovable all of my life. Growing up in a traumatic home and seeing more hate than love had its toll on me. And being emotionally abused and neglected as a child and having it continued through my adulthood continually makes me feel unworthy of love. Despite my efforts to be the best daughter I can possibly be, I get constant reminders of my selfishness. My unhelpfulness. My failures. It's just facts. I'm in therapy, don't worry.

It wasn't until I met my husband at 19 years old that I experienced unconditional love from someone other than my brother, my grandparents (RIP), and my pets. To this day, I still don't believe it or understand it. I'm hard to love and I don't grasp how someone can love all of me - with everything that comes with me. Skeletons and all. I still don't love myself. I'm in therapy, don't worry ;-)

Ok, now for the story.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: depression, suicide, self-harm, self-hate.

It was the morning of Monday, November 18, 2019. I had suffered a weeklong streak of migraines and hadn't left our bed in almost as long. I was depressed, and I was well off meds because I couldn't keep food or water down. I was exhausted and hopeless. At the time, I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, #Insomnia , and ADHD. I was in a complete state of psychosis. I had no idea and neither did my husband.

In the most loving way possible, my husband was over my sickness and depression. He'd been single parenting our 4-year-old for over a week, and he needed his wife back. We fought. About what, I can't remember. It doesn't matter but whatever it was sent me into a downward spiral I couldn't climb out of.

This is where everything gets foggy, or completely dark. My mind has blocked most if not all of the rest.

Like a zombie (or so I'm told), I got out of bed, threw on some scrubby clothes, got my son dressed and fed, and walked him over to the neighbor's house for childcare that day. I don't remember any of that part, at all. My hubby said my face was blank and my eyes were vacant.

In my brain, the wheels were already turning. This was a feeling I was intimately familiar with. My comfort blanket. How many different ways could I imagine dying this time? If only I could just disappear and not come back. It would be so easy. So simple. No one would miss me. I'm a burden to so many. They're basically living without me already.

After dropping my son off at daycare, I returned to bed. Hubby had more words with me before leaving for work. After he was gone, I googled, "How much Xanax does it take to kill yourself?" and "Can you die from too many muscle relaxers?"

Five minutes later, I swallowed my entire prescription: 30 tablets of 2mg #Xanax .

As a topper, I also poured 15 muscle relaxers down my throat, left over from my car accident in early April. Or was it from my wisdom tooth removal? So many procedures and pain meds and illicit prescriptions to choose from. I then ditched the bottles to make it harder for the EMTs to identify what I'd taken. I'd planned this meticulously in my mind for years.

I sat forward and said my goodbyes to the dogs. The longest goodbye and cries for Duke, of course. Kisses for Cooper; he couldn't understand what was happening, but Duke was completely aware. Duke jumped on the bed and put his head in my lap. I cried as I said my goodbyes out loud to my son (as if he could hear me from afar), reassuring him that his life would be full of joy and accomplishments without the burden of his overweight, depressed, mess of a mom. I'd be there in spirit, I said. Watching him succeed and rooting him on, always. I cried and wished that my husband would find new love and hope. That all his dreams and wishes would come true. That life would be good for him because he is an amazing man that deserves the world.

I drifted off.

When I awoke two days later I was hooked up to machines from my neck and both wrists. My husband was right by my side and my brother came into view.

I remember thinking, "Fuck, how the FUCK am I still here?!"

So here's what I'm told.

After hubby left for work, he ran a few errands close to home. Before getting on the freeway, however, he got a *weird feeling* in his gut and decided to backtrack home to check on me before heading into Seattle for work. Thank god he did. He saved my life and he will forever be my hero.

When my husband arrived home, he called out for me. Nothing.

He found me upstairs, unconscious and blue in the face. I was halfway fallen off the bed.

He called 911 and immediately started CPR at the operator's direction.

It was six long minutes before paramedics arrived.

They couldn't identify what I'd taken and were unsure if Narcan should be used for overdose.

My heart had stopped. I wasn't breathing.

It took nearly 8 minutes for them to get a heartbeat.

With a faint heartbeat, I was quickly transferred to the ambulance and rushed to NW Hospital in North Seattle. After life-saving measures were taken, I'm told that doctors placed me in an induced coma to allow my organs to heal and regain strength after shutting down. I was on a ventilator to support my lungs, and another machine to pump my heart. Once the doctors took me out of the coma, they slowly removed me from the heart machine as I grew stronger. The ventilator came next. I finally awoke.

What's happened next? You'll have to follow my next posts to read more.

#MentalHealthAwareness #MentalHealth #SuicidePrevention #depressionsucks

#BrainInjury
My sister was hit by a Toyota Tundra inside of a crosswalk at low speed. She was just knocked to the ground. She must have hit her head just right because she has a severe TBI with skull fracture. I am in WA state and she is in SO California. This happened 2 weeks ago. I will be going to see her next week. My brother in law told me that they are slowly weaning her off of the fentynal in order to do a neurological assessment. I am here for support and to learn all I can about these types of injuries. #BrainInjury #TraumaticBrainDisorder #Coma #inducedcoma #MedicalTrauma