Hospital at home

October 2nd, 2008

I came home this morning. At the moment I'm keeping safe by kind of kidding myself that I'm just in hospital at home, which I kind of am, except of course I'm not. My mood is basically nowhere, I'm pretty much disconnected, and couldn't tell you what I thought or felt about anything, especially the last few months.

Home has distinct advantages, it's true. Like I've just been sat on my chair watching hours of my pc. No more watching the majority choice. And my chair is comfortable, unlike the seats at the hospital which I think were chosen to *look* modern and welcoming and accessible without any consideration of what they were actually like to use. Bit like services themselves, then.

And I don't have to put up with other people's stinkiness. Madness smells, mostly. And my bay was right next to the toilets. Not pleasant.

But hospital was at least warm. I'm going to have to adapt to a much colder climate now. I'd forgotten just how cold my house is.

Also at hospital there was the joy that is PRN medication. Here I come to one of insanities of mental health care. In hospital you are basically trained to take medication when things get difficult. Nurses offer it whenever you struggle, and indeed I was encouraged to ask for it and praised when I did. Now I'm at home I have to manage without. Hence I have invested in a bottle of vodka. Strictly medicinal, of course. I'm currently trying to decide when is a respectable time to open it.