This morning was my first ‘ward meeting’,
and I had been warned about it, but clearly was still unprepared.
Ten people, a registrar, two medical
students, two house doctors, my nurse, a social worker, all sitting with folders
and staring at me and my little family as I’m forced to discuss my week, my
thoughts, and disclose all the many side effects I am experiencing from this
apparent drug trial I am on.
Nausea, fatigue, fogginess, forgetfulness, dizziness,
diarrhea, re-lactation – relactation? Really? Cue blood test. Waiting. Probable
medication change. Start again.
Afterwards I am so overwhelmed that I start
to cry and feel the all-to-familiar darkness coming back for another go.
We take Bean to the park, and put her in
the swings and go down the slide. Her funny half giggles, the fresh autumn air
and the cool sunlight push the black away, just for a little while.
I’ve decided that whoever writes the menus
here (which we must mark off a week in advance), must be a former real estate
agent. Hired to transform soggy food into fresh, vibrant ideas, so that we are
fooled into believing we actually have a choice.
Yesterday, I chose ‘Satay Chicken on a bed
of rice with seasonal vegetables’. I received a plate of white meat, in an
equally pale sauce, speckled with red flakes and a slightly orange tinge. It
tasted how it looked, there was definitely no satay. The seasonal vegetables
are apparently code for frozen mixed veges and suspiciously phallic kumara.
I’ve only wanted to kill myself twice
today.
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