Well, going back tomarrow to home, my apartment at least. I decided to go in.
Hope this helps me clear my head, and very nervous about it.
Write more once i'm done. Take care all.
Well the in-patient time was a good idea, but all it cured me of would be the idealism that goverment health care might have its perks. ><
I met the therapist once, and the social worker twice, and the second time was to discharge me. There ongoing care advice? More out-patient therapy, so in the end all I did was become miserable for 3 days. Could be worse, but on a bright note I now have plenty of material for standup at one of the local queer-firendly bars.
For instence, when asked what my medications were for, and after I had alredy informed her that I was TG, I swear she looked me straight in the eyes and asked:
Therapist: "You know the side affects right?"
Me: "what do you mean"
Therapist: "That they can cause breast cancer and breast growth?"
Me: "...Oh so THAT'S the problem! Here I thought they were supposed to make me bigger!" I swear without missing a beat she said.
Therapist: "You probably should talk to your doctor about that."
What was even worse was what happened the second night, I couldn't sleep at all, and was hoping to get a sleeping pill. The nurse refused and after a heated 5 minuite argument finally called the doctor on call that was in the building. I know my doctor hadn't ordered any sleeping pills but they were over the counter variety, not prescription dose.
So the doctor on call comes up and informs me that he is unable to prescribe out sleepers or narcotics. He then informed me that if I continued to break the rules and not go back to bed would have to be chemically restrained to prevent any resistence. I asked him what the chemical restraint was and he said it was a narcotic.
At this point I looked at him funny. I asked why would he give me a narcotic restraint, that would help me sleep, when he could not give out a sleeping pill. He said that was how it worked, which I then asked him if I could get the shot instead. Now things get surreal.
Doc: You have to be violent to be restrained.
Me: So you can't give me the shot unless I hit someone?
Doc: Yes
me: Well, I don't want to hurt anyone, can we just report it that I hit someone?
Doc: No, that would be unethical.
Me: ...you can't give out a sleeping pill or narcotic, and you are sitting here saying the only way for me to get sleep tonight is for me to physicaly hit someone, and we are arguing over ethics?
Doc: Sorry, but that is the rules.
Me: So, the ONLY way for me to get this shot, this NARCOTIC shot, is for me to physically injure a nearby person?
Doc: Yes
Please belieave me when I say that this was the most tempting therapy i've ever been offered. I mean the man was completly oblivious to the impending violence, or at least he acted like it. However as I wished to leave as soon as possible I restrained myself and simply did not get any sleep that night.
The staff also had frequent fights with me on what name to go by. I finally spelled it out to them that I would sign whatever official form they had with my legal name, as long as they would refer to me in speech by MY name. Which is an sexless name, not like my handle.
In the end, I survived, and am making an official report with my therapist in complaint of my treatment at the facility. We all thought it was a good idea for me to go in, but in the end... *shrugs*
Oh, and now it comes to me having to choose between halting my transition for four years and getting my degree in wyoming where i've been accepted into their teaching program, or trying to get accepted at a college here in chicago for the same. *shrugs* I'll figure it out as I go, I feel kinda free at the moment, kinda like I felt at the end of my discharge. But this time I know what general direction i'm sailing in.
Thanks to everyone for their concerns and well wishes. ^^
