Stewing Over Ativan

what bothers me most about this recent overdose is that i don’t remember taking the pills. the other thing is the way the hospital handled my case. also, i was wrong about how many i took because when Brian told me what happened, he wasn’t counting the Ativan i took the night before. in a 12-hour period i consumed 26 mg., not 20 mg., which was what i originally thought.

my pdoc prescribed Ativan as a quick measure to combat anxiety attacks. last summer, with his knowledge, i also used it as a sleep aid. one pill does the trick in terms of calming me when i’m super anxious. however, it wasn’t always enough to make me sleepy, so sometimes i took two. last Friday night, i was sad, lonely, angry, and anxious, tired i’m sure, but not sleepy. three Ativan didn’t seem like such a big deal. i had no idea it would affect me the way it did.

in 1995, the first time i OD’d on Ativan, i swallowed 10 mg. all at once. it made me very sleepy, but i woke up the next morning and was able to call in sick to work. i finally got up late in the morning because i felt sick to my stomach. i called the pdoc’s (same one) office and told the receptionist what happened. in a panicked voice he instructed me to get to the ER right away. i called 911, but they would only send out a private ambulance that i don’t think would have been covered by insurance–they said i had to pay for it, maybe up front. according to the dispatcher, because i took the pills the night before, it wasn’t considered an emergency. i ended up taking a cab, was admitted for a few days, and can recall many of the details of that experience.

the second time was in 2002. as it was, i was under a lot of “normal” stress: completing my thesis; preparing for my defense; road trips to Columbus within two weeks of each other for the defense and graduation. i also sensed something strange in my parents’ relationship. i had this fear that one or the other of them would do something drastic, and later that year they divorced after 34 years of marriage. it would have been a tough time for anybody, but because of my frayed nerves, it was especially rough.

i don’t remember how many Ativan i took, but i know it wasn’t more than 10 mg. i remember the paramedics coming to get me; the ride to the hospital; my hospital bed parked in one of the ER’s corridors overnight while waiting to be transferred to the hospital where my doctor has privileges; working on a poem for my thesis on scraps of paper; ruining my favorite pajamas because my IV wasn’t inserted properly and i bled out. a lot.

for the past several days i’ve been trying to reconstruct what happened Saturday. i just can’t remember waking up that morning, going about my day as usual, and then suddenly taking a bunch of pills. i met with my therapist today and have been able to piece together the events of that day.

i do remember taking the last two pills, only because i swallowed them without any water, which Brian had taken away from me. shortly afterwards, the police and paramedics arrived, which i was really, really pissed about. i was very angry at Brian for calling 911 and about having to go to the hospital.

while he was in the bedroom talking to the cops, i went into the hallway to put on my shoes. instead of doing that, however, i kneed one of the paramedics in his crotch. i laugh about it in retrospect, but i also feel bad about what i did. i can only hope that it wasn’t a snap kick to the groin. i don’t think so because Brian said the guy wasn’t incapacitated but he was just as, if not more pissed than i was by that point. Brian said he behaved less professionally afterwards. Brian and the cops heard the commotion and came out to see what it was about, but they didn’t witness the…assault?

i have a faint memory of being manhandled by a paramedic and feeling that i was being violated, which made me even more pissed. they had to use restraints–strapped me down to the stretcher and bound my hands and feet. i know that i was trying to kick them away so they couldn’t tie me down or whatever it is they do. never did get my shoes on. Brian had to bring them to the hospital the next day.

by the time we got downstairs and into the ambulance, i was fine, according to the police. they thought that i probably didn’t remember what i had done, which i obviously didn’t/don’t.

it was only today that i learned about my violent reactions and the restraints. i noticed a large, rectangular bruise right above my wrist and put two and two together after my therapist told me that i kneed that guy.

this was the first time i was admitted to this particular hospital. i’ve been there maybe twice before for cutting, but i never had to stay. i can’t believe that they just discharged me the next day, especially with my history. although i was very glad to be going home, they should have had me transferred to my regular hospital. sure, i might still be in there right now, but i’d have more peace of mind.

i don’t know why i can’t remember most of this. if i did, particularly feeling very depressed on Saturday, maybe i wouldn’t have taken the pills in the first place and could have avoided this entire scene. not once did i feel like cutting, and i certainly wasn’t suicidal. before going to bed Friday night, i did dumped out the contents of Brian’s briefcase, which is a sign of borderline behavior in me. but even then it didn’t even occur to me to cut or anything like that.

the strange thing is that i honestly feel like nothing out of the ordinary happened last weekend, like none of this ever happened. well, maybe because i barely remember it, but i was certainly feeling the aftereffects on Monday. my brain felt fried. i had difficulty concentrating. in fact, i called the pdoc’s office yesterday to find out when my next appointment is (Monday), and i didn’t mention the incident because it completely slipped my mind. it doesn’t sit well with me.