YouTube - Afghan Jihad - Afghanistan
Pre 9/11 afganistan, Russia supports the halque regime with communist laws and the mugah hadine wanting islamic law (sharia law)
Wednesday 24 February 2010
Tuesday 23 February 2010
YouTube - Shariah Law - Islamic Justice
YouTube - Shariah Law - Islamic Justice
PLEASE VIEW WITH CAUTION THIS IS SHARIA/ISLAMIC LAW DO YOU WANT TO SWAP DEMOCRACY FOR IT?
PLEASE VIEW WITH CAUTION THIS IS SHARIA/ISLAMIC LAW DO YOU WANT TO SWAP DEMOCRACY FOR IT?
Saturday 20 February 2010
Jake n Me
February 21 at 5:04am
I saw you commented on my jake, my cosmic sunshine spiritual cat. With my cats i allowed myself accidentaly to love, something i dont do with people. Jake, duddley and drewpy were my boys. I was living with the person i met online, the person i went to New Zealand to live with, without ever having met the person face to face. They worked in the council office. It was an open plan office, they looked after alcohol licensing and geothermal and dangerous goods. Next to there section was animal control. Now NZ is still very tribal with the moaris and its modern head is that of drug dealing motocycle gangs. One day i was at home and already with 2 cats my partner rang and told me there was a very tiny ginger kitten that needed fostering. This kitten was so young and so small that it needed hand rearing with high calorie paste every 4 hours, the spca couldnt take him as he needed such care and if no home was found he would be euthinased. Ofcourse i said there was room at the inn and so jake was delivered. Hed been found in a drugs raid tiny, some 6 weeks old, chewing on dog roll food, he was being sick as the food was too rich for his baby system and he also had chronic tummy troubles for the same reasons. He was duley left with me. A tiny kitten, suringes of high calorie paste. Theres a new zealand film called once where warriors about the gang system in the maori culture, the lead charicture was "jake the muss" a violent repugnant man. But jake was a name i would have wished to name my child should i have been blessed so for many reasons jake was his name. I cleaned him with cotton wool and warm water......he fitted in the palm of my hand and every 4 hours i would put this paste, somewhat like marmite around his mouth then he would spend the next hour cleaning himself and the paste licking it off and hence nourishing himself. The days passed and every 4 hours, day and night the cycle happend. He started showing unusual behaviour very early. Every bath or shower i would take he would try at first but then succeed with growth to get in or sit on the side catching bubble or pawing at the jets. Slowly i noticed that every time i icked up my car keys he would rush to the door. With time he ventures outside and with the carkeys response he would bein the car so quick i couldnt catch him. With time we would go for dirves, he would sit on my headrest, leaning on my head progressing to the dashboard we he would watch the world pass, just sat there as happy as anydog ive seen. When he was older i got a job when i got my visa for residency sorted and upon my returning home he would always be at the door to greet me. Through times of illness when the nights are so long and lonley he would sit at my side, only leaving when one of my other boys would come as if to relieve him from his duty of care.
The week jake died, i got a phone call my grandma had passed . She was 94 and it was exspected, little grief was felt just gratitude shed lived such a wonderously long life happily. Then i went to work and my boss (an idiot) told us staff they'd gone bankcrupt and we had 4 hours left to work and dont bother comming back cos thats it. Then i returned home, a beautiful rural home 38 km's from the nearest settlement, somewhere i thought the dangers of cas and the joys of nature would heal me and my boys from the horrors of surburbia. Well i pulled into my drive and a man called bob called for me. The sparce amount of houses were mostly small rickerty holiday homes. Bob had dropped out of society, lived in a caravan, was self sufficient, a lovley man with a twinkle. I would fish and he would grow veggies and we would barter and talk about how wonderful not being part of modern life was. I digress. This day bob called for me, he came close, becond me to walk to his caravan and at the door there was a box. He aid i dont know how to say this sophie. I was well known ass the mad woman with the cat in the car. He pointed to the box and pulled back a cloth. I saw the glimpse of blond fur an i fell to my knees. He told me that about 1am a car had passed and hed heard a nose and in the morning he had found jake. He was perfect, no blood, no wounds just stiff with riiger mortis...i noise eminated from me....ive never made such a noise before or after....i brushed him for the final time.....i dug a hole........i could hardly see for tears and histeria...even as i write this i cry for this loss.....i burried him, my friend had come and they said a prayer and i told them to shut the fuck up that no god would do this to me all in one week......i placed a budda head over him so when i was sat at my desk i could see his resting place. That night a big storm passed over head, i couldnt sleep i had been crying for hours by then, as i lay i knew i must get close to jake, i thought of digging him up but didnt wish to desturb him so in this storm i went outside in my pj's and lay in the rain upon his grave.....i was there for about 30 mins....soaking wet...oblivious to the colds....the physical feelings drownded out by the emotional pain.....the reality of seperation.....i never thought i wold have to be parted from any of my cats and especialy jake....he was only 8......well it didnt take ong for my steroidal body and reduced immunity to turn with grief into pneumonia......i refused to leave my home to go to hospital...refused to leave my grave side vidual......eventualy i was so ill a visitor called for an ambulance and i was quickly back in intensive care.....but i didnt care.....and this journey of return to England and loosing everything occured......he died in march and by july i was back in england......and still to this day i sit broken hearted......some days i cant look at the slideshow bar showing me flashes of him....for jake was my cosmic sunshine spiritual cat....and that is that
I saw you commented on my jake, my cosmic sunshine spiritual cat. With my cats i allowed myself accidentaly to love, something i dont do with people. Jake, duddley and drewpy were my boys. I was living with the person i met online, the person i went to New Zealand to live with, without ever having met the person face to face. They worked in the council office. It was an open plan office, they looked after alcohol licensing and geothermal and dangerous goods. Next to there section was animal control. Now NZ is still very tribal with the moaris and its modern head is that of drug dealing motocycle gangs. One day i was at home and already with 2 cats my partner rang and told me there was a very tiny ginger kitten that needed fostering. This kitten was so young and so small that it needed hand rearing with high calorie paste every 4 hours, the spca couldnt take him as he needed such care and if no home was found he would be euthinased. Ofcourse i said there was room at the inn and so jake was delivered. Hed been found in a drugs raid tiny, some 6 weeks old, chewing on dog roll food, he was being sick as the food was too rich for his baby system and he also had chronic tummy troubles for the same reasons. He was duley left with me. A tiny kitten, suringes of high calorie paste. Theres a new zealand film called once where warriors about the gang system in the maori culture, the lead charicture was "jake the muss" a violent repugnant man. But jake was a name i would have wished to name my child should i have been blessed so for many reasons jake was his name. I cleaned him with cotton wool and warm water......he fitted in the palm of my hand and every 4 hours i would put this paste, somewhat like marmite around his mouth then he would spend the next hour cleaning himself and the paste licking it off and hence nourishing himself. The days passed and every 4 hours, day and night the cycle happend. He started showing unusual behaviour very early. Every bath or shower i would take he would try at first but then succeed with growth to get in or sit on the side catching bubble or pawing at the jets. Slowly i noticed that every time i icked up my car keys he would rush to the door. With time he ventures outside and with the carkeys response he would bein the car so quick i couldnt catch him. With time we would go for dirves, he would sit on my headrest, leaning on my head progressing to the dashboard we he would watch the world pass, just sat there as happy as anydog ive seen. When he was older i got a job when i got my visa for residency sorted and upon my returning home he would always be at the door to greet me. Through times of illness when the nights are so long and lonley he would sit at my side, only leaving when one of my other boys would come as if to relieve him from his duty of care.
The week jake died, i got a phone call my grandma had passed . She was 94 and it was exspected, little grief was felt just gratitude shed lived such a wonderously long life happily. Then i went to work and my boss (an idiot) told us staff they'd gone bankcrupt and we had 4 hours left to work and dont bother comming back cos thats it. Then i returned home, a beautiful rural home 38 km's from the nearest settlement, somewhere i thought the dangers of cas and the joys of nature would heal me and my boys from the horrors of surburbia. Well i pulled into my drive and a man called bob called for me. The sparce amount of houses were mostly small rickerty holiday homes. Bob had dropped out of society, lived in a caravan, was self sufficient, a lovley man with a twinkle. I would fish and he would grow veggies and we would barter and talk about how wonderful not being part of modern life was. I digress. This day bob called for me, he came close, becond me to walk to his caravan and at the door there was a box. He aid i dont know how to say this sophie. I was well known ass the mad woman with the cat in the car. He pointed to the box and pulled back a cloth. I saw the glimpse of blond fur an i fell to my knees. He told me that about 1am a car had passed and hed heard a nose and in the morning he had found jake. He was perfect, no blood, no wounds just stiff with riiger mortis...i noise eminated from me....ive never made such a noise before or after....i brushed him for the final time.....i dug a hole........i could hardly see for tears and histeria...even as i write this i cry for this loss.....i burried him, my friend had come and they said a prayer and i told them to shut the fuck up that no god would do this to me all in one week......i placed a budda head over him so when i was sat at my desk i could see his resting place. That night a big storm passed over head, i couldnt sleep i had been crying for hours by then, as i lay i knew i must get close to jake, i thought of digging him up but didnt wish to desturb him so in this storm i went outside in my pj's and lay in the rain upon his grave.....i was there for about 30 mins....soaking wet...oblivious to the colds....the physical feelings drownded out by the emotional pain.....the reality of seperation.....i never thought i wold have to be parted from any of my cats and especialy jake....he was only 8......well it didnt take ong for my steroidal body and reduced immunity to turn with grief into pneumonia......i refused to leave my home to go to hospital...refused to leave my grave side vidual......eventualy i was so ill a visitor called for an ambulance and i was quickly back in intensive care.....but i didnt care.....and this journey of return to England and loosing everything occured......he died in march and by july i was back in england......and still to this day i sit broken hearted......some days i cant look at the slideshow bar showing me flashes of him....for jake was my cosmic sunshine spiritual cat....and that is that
Friday 19 February 2010
My art is a passed passion
Sophie Hudson there is something special about being a chef, my families busness was hotels and resteraunts. My first real memory was being in a high chair making jam tarts with betty the baker who my family employed. My dad on picking her up and taking her home would let me sit on his knee and steer the car down her long farm drive.
some have called my ... See Morecooking art ....and ive reached heady hights in this modern day rock n roll craft.....to cook for a person and see there eyes shine upon the visual of your making, there noses overwhelmed with complex message and then light there tastebuds with crafted artistry is of personal joy and passion and hardearnt technique. For my canvas is a plate and my art must be presented daily and its consumed in half the time its taken to make. My art is masticated, swallowed and assimilated into the buyer....my art nourishes the soul from the inside outwards.....In New Zealand my maori customers would say " aroha (love) in every bite" for they understood that i put all my essence and spirit into ever ounce of produce.
Allas this dog has had her day, and my method of communication has changed......i no longer have an adoring public to shout encour in the theatre which is hospitality......now i paint with words and my canvas it this page.
some have called my ... See Morecooking art ....and ive reached heady hights in this modern day rock n roll craft.....to cook for a person and see there eyes shine upon the visual of your making, there noses overwhelmed with complex message and then light there tastebuds with crafted artistry is of personal joy and passion and hardearnt technique. For my canvas is a plate and my art must be presented daily and its consumed in half the time its taken to make. My art is masticated, swallowed and assimilated into the buyer....my art nourishes the soul from the inside outwards.....In New Zealand my maori customers would say " aroha (love) in every bite" for they understood that i put all my essence and spirit into ever ounce of produce.
Allas this dog has had her day, and my method of communication has changed......i no longer have an adoring public to shout encour in the theatre which is hospitality......now i paint with words and my canvas it this page.
Thursday 18 February 2010
Xolaire day and the complication of hospital induced ptsd
I really dont feel like writting today. Normaly when i write its in a freeflowing state, the thoughts just flow onto the page via the keys without pushing. Today is not a day like that. This equates to this piece of my blog feeling a little contrived. I think its because i had to be exsposed to a ptsd trigger yesterday and my natural way of coping is to shut down and log off cerebraly.
SO,
this xolair is about 270 english pounds per injection. Its an anti IGe drug. IGe is a biological signaling molecule which is part of the allergic cascade which finishes with the production of histamine. Im sure you will all have seen or take anti-histamines when your body has been exsposed to an allegen (particle wich your allegic to). Being back in england allows me the priverlage of being under the wing of the NHS which means i dont have to pay to have the opportunity to trial it. Before i go on i will say that the NHS is not some glowing saintly thing, i am on lots of waiting lists for help, the doctors have little time to deal with my holistic care but its always free at the point of delivery and for this im very grateful. In New Zealand i had to pay to see the doc, pay for my meds but not emmergency hospital care.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder induced by the trauma of emmergency medical care (this care not being one off but many many times). Emmergency life saving treatment for asthma so severe it ends in respiratory arrest and the need of resucitation and adrenaline and/or the placement of myself onto mechanical ventilation although for the right reasons is a brutal thing. To be in a state of hypoxia (low blood oxygen level) is an amazing feeling and the closer you get to death the more comfortable death is. I am not frightend of death quite the opposite although im not ready for it right this second, its the journey to that destination which worries me.
The ptsd means that in any medical environment, even talking on the phone to anyone medical iduces rapid onset of accute symptoms which are underplayed by everyone but my dad. Hes been at myside supporting me through the last 12 months and he see's how i am normaly and the rapid change of sophie within the environment. I know its not them.....i just know its me...the person i become is an antethesis of who i actualy am. I become hypervidulant/hyperaroused...dry mouth, tingling in my lips and fingers, heart in my mouth, butterflies in my tummy, feeling i could be sick and paranoier and my personality so out there it induced scorn and judgment. To such a degree i deal with the perrils of my health when bad at home for fear of becomming that animal of primal actions....the fight or flight woman i am as cortisol and adrenaline mix in my system to make this pussycat into a rabid lion.
Anyway all this and my visit yesterday make me think of canceling this xolair, this life changing medication, my lat chance at physical freedom. For nothing more than not having to go to hospital every month for the rest of my life. I have medication now to help, the amiltryptaline, the valium....but even this mix of exotic chemicals isnt helping me much. The docs and nurses already poluted by my unmedicated personality.....i feel so misjudged....so judged.... the more i fight for the right treatment the more i piss those who care for me off. This ptsd is an unseen inury....i have no plaster, no bruising.....and those who help me have no wanting to understand. I cant not continue this xolair trial....i just cant...so i have to be put in an arena where i am discrimminated and raw.
On my return home yesterday post hospital i took an adissional 5mg of diazepan which allowed me to move through the feelings of being bad, dark and combative....and so exhausting was the emotional journey of yesterday that i slept for 12 hours which for a ptsd sufferer is a miracle....so that why going for treatment or help is so complext for me. Its box rational and irrational....so i wait for my next psychiatrist appointment and wait patiently on waiting lists and i keep taking the medication.....
I am a medical paradox.....and i care....oh how do i care and so it hurts deeply. No wonder i wish to hide away in reclusion....here im safe....not judged but my life stays stagnent....i pray for change....i pray for the waiting lists to allow me to get cognitive help.... In saving my life with emergency medicine they took my old life and i awoke with a different unwanted life.....and there attitude is i should be grateful to have survived and arnt we all good for saving you and look how you repay us....not with gratitude (although i am) but with this comabtive aggresive attitude....oh lord i wish that will power could overcome my feelings but after 27 years of this compounding each time into one massive life threatening problem i am at a loss. Its why the misdiagnosis of bipolar has caused me such damage...cos 8 years of that misdiagnosis could have been spent treating my real issue which is ICU/hospital induced ptsd and thats as simple as i can say it.
SO,
this xolair is about 270 english pounds per injection. Its an anti IGe drug. IGe is a biological signaling molecule which is part of the allergic cascade which finishes with the production of histamine. Im sure you will all have seen or take anti-histamines when your body has been exsposed to an allegen (particle wich your allegic to). Being back in england allows me the priverlage of being under the wing of the NHS which means i dont have to pay to have the opportunity to trial it. Before i go on i will say that the NHS is not some glowing saintly thing, i am on lots of waiting lists for help, the doctors have little time to deal with my holistic care but its always free at the point of delivery and for this im very grateful. In New Zealand i had to pay to see the doc, pay for my meds but not emmergency hospital care.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder induced by the trauma of emmergency medical care (this care not being one off but many many times). Emmergency life saving treatment for asthma so severe it ends in respiratory arrest and the need of resucitation and adrenaline and/or the placement of myself onto mechanical ventilation although for the right reasons is a brutal thing. To be in a state of hypoxia (low blood oxygen level) is an amazing feeling and the closer you get to death the more comfortable death is. I am not frightend of death quite the opposite although im not ready for it right this second, its the journey to that destination which worries me.
The ptsd means that in any medical environment, even talking on the phone to anyone medical iduces rapid onset of accute symptoms which are underplayed by everyone but my dad. Hes been at myside supporting me through the last 12 months and he see's how i am normaly and the rapid change of sophie within the environment. I know its not them.....i just know its me...the person i become is an antethesis of who i actualy am. I become hypervidulant/hyperaroused...dry mouth, tingling in my lips and fingers, heart in my mouth, butterflies in my tummy, feeling i could be sick and paranoier and my personality so out there it induced scorn and judgment. To such a degree i deal with the perrils of my health when bad at home for fear of becomming that animal of primal actions....the fight or flight woman i am as cortisol and adrenaline mix in my system to make this pussycat into a rabid lion.
Anyway all this and my visit yesterday make me think of canceling this xolair, this life changing medication, my lat chance at physical freedom. For nothing more than not having to go to hospital every month for the rest of my life. I have medication now to help, the amiltryptaline, the valium....but even this mix of exotic chemicals isnt helping me much. The docs and nurses already poluted by my unmedicated personality.....i feel so misjudged....so judged.... the more i fight for the right treatment the more i piss those who care for me off. This ptsd is an unseen inury....i have no plaster, no bruising.....and those who help me have no wanting to understand. I cant not continue this xolair trial....i just cant...so i have to be put in an arena where i am discrimminated and raw.
On my return home yesterday post hospital i took an adissional 5mg of diazepan which allowed me to move through the feelings of being bad, dark and combative....and so exhausting was the emotional journey of yesterday that i slept for 12 hours which for a ptsd sufferer is a miracle....so that why going for treatment or help is so complext for me. Its box rational and irrational....so i wait for my next psychiatrist appointment and wait patiently on waiting lists and i keep taking the medication.....
I am a medical paradox.....and i care....oh how do i care and so it hurts deeply. No wonder i wish to hide away in reclusion....here im safe....not judged but my life stays stagnent....i pray for change....i pray for the waiting lists to allow me to get cognitive help.... In saving my life with emergency medicine they took my old life and i awoke with a different unwanted life.....and there attitude is i should be grateful to have survived and arnt we all good for saving you and look how you repay us....not with gratitude (although i am) but with this comabtive aggresive attitude....oh lord i wish that will power could overcome my feelings but after 27 years of this compounding each time into one massive life threatening problem i am at a loss. Its why the misdiagnosis of bipolar has caused me such damage...cos 8 years of that misdiagnosis could have been spent treating my real issue which is ICU/hospital induced ptsd and thats as simple as i can say it.
Tuesday 16 February 2010
LiveLeak.com - Geert wilders film: The important points it missed
LiveLeak.com - Geert wilders film: The important points it missed
click the link and read this....if you value freedom of speach and democracy read it .....it will show where we are within political history.
click the link and read this....if you value freedom of speach and democracy read it .....it will show where we are within political history.
LiveLeak.com - Fitna the Movie (New Version 4-4-2008)
LiveLeak.com - Fitna the Movie (New Version 4-4-2008)
this is a must watch by anyone who values democracy, christianity and a peaceful ballanced world.....i urge you to take a few moments from your life to understand where we are politicaly in time. You thought the Nazi eugenics movement was bad??!!?? again i ask you to look, to open your eyes...any extreamism should not be tollerated in our society. Information is power so i offer you this to arm yourself.
this is a must watch by anyone who values democracy, christianity and a peaceful ballanced world.....i urge you to take a few moments from your life to understand where we are politicaly in time. You thought the Nazi eugenics movement was bad??!!?? again i ask you to look, to open your eyes...any extreamism should not be tollerated in our society. Information is power so i offer you this to arm yourself.
Friday 12 February 2010
YouTube - Lord Pearson warns on islamic colonisation of UK
YouTube - Lord Pearson warns on islamic colonisation of UK
Now firstly I need to spell out i dont agree with any extreamism, so i wouldnt and could never support the BNP. But here is an astute analysis of the true state of the British nation from a ballanced and unbiased point of view. Listen very closley to what is being said and i dare you not to be troubled with the finite end place of the thoughts you have. Surley at this point in British politics there is going to be a watershed of resignations due to MP's exspenses and the Chilcot enquirey stiring up disbelief in the middle land of Britain. We are counting the bodies as weekly there brought through the streets of Wooton Basset. This war of ours that never recieved a mandate by the UN and never found wepons of mass destruction. The power is still in the voters hands but we must take part in the process and not be so passive and trusting in those who say there have our best interests at heart. All i see is self serving interests and oil dependancy. In my mind Blair will always have blood on his hands. Dont get me wrong i support the troops with all my heart but my argument is there positioning on the wrong from. Defending the wrong lands, i have always said bring them home and secure our own borders. Being a terribly politicaly correct people the british fear to say anything for thought of offending others as they scream the racism card. But what about us who feel foreign in our own lands? Whos there to cry racism when were not allowed to fly the union jack for fear of upsetting minorities, when an Irish pub cant advertise its irish for fear of affending minorities and yet a polish hairdressers or supermarket can advertise there specialism, its all quite bizzare. Well trust me as a middle class white woman i feel like a minority in my country of birth. A backlash will come and i just pray it wont be one headed by the BNP but tell me just who represents me when i go to vote? My only choice is the LIberal Democrats.....half baked but well meaning....as we sit on the edge of bankcrupcy as a country and global power shifts to Asia ask yourself where this wonderful country of ours will be in 20 years? Is it right that we should push others to accept our ways in there own countries whilst at home the thought of sharia law is an oncomming reality. What is needed is a united push by all the people who feel as i do, and there are many but through fear we are stiffled with argument amongst ourselves or apathy at the situation. A situation that we cant even contemplate in full due to its size. And what amzes me is that a labour government has got us here....a labour government with conservative policies and now we have david cameron whos so centeral he could be mistaked for a right leaning labour man. So vote .....get out there and vote.....and i encourage you to vote liberal democrat....not because they have all the answers.....more out of protest that the 2 majour parties are not the way this country should go. I mean what exactly are the conservatives policies? And Gordon Browns about to sell of yet more assets such as the port of dover to help him fill the 16 billion budget deficit. Deary me. So i emplore you watch the video link and think really careful cos at the end of the day these people in power are our public servants and yet at presant they dont reflect those who voted for them. thank you for your time, all comments are welcome.
Now firstly I need to spell out i dont agree with any extreamism, so i wouldnt and could never support the BNP. But here is an astute analysis of the true state of the British nation from a ballanced and unbiased point of view. Listen very closley to what is being said and i dare you not to be troubled with the finite end place of the thoughts you have. Surley at this point in British politics there is going to be a watershed of resignations due to MP's exspenses and the Chilcot enquirey stiring up disbelief in the middle land of Britain. We are counting the bodies as weekly there brought through the streets of Wooton Basset. This war of ours that never recieved a mandate by the UN and never found wepons of mass destruction. The power is still in the voters hands but we must take part in the process and not be so passive and trusting in those who say there have our best interests at heart. All i see is self serving interests and oil dependancy. In my mind Blair will always have blood on his hands. Dont get me wrong i support the troops with all my heart but my argument is there positioning on the wrong from. Defending the wrong lands, i have always said bring them home and secure our own borders. Being a terribly politicaly correct people the british fear to say anything for thought of offending others as they scream the racism card. But what about us who feel foreign in our own lands? Whos there to cry racism when were not allowed to fly the union jack for fear of upsetting minorities, when an Irish pub cant advertise its irish for fear of affending minorities and yet a polish hairdressers or supermarket can advertise there specialism, its all quite bizzare. Well trust me as a middle class white woman i feel like a minority in my country of birth. A backlash will come and i just pray it wont be one headed by the BNP but tell me just who represents me when i go to vote? My only choice is the LIberal Democrats.....half baked but well meaning....as we sit on the edge of bankcrupcy as a country and global power shifts to Asia ask yourself where this wonderful country of ours will be in 20 years? Is it right that we should push others to accept our ways in there own countries whilst at home the thought of sharia law is an oncomming reality. What is needed is a united push by all the people who feel as i do, and there are many but through fear we are stiffled with argument amongst ourselves or apathy at the situation. A situation that we cant even contemplate in full due to its size. And what amzes me is that a labour government has got us here....a labour government with conservative policies and now we have david cameron whos so centeral he could be mistaked for a right leaning labour man. So vote .....get out there and vote.....and i encourage you to vote liberal democrat....not because they have all the answers.....more out of protest that the 2 majour parties are not the way this country should go. I mean what exactly are the conservatives policies? And Gordon Browns about to sell of yet more assets such as the port of dover to help him fill the 16 billion budget deficit. Deary me. So i emplore you watch the video link and think really careful cos at the end of the day these people in power are our public servants and yet at presant they dont reflect those who voted for them. thank you for your time, all comments are welcome.
Video: Alexander McQueen's last show at Paris Fashion Week - Telegraph
Video: Alexander McQueen's last show at Paris Fashion Week - Telegraph
Today im brought to thinking about what being British means to me. As i watch the politcians defend themselves whilst my generation watch the progress of an illegal oil driven war in a foreign land. Another 3 children being brought home in boxes via Wooten Basset this week and Gordon Brown is shown on national television being interviewed, a tear in his eye as he discusses the death of his first child. I wonder at what legnths these politicians will go to try and get the sympathy of the public, although we all know he isnt going to survive another general election. Our troops fighting to defend a foreign border whilst our own borders are overwhelmed by immigration and sepratism.
Anyway Im thinking of what British culture means to me. The suicide of Lee "Alexander" McQueen leaves me lost. He was nodoubt grief ridden with the loss of his mother, his aunt and his mentor. His surrealist Vrs Punk styling of classic couteur based on savil row technique brought the Pop Culture of the Uk to a world stage. His passing leaves a large legacy and yet an imense void. For such a small island we dont half generate a fist full of creative genius. I think of Viviene Westwood...Quentin Crisp....David Hockney...the list is endless and historical...those who never sacrifice style over content and whos imagination and unique creativity provoke an intense response.
Im posting above the link to a glimpse into the theatre of Mr McQeen. The exagerated footwear, the imagination of concept and the actual ability to turn dreams into a dali fabric exspression, more than just clothes but a complete exsperience and one i never got to witness personaly. Not that I could ever wear such garments but just the thought that they can be imagined and made fills me with pure excitment of fairy tails and dreams. This edgy exspressionism is what makes Britans Pop culture so unique. It couldnt happen anywhere else in the world and my love of design feels a wonderful thing. So watch the video and feel just how unique a country we are, the wealth we give to the arts.....even if its ballanced with the darkness of our political folly. For in our darkest hours isnt it the ability to imagine something better our saving grace? So god bless you Mr McQueen for showing me that being at the fringes of society can make those in mediocrity fall under the weight of critisism and be crushed by your infinate ideas and balsey attitude.
Today im brought to thinking about what being British means to me. As i watch the politcians defend themselves whilst my generation watch the progress of an illegal oil driven war in a foreign land. Another 3 children being brought home in boxes via Wooten Basset this week and Gordon Brown is shown on national television being interviewed, a tear in his eye as he discusses the death of his first child. I wonder at what legnths these politicians will go to try and get the sympathy of the public, although we all know he isnt going to survive another general election. Our troops fighting to defend a foreign border whilst our own borders are overwhelmed by immigration and sepratism.
Anyway Im thinking of what British culture means to me. The suicide of Lee "Alexander" McQueen leaves me lost. He was nodoubt grief ridden with the loss of his mother, his aunt and his mentor. His surrealist Vrs Punk styling of classic couteur based on savil row technique brought the Pop Culture of the Uk to a world stage. His passing leaves a large legacy and yet an imense void. For such a small island we dont half generate a fist full of creative genius. I think of Viviene Westwood...Quentin Crisp....David Hockney...the list is endless and historical...those who never sacrifice style over content and whos imagination and unique creativity provoke an intense response.
Im posting above the link to a glimpse into the theatre of Mr McQeen. The exagerated footwear, the imagination of concept and the actual ability to turn dreams into a dali fabric exspression, more than just clothes but a complete exsperience and one i never got to witness personaly. Not that I could ever wear such garments but just the thought that they can be imagined and made fills me with pure excitment of fairy tails and dreams. This edgy exspressionism is what makes Britans Pop culture so unique. It couldnt happen anywhere else in the world and my love of design feels a wonderful thing. So watch the video and feel just how unique a country we are, the wealth we give to the arts.....even if its ballanced with the darkness of our political folly. For in our darkest hours isnt it the ability to imagine something better our saving grace? So god bless you Mr McQueen for showing me that being at the fringes of society can make those in mediocrity fall under the weight of critisism and be crushed by your infinate ideas and balsey attitude.
Thursday 11 February 2010
Lie by Lie: The Mother Jones Iraq War Timeline (8/1/90 - 2/14/08) | Mother Jones
Lie by Lie: The Mother Jones Iraq War Timeline (8/1/90 - 2/14/08) | Mother Jones
the timeline of this illegal war in afganistan from an american perspective
the timeline of this illegal war in afganistan from an american perspective
ICU Stay Triggers Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder In 20% Of Patients
ICU Stay Triggers Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder In 20% Of Patients
another link to support my evidence that with 100+ icu admissions statisticaly i have an overwelming statisitcal proberbilaty im suffering from icu induced ptsd
another link to support my evidence that with 100+ icu admissions statisticaly i have an overwelming statisitcal proberbilaty im suffering from icu induced ptsd
Thursday 4 February 2010
The end of the dream, a new start
Where to start to exspress how im feeling. Maybe i will start on how my drug treatment for ptsd is going since its change 2 days ago. The 2 doses of amilytrptaline are ok. The night dose i get about 4 hours sleep out of. Not restful sleep like when taking the zopiclone, restless nightmare filled dreams that i wake from as if a snippers bullet just grazed my head. I get 2 hours blank sleep from the morning dose so i am settled with the though of 6/24 hours sleep, its better than in was and for this im grateful. I do have zopliclone if i wished to take it but preffer to process how i feel than burry it with medication. Ive burried how ive felt for too long and look where its got me. Denial and avoidance dont work forever nd the problems you end up with are dramaticaly bigger. I have some diazepam 5mgs for emergencies but again i use those only for getting me through any medical contact or severe anxiety. I now know i feel like this for a good reason. I feel a rage in my breast, the wound of deep pain, the grief of years of loss and sadness of being ignored by those there to help me. Its the loss of my cats and the life id built in new zeland that causing all these feelings. I just feel that there must be some justice for the mistakes that have happend in my misdiagnosis.....for i have lost much....but i will be stronger, lighter, wiser.....i will take time with my choices, with my friendships.......if i can get through all thats happend to me who am i to under-estimate myself now. I just keep thinking of the freedom i felt in NZ. Here in the UK i think of living in a box, in a row of boxes, in jeremy kyle land, walls so thin i can here the neighbours every movement. I balance it with the thoughts of new kittens and a fresh start. Im tired of new starts....learning to eat, walk, bath, shower, cook, work........again and again and agian....i tell myself i am worth the effort.....i tell myself my atchievments are enough to make 2 people content....but still i exspect more from myself.....i hold on to that ticket ive bought....knowing now i will never get to use it....telling myself to never say never....but i know the truth....i may as well buy a lottery ticket than hope i will be on that flight.....my dream is over........and now i wait for the new shoots of spring once more.....arohanui
Wednesday 3 February 2010
And the door opend
This is the letter i sent that opend the magic door to correct diagnosis....i had to provide all the information to this doc, but im just grateful she listend and read the documents id attatched......shes now being pretty suportive and thats all ive ever asked for. Just someone to be openminded enough to consider alternatives to bipolar!
I cannot post any of the replies as im bound by NHS privacy regulations. I wish i could because you would understand how frustrating and energy spping the process has been.
dr ******,
so...........another day of acute symptoms driving physical deterioration.
Im not latigeous by nature......just a thought. I have a great capcity for
forgivness due to practice and good nature. Im really very easy to help as i do
all the hardwork myself as weve seen. I would say my father would be though if
anything was to happen to me. Hes watched and listened, hes appauled at having
to watch me daily.
Ive been waiting since July. You gonna make things happen or what? My days are
a living hell, my nights worse. What are my options? I will do this on my
terms. I am deteriorating at a rate of knots. I think you should hear that very
loudly.
if you dont get intouch with me tomorrow friday...means ive another weekend of
this.....im not sure how my body is keeing going. Pure will power i think. I
cant put my arms above my head, have to sleep in my clothes, too tired and in
pain to shower....living on little sleep due to PTSD CLASSICAL symptoms.
Ive a right to be both impatient and a priority.
Do i have to beg even more?
I am really quite angry. If you actualy listen to my recording of my last
appointment you will hear me giving you all the classic symptoms of ptsd and
with my history its kinda obvious. No wonder i get so angry.
You could be off sick or on holiday. Those are the usual reason i have to
wait......just cos ive done it for 8 years doesnt make each extra day any
easier.
so there ive wagged my finger enough. But since July come on!
I cant help but think that its quite possible my body could fail at any time
due to the stress its under going and my weakening state. I do hope you wont
have this on your conscience....ive been treated as some nut neurotic and had
my symptoms underplayed for along time.....but ive made my peace with all
around me and am not frightend of death am just not ready right now....i try
not to think about it and try all practical methods to help myself and be
positive.
thank you for your time
sincerely
Sophie hudson
I cannot post any of the replies as im bound by NHS privacy regulations. I wish i could because you would understand how frustrating and energy spping the process has been.
dr ******,
so...........another day of acute symptoms driving physical deterioration.
Im not latigeous by nature......just a thought. I have a great capcity for
forgivness due to practice and good nature. Im really very easy to help as i do
all the hardwork myself as weve seen. I would say my father would be though if
anything was to happen to me. Hes watched and listened, hes appauled at having
to watch me daily.
Ive been waiting since July. You gonna make things happen or what? My days are
a living hell, my nights worse. What are my options? I will do this on my
terms. I am deteriorating at a rate of knots. I think you should hear that very
loudly.
if you dont get intouch with me tomorrow friday...means ive another weekend of
this.....im not sure how my body is keeing going. Pure will power i think. I
cant put my arms above my head, have to sleep in my clothes, too tired and in
pain to shower....living on little sleep due to PTSD CLASSICAL symptoms.
Ive a right to be both impatient and a priority.
Do i have to beg even more?
I am really quite angry. If you actualy listen to my recording of my last
appointment you will hear me giving you all the classic symptoms of ptsd and
with my history its kinda obvious. No wonder i get so angry.
You could be off sick or on holiday. Those are the usual reason i have to
wait......just cos ive done it for 8 years doesnt make each extra day any
easier.
so there ive wagged my finger enough. But since July come on!
I cant help but think that its quite possible my body could fail at any time
due to the stress its under going and my weakening state. I do hope you wont
have this on your conscience....ive been treated as some nut neurotic and had
my symptoms underplayed for along time.....but ive made my peace with all
around me and am not frightend of death am just not ready right now....i try
not to think about it and try all practical methods to help myself and be
positive.
thank you for your time
sincerely
Sophie hudson
A blast at my ex GP
This is a letter i felt compelled to write when i put all the pieces together after my dad and I managed to wean me off the horrible bi-polar meds id been on for 8 years. I suddenly became less confused and had clarity of the steps that had led me to where i am today. I have had no reply and i dont exspect one either. The god complex squad all refuse comment when the obvious is stated. I didnt enjoy writing this letter but i was thinking of the rest of her patients. Maybe she will think twice about her opinions next time, but i doubt it.
your not going to like hearing this. I guess youll just not bother. I mean why
would someone like matter to anyone?
Ive lost everything because of how things have worked out. I came time after
time to try and tell you it wasnt bipolar....and to be frank was patronised by
you. Someone who i trusted and was suposed to have my best interests in mind.
I have something called ICU induced Pshycosis and ICU induced post traumatic
shock disorder. Its discusting whats happend to me. Filled full of psychiatric
drugs, sectioned.......not listend to...........not understood......passified,
patronised and judged....
Hypervidulance ISNT mania....you must think me some stupid denial ridden
woman.....and how dare you.....
Because of my crazy symptoms being medicaly stimulated through terrible
traumatic and repeated exsperience i am driven to dishcarge myself, run away
because i cant stand my own behaviour and would rather die than have such
treatment by those who are supposed to care for me.....katrina has known for
along time but far beit for anyone to listen to her.....she knows me.....is
astute...
because of my need to avoide hospitals ive taken hand fulls of prednisone which
you have prescibed willingly.......and now my body is wrecked after 28 years of
constant therapy............
ive faught so hard to live........and to have 8 years stollen due to false
diagnosis and powerful mental meds is discusting....you lady need to take a
good look at yourself......imagine a child of yours having this treatment!
Its not you alone ****** and i know your a good lady who thought she was doing
right...........but how the hell does that help me now?
Ive lost, half my family, lots of friends, my home, my dream job at treetops,
given everything i own away including my car, house contents and my BELOVED
cats.......and for what? Probibly shortend my own preciouse life......
AND been told im gradiose....had my intuition confidence and personality
removed.....WHY?
Disgusting.......repugnant.....brutal.........its not like i dont have enough
problems to deal with but to be shafted by those you trust WHO are supposed to
be learned just gets right up my nose.....god complex egocentric lots from my
exsperience but there are lights in this...katrina....densie....and thats about
it!
So you probibly wont have the balls to have the courtesy to reply....if you do
you will fill it with flannel....tell me your sorry to hear my opinion and
maybe i should get another gp on my return.....well trust me i wont stop till i
find a compassionate, educated, understanding person who realises the state i
am in. We all make mistakes, i make huge ones....but it how we learn from them
that is most important.....i hope you learn from this cos its cost me dearly.
thank you for your courage in reading this
sophie hudson
PS i will miss your surgery, ****** and the girls have made it all slightly
bearable.....sad isnt it when you get more compassion adn understanding from
the woman who answers the phone that the doctor.
your not going to like hearing this. I guess youll just not bother. I mean why
would someone like matter to anyone?
Ive lost everything because of how things have worked out. I came time after
time to try and tell you it wasnt bipolar....and to be frank was patronised by
you. Someone who i trusted and was suposed to have my best interests in mind.
I have something called ICU induced Pshycosis and ICU induced post traumatic
shock disorder. Its discusting whats happend to me. Filled full of psychiatric
drugs, sectioned.......not listend to...........not understood......passified,
patronised and judged....
Hypervidulance ISNT mania....you must think me some stupid denial ridden
woman.....and how dare you.....
Because of my crazy symptoms being medicaly stimulated through terrible
traumatic and repeated exsperience i am driven to dishcarge myself, run away
because i cant stand my own behaviour and would rather die than have such
treatment by those who are supposed to care for me.....katrina has known for
along time but far beit for anyone to listen to her.....she knows me.....is
astute...
because of my need to avoide hospitals ive taken hand fulls of prednisone which
you have prescibed willingly.......and now my body is wrecked after 28 years of
constant therapy............
ive faught so hard to live........and to have 8 years stollen due to false
diagnosis and powerful mental meds is discusting....you lady need to take a
good look at yourself......imagine a child of yours having this treatment!
Its not you alone ****** and i know your a good lady who thought she was doing
right...........but how the hell does that help me now?
Ive lost, half my family, lots of friends, my home, my dream job at treetops,
given everything i own away including my car, house contents and my BELOVED
cats.......and for what? Probibly shortend my own preciouse life......
AND been told im gradiose....had my intuition confidence and personality
removed.....WHY?
Disgusting.......repugnant.....brutal.........its not like i dont have enough
problems to deal with but to be shafted by those you trust WHO are supposed to
be learned just gets right up my nose.....god complex egocentric lots from my
exsperience but there are lights in this...katrina....densie....and thats about
it!
So you probibly wont have the balls to have the courtesy to reply....if you do
you will fill it with flannel....tell me your sorry to hear my opinion and
maybe i should get another gp on my return.....well trust me i wont stop till i
find a compassionate, educated, understanding person who realises the state i
am in. We all make mistakes, i make huge ones....but it how we learn from them
that is most important.....i hope you learn from this cos its cost me dearly.
thank you for your courage in reading this
sophie hudson
PS i will miss your surgery, ****** and the girls have made it all slightly
bearable.....sad isnt it when you get more compassion adn understanding from
the woman who answers the phone that the doctor.
A cry for help (jan 2010)
This is a letter i wrote to my psychologist in the end period of my misdiagnosis. Where id removed all bipolar meds from my daily meds and the symtoms of ptsd where very vivid and acute. I kept being told just go to bed.....in this letter i try to exsplain why "just going to bed" wasnt that easy. Its very frank, somethings i have never openly discussed...my technique of coping was denial and avoidance. Since the acurate diagnosis and initial treatments for ptsd i have had no nightmares, panick attacks or day time flashbacks! Peace for the first time in 27 years.
hey i wouldnt be making such a show of myself by probing for you attention like
this.......not ever actualy.......i find it degrading that ive shared and
shared and shared...........my deepest thoughts in some desperate attempt for
someone to help me.........this willingness to be so vulnerable all i have left.
If it was as easy as just going to bed...when i lay down i straight away go
into a flashback of just as they lay you down with the anethtist standing over
me......then i fall asleep .......then i go into the dreams wish are actually
replaying memories of actual events..........im on the vent...i cant breath and
feel the machine forcing life through me......i can hear the noise of the
machine.....i count the seconds between the breaths so i can try to relax with
the knowledge i am breathing enough to keep my brain oxygenated....i feel pain
in my foot as they do an open cut down and feel the stitches.....i feel them
slit my right rist and place a arterial line in.........at my neck i feel the
central lines....im naked.....i can hear them talking....about me....im
paralysed....but awake.......i cant move, cant open my eyes, cant even shed a
tear to indicate.........every now and then soneone speaks to me....i know this
cos they say, now sophie what were gonna do is....turn you...sucction you
tracheal tube.....check you vitals.....draw blood...they open my eyes and put
drops in them....they put vasolene in my mouth........i feel the sheet being
pulled back......im thinking oh my god my body.....they wash me and i die with
each stroke of the sponge......they talk about there home lives as they do
it.......the tube in my throat hurts.....iwant to swallow but i cant....i think
i hear them saying how much of an attention seeker i am....and i probibly
deserve it but i dont think this is real.......but the rest is.....then my body
starts to tingle....my feet first......my fingers....it goes on and on and i
cant wake up......i slowly keep comming roung....i can now open my eyes but
cant keep my pupils in a single direction or focus....so hard to do....then i
make a lunge with my right arm for the thing thats cusing the pain in my
throat......its a tube.......see now i know its a ventilator but when it
happends i had no idead.....i remember being so cold cos my tmepriture was so
high....they had fans on me and i thought what kinda hell am i in im freezing
and there trying to kill me with a fan.......so i lunge for the tube and start
thrashing at it as i cant actualy control my hand or arm much....the alarms
keep going off and i get scoalded.....eventualy they get pissed and they agree
to pull out the tube....and this is when i wake up......normaly 30-45 mins into
sleep.........i wake up panicking and i get up dress and run around to dads and
am so wired i cant sleep....dont wanna sleep...tell myself no one died from not
sleeping......tell myself i gonna get ill if i dont......i know i need help
asap...........i been holding all this in for 27 years....each time i go into
hospital its got more vivid the time ive slept gets less......the only thing
with the mental meds was i didnt get this dream as often....id get one about
not being able to find my car in the car park and wake panicking........or my
teeth falling out.......
I dont think anyone understands.......think everyone thinks im a drama
queen.......actually its everyone else underplaying whats going on......even
jules doesnt have the capacity to imagine the horror i find myself in.......ive
had a psychotic break before in ICU and i see all the signs going on right now,
today..........i am so scared......so very scared.....and ive not even
mentioned when i was raped by 2 men at Uni when i was 28...or the year before
when i got a can and was driven into the middle of knowhere and molested..or
the horrific car accident i was in.......or the violence i saw as a
child.......those dreams ive managed to cope with cos i dont have the stimules
in basicaly most weeks of my life.........
ive so had enough.......i dont know how im going on.....its miraculous....
so there......ive taken a chance and shared with you my normal nights
sleep....and a few other things ive tried to avoid........no wonder, its so
obvious to me.........i get so cross when friends give me trite simplistic
advice like ive not tried everything in my power.......so i hope to god my
dealer calls today.........i hate breaking the law......but i will do what it
takes to survive.......
deary me........ive contacted a well know hypnotist off tv...paul
mckenna.........its just instinct mixed with desperation........his teams
replied.......its being passed on to his management and they will tell me what
there thoughts are.............i dont really hold out much hope but its a light
at the end of the tunnel but it could be a train again.....
Jules isnt gona come on monday.......shes gotta sore ankle.....fucking sore
ankle jesus christ........god must be testing me.......whats teh next obsticle is there gonna be?
so thats me........on my knees......i believe your stuff can help me with great
practise dilligence and effot but i would eat soil if you told me too cos youve
never hurt me.........never.....
i just hope i can remain strong and now have the blanket of delerium envelope
me cos then im screwed....
sorry to be so graphic......this is no way to live....lord knows ive tried....i
just wish someone would proritise this.....if my sats were low there quick
enough to knock me out and shove a tube down my throat........feel like ive had
a broken leg for 27 years .......
hey i wouldnt be making such a show of myself by probing for you attention like
this.......not ever actualy.......i find it degrading that ive shared and
shared and shared...........my deepest thoughts in some desperate attempt for
someone to help me.........this willingness to be so vulnerable all i have left.
If it was as easy as just going to bed...when i lay down i straight away go
into a flashback of just as they lay you down with the anethtist standing over
me......then i fall asleep .......then i go into the dreams wish are actually
replaying memories of actual events..........im on the vent...i cant breath and
feel the machine forcing life through me......i can hear the noise of the
machine.....i count the seconds between the breaths so i can try to relax with
the knowledge i am breathing enough to keep my brain oxygenated....i feel pain
in my foot as they do an open cut down and feel the stitches.....i feel them
slit my right rist and place a arterial line in.........at my neck i feel the
central lines....im naked.....i can hear them talking....about me....im
paralysed....but awake.......i cant move, cant open my eyes, cant even shed a
tear to indicate.........every now and then soneone speaks to me....i know this
cos they say, now sophie what were gonna do is....turn you...sucction you
tracheal tube.....check you vitals.....draw blood...they open my eyes and put
drops in them....they put vasolene in my mouth........i feel the sheet being
pulled back......im thinking oh my god my body.....they wash me and i die with
each stroke of the sponge......they talk about there home lives as they do
it.......the tube in my throat hurts.....iwant to swallow but i cant....i think
i hear them saying how much of an attention seeker i am....and i probibly
deserve it but i dont think this is real.......but the rest is.....then my body
starts to tingle....my feet first......my fingers....it goes on and on and i
cant wake up......i slowly keep comming roung....i can now open my eyes but
cant keep my pupils in a single direction or focus....so hard to do....then i
make a lunge with my right arm for the thing thats cusing the pain in my
throat......its a tube.......see now i know its a ventilator but when it
happends i had no idead.....i remember being so cold cos my tmepriture was so
high....they had fans on me and i thought what kinda hell am i in im freezing
and there trying to kill me with a fan.......so i lunge for the tube and start
thrashing at it as i cant actualy control my hand or arm much....the alarms
keep going off and i get scoalded.....eventualy they get pissed and they agree
to pull out the tube....and this is when i wake up......normaly 30-45 mins into
sleep.........i wake up panicking and i get up dress and run around to dads and
am so wired i cant sleep....dont wanna sleep...tell myself no one died from not
sleeping......tell myself i gonna get ill if i dont......i know i need help
asap...........i been holding all this in for 27 years....each time i go into
hospital its got more vivid the time ive slept gets less......the only thing
with the mental meds was i didnt get this dream as often....id get one about
not being able to find my car in the car park and wake panicking........or my
teeth falling out.......
I dont think anyone understands.......think everyone thinks im a drama
queen.......actually its everyone else underplaying whats going on......even
jules doesnt have the capacity to imagine the horror i find myself in.......ive
had a psychotic break before in ICU and i see all the signs going on right now,
today..........i am so scared......so very scared.....and ive not even
mentioned when i was raped by 2 men at Uni when i was 28...or the year before
when i got a can and was driven into the middle of knowhere and molested..or
the horrific car accident i was in.......or the violence i saw as a
child.......those dreams ive managed to cope with cos i dont have the stimules
in basicaly most weeks of my life.........
ive so had enough.......i dont know how im going on.....its miraculous....
so there......ive taken a chance and shared with you my normal nights
sleep....and a few other things ive tried to avoid........no wonder, its so
obvious to me.........i get so cross when friends give me trite simplistic
advice like ive not tried everything in my power.......so i hope to god my
dealer calls today.........i hate breaking the law......but i will do what it
takes to survive.......
deary me........ive contacted a well know hypnotist off tv...paul
mckenna.........its just instinct mixed with desperation........his teams
replied.......its being passed on to his management and they will tell me what
there thoughts are.............i dont really hold out much hope but its a light
at the end of the tunnel but it could be a train again.....
Jules isnt gona come on monday.......shes gotta sore ankle.....fucking sore
ankle jesus christ........god must be testing me.......whats teh next obsticle is there gonna be?
so thats me........on my knees......i believe your stuff can help me with great
practise dilligence and effot but i would eat soil if you told me too cos youve
never hurt me.........never.....
i just hope i can remain strong and now have the blanket of delerium envelope
me cos then im screwed....
sorry to be so graphic......this is no way to live....lord knows ive tried....i
just wish someone would proritise this.....if my sats were low there quick
enough to knock me out and shove a tube down my throat........feel like ive had
a broken leg for 27 years .......
Hawkshead where i was born
I was born in helm chase hospital in kendal, my first years where in Hawskhead in Cumbria U.K. Brown Cow Cottage was my home. Its a charlimg small lakeland village well known for being where Wordsworth went to school. Its where my Grandma and Grandpa are burried and where ive been a brides maid for my aunty. Its on a little hill and comands fabulous views of the fells around. As you can see its very pretty but alas its been desimated by tourist and its own natural beauty making it a rime centre for second homes and inflaited property prices. There are few old locals left which is sad as when i was little we all new everyone and there were some real typical lakeland charictures around. Time has passed since then and its hard to go back and see change but the memories of my first 10 years are wonderous. Of finding mischeif under the watchful eyes of the community, of chasing fairies on the pathway to granny and grandpops house. I am lucky i still have the memories, i feel sorry for people born into a urban environment. I still have the joy of loving nature and beauty of my rural childhood! Its funny because rotorua NZ is very similar in landscape to the south lakes, maybe thats why i felt so at home.
Back home in cumbria
Ulverston, where im staying with my Dad and Auntry Rona is a historic market town. Its claim to fame is tht Stan Laurel was born here, also it used to have the most pub per square mile in england! Alas the Great British pub is a dying thing. Supermarket booze and the recetion has meant that 3 pubs close every day now in the UK. Ulverston has a well known market on a thurseday and one thing ive come to realise is that the UK makes some of the best cheeses in the world. This pic is of a store that sells scrummy hand made cheeses! The other pic is of one of my friends (Mel) whos been a great support to me and someone who didnt run for the hills when sharing my journey. We met whilst working in the same hotel and shes a keeper as friends go!
8 Days into PTSD Treatment
Well.............day 8 of acknowledgment of ICU induced PTSD. Firstly my sleep is starting to come back to normal which makes everything better, emotions easier to process, life more comfortable all around. My appointment yesterday went well, for a change! Instead of locking horns with the psychiatrist we talked about real issues not the mis-dignosis battle. Im tollerating and responding well to 25mg amiltryptaline, only using the 5mg diazepam (valium) for anxiety peaks and the 3.75mg zopiclone (sleeping pill) has done its job. Due to the chemically addictive nature of zopiclone we decided to pull it from the treatment plan and use only for emergencies and replace it with another dose of amiltryptaline. When we spoke of the valium, i pulled out the pack id been supplied with and showed her that i had 4/7 left. I think somewhere on my notes someone (maybe my mother) has told them im a drug seeker so they are very very unwilling to give me any controlled drugs. I could be wrong about that and it could be just the NHS trusts protocols to prevent addiction to prescribed drugs. Its just something my mother said to me in the torrent of abuse i recived via a random phone call last week.
So now my meds for ptsd are as follows:
2x 25mg amiltrypatline
5 x 5mg diazepam for high stress moments such as going to the hospital for my oxlair jab or going to any medical trigger appointment.
5 x 3.75mg zopiclone for emergency sleep retreval.
I have another appointment for next tuesday to continue my response evaluation to meds.
Ive been put in a different class/group of mental illness now. Bi-polar is seen as a group 2 mental illness. A severe mental illness group, with bed fellows such as schizophrenia and now with the ptsd im classed as a group 1 patient which alters the way im allowed to access the NHS help available. Ive been put in group 1 supposidly to speed up my access to cognitive behavioural therapy as the meds only deal with the symptoms. Mask the aniety but its the therapy which will help me find coping mechanisms for the actual causes. This change of grouping though affect my status for a social worker so ive had to change angle and use my asthma to get referal for help with housing and benefit applications. Whatever it takes huh!
Now the first night without zopiclone and exchaged it for amiltryptaline, well i went to sleep at 10.30pm and woke at 1am wide awake. BUT no bad dreams and i was disciplined to stay in bed and soon i went back to sleep. Zopiclone is highly addictive as is the valium where as the amiltryptaline isnt so im happy with the results. Cos some of these mental meds are just poison and the less i have to take the better.
So another day, well rested, chest kinda ok, anxiety pretty low and im just enjoying feeling a little more normal. Im so relieved, there have been times where i thought i was indeed pathologicaly mad, doubted every feeeling , every action. So its baby steps, baby actoion, confidence slowly being rebuilt. Its early doors for me, but im so glad i never gave up and i thank the god of my understanding for giving me the stregnth and tenacity to just keep on researching and askng pertanant questions.
So now my meds for ptsd are as follows:
2x 25mg amiltrypatline
5 x 5mg diazepam for high stress moments such as going to the hospital for my oxlair jab or going to any medical trigger appointment.
5 x 3.75mg zopiclone for emergency sleep retreval.
I have another appointment for next tuesday to continue my response evaluation to meds.
Ive been put in a different class/group of mental illness now. Bi-polar is seen as a group 2 mental illness. A severe mental illness group, with bed fellows such as schizophrenia and now with the ptsd im classed as a group 1 patient which alters the way im allowed to access the NHS help available. Ive been put in group 1 supposidly to speed up my access to cognitive behavioural therapy as the meds only deal with the symptoms. Mask the aniety but its the therapy which will help me find coping mechanisms for the actual causes. This change of grouping though affect my status for a social worker so ive had to change angle and use my asthma to get referal for help with housing and benefit applications. Whatever it takes huh!
Now the first night without zopiclone and exchaged it for amiltryptaline, well i went to sleep at 10.30pm and woke at 1am wide awake. BUT no bad dreams and i was disciplined to stay in bed and soon i went back to sleep. Zopiclone is highly addictive as is the valium where as the amiltryptaline isnt so im happy with the results. Cos some of these mental meds are just poison and the less i have to take the better.
So another day, well rested, chest kinda ok, anxiety pretty low and im just enjoying feeling a little more normal. Im so relieved, there have been times where i thought i was indeed pathologicaly mad, doubted every feeeling , every action. So its baby steps, baby actoion, confidence slowly being rebuilt. Its early doors for me, but im so glad i never gave up and i thank the god of my understanding for giving me the stregnth and tenacity to just keep on researching and askng pertanant questions.
Tuesday 2 February 2010
What ive got left
Now i dont want you to think this is some long sob story. What i have got left i cherish. I have my Dad back after hes been lost in an alocholic wilderness for years. He came to stay with me serveral times in NZ and HE was the one that came and scooped me up and got me back to the UK. He would do anything for me and its a sincere and loving relationship. I am easy to forgive which sometimes gets me into trouble but with dad its been a diamond attriubute. So god bless poppa. Ive kept some awesome friends, really top shelf friends, who although may not understand compleatly they try. I have my CD collection, my Knives, 2 changes of clothes, an ipod, and a laptop. The Hudson side of the family which ive never really known have been so kind, giving me a bed and a roof and food on the plate. Ive met people online who have similar stories, have encouraged me to stand up with my interlect and science knowledge to the Docs and persue correct diagnosis. I try to concentrate on all the positives i have left. In the UK i can trial Oxlair (ant IGe therapy) that isnt available to me in NZ. So like i said, whats left seems to be concetrated and wonderful. Its only through loosing everything that ive come to appretiate the small things in life and i see this as a blessing. Im only at the beginning of my journey, its exciting to think of which direction i shall go in cos sure as eggs are eggs im not going to settle for being on lifes rubbish tip. I have too much to offer, too much to give, just need a direction which i will take time on deciding. No going off in any old direction these days. I have no debts finacialy but i owe much to many. Thank you to all that bring positivity and stregnth to my day.
what missdiagnosis has cost me
Im gonna list the things that ive lost over the last 8 years through my misdiagnosis and wrong treatment of a mental illness when what i had is a reactive condition to trauma and NOT an underlying pathalogic mental condition.
Firstly my family, my Mums side of the family have never understood why i wasnt just happy to survive what ive been through, they dismiss PTSD and have no wish to understand it, so thats half my family who are now estranged and have something i call "sympathy fatigue". I can understand it, I mean ive coped in my own way, been lost to mood staberlizers, antipsychotic meds and benzodiazipines for along time and it warped my personality. To be honest i was so busy working and battling the asthma to put a roof over my head and remain independant I didnt stop to battle the confusion or fight for my beloved family.
My friends, some come and stay, many come and go. For the preciously stated reasons. My behaviour is not always rassional but now i have the correct diagnosis and treatment I am hoping this will change. The friends who've stayed are diamonds, understanding and complementary on my charicture, bless them all for even trying to understand. Many of them have felt the pain of a lost sophie and been powerless to help, simply by being there they have helped and i thank each and everyone of them.
My car. I simply gave it away out of fear when i called Dad for emergency extraction from New Zealand. It was a Mitzi FTO and it took me 4 years to pay off, the medicaton meant id bent every pannel on it, lorazepam will do that.
My Career. As a gifted chef, my health meant i went through jobs, my treatments made what once was simple very difficult. This culminated in resigning from a beloved possition at a superlodge nr rotorua called "treetops". This loss i will always grieve for.
After Treetops I set up my own very succeful Gourmet takeaway and cafe called "Artizan". I made profit in my first year although i bought plant equipment and had a very dodgy landlord. I had a faithful following but on my last day of service i collapsed and had a respiratory arrest and a customer jumped of the counter and rescuistated me. I Asked my landlord for a 4 week rent break so i could heal and he laughed in my face so i told him to stick it up his arse. That was that! (pic of counter at top)
Then theres my cats, my beloved cats. Ive never married, i mean whod take on such a bundle of health like me? I never had the pleasure of children so my cats where my world and i just gave them away in NZ so i could run back to UK.
What else is there to loose you may be thinking. Well I lost my life in my SPiritual home of New Zealand. My beautiful rural home, my medical health team, coutnless thousands of dollars trying to find private answers, and just gave all my possetions id worked so hard to gain and been very choosey as im a skint flint, i just gave everything away.
I bought a ticket to NZ last week. One way ticket to retrieve my life but it seems the damage has been done, i cant work anymore in catering due to my phsyical state, have no way of supporting myself and the friends i may or may not go to live with are unsure now because of how theve seen me on all that crap medication i should never have been on. My options are to fly back to NZ and hope i can work something out or stay in Cumbria UK and go on the council house list and be a benefit woman for the rest of my life. What a choice to have to make after working to hard and induring so much.
I really dont know what i should do. My flight is for 25 Oct 2010. I have time to think, but truly i dont know which way to turn. For me its about damage limitation now. There are pros and cons to both options so its a day at a time. Try not to be resentful for whats happend but i feel someone should pay for whats happend to thing gragarious, carefree, tallented chef, this broken woman. Will I ever get back to where i was? Im not sure, all I know is im stronger for it all.
thanks for reading. Please post any comments i am interested in your feedback.
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