I'm sitting in a bed in the medical emergency unit of my city's hospital after an overdose.
This overdose didn't come out of no where - I hadn't taken my meds properly for two days, and everything crumbled today. My bank wasn't helpful, I had to use a loan to pay for gymnastics, and even then didn't have it in me to go hand in my forms. Between the ste
I rescheduled today's plans for later this weekend or next week, and hopefully that all works out, There is the unfortunate chance that I'm stuck here for 24 hours.
My doctor thankfully just walked in and said my tylenol levels were fine. I just need to get one more text done, and I should be out in just over an hour!
So, overall, this experience wasn't too bad.
The only real bad part about the experience was the ambulance ride over,
This paramedic had been to our place a week before to pick up my roommate after an ativan overdose. She decided that it was her job to tell us how we should be living our lives, and kept on insinuating the relationship between my friend and I was destructive. Does she have depression? Does she know how supportive it is to live with someone who understands? It's your job to take patients to the hospital in a safe manner. Not to judge our lives.