- 2 years ago
- Wedding: May 2016
Hi Bees, just needed a place to vent and see if maybe anyone else has any advice or encouragement.
I am so in love with my SO, and I know he feels the same. We both want to get engaged so badly, but it seems like every time we’re almost there, something happens to disrupt our financial situation. I’m 29, he’s 28, so we’re not exactly kids. I have more of an education than SO, but I can’t find a job in my field, and I really feel like my MA is a complete joke. He has his GED and is thinking about going back to school for art (not that he would make any money, but he’s so talented, it would really be criminal not to hone his skills).
We live together, and he’s out of work for the second time since we’ve been together (about a year). The first time he got fired over something stupid…he was texting me about some stuff that was going on at work with his boss, just the usual vent, and he accidentally sent it to his boss instead(!) stupid, but we’ve all done something like that, and about a month later he was working a job where he easily made twice the money he did before.
But no. SO has epilepsy, and while it used to be well controlled, it seems like any time he finds himself in a higher stress work environment, it starts acting up. He missed a lot of work in the past month due to his partial seizures (we call them “episodes”…he gets physically ill, starts pouring buckets of sweat, trembling a bit, with a lot of deja vu, and then a horrible headache), and then he was injured at work when he hurt his rotator cuff. He’s waiting to hear back from the workman’s comp people, but he is horrible about things like this…he never follows up with paperwork or anything like that. I’ve been trying to micromanage things, but it’s hard when I can’t be the one to call his caseworker or whatever.
I know, he should grow up and do it himself, but I’m very type A, I just think everything will get done more quickly (and let’s face it, better) if I do it myself.
Last Friday was a very bad day. He was given Tramadol (a painkiller) for his work injury. One of the side effects is seizures, however after speaking with the doctor and the pharmacist, we thought it would be okay. I am almost positive he missed a dose of his anti-seizure medication, and on Friday he had two grand mal seizures and five smaller episodes.
He hasn’t had a grand mal since October of last year. The physical effects were pretty bad. He woke up out of a dead sleep, and I had to catch him to keep him from falling on our tile floor. When he stopped seizing, he immediately tried to get up. If you know anything about seizures, it’s like your brain “resets” itself. One side usually comes back before the other, so while he could see and hear, he had no real verbal skills (basically, if he tried to talk he sounded like a toddler who is just picking up on language). I tried to keep him still, because he had sweat so much that the whole floor was a slippery mess. I looked into his face and saw that he just wasn’t there. He kept bumbling around the apartment, knocking into walls, tripping, almost pulled the TV off of the entertainment center and onto himself. I finally had to call an ambulance because I couldn’t keep him still and any time I tried, he would violently push me (don’t take this as abuse, he literally has no recollection, and he was panicked).
The EMTs came, but he wouldn’t go to the hospital. They called the police because they were afraid he was going to get combative and at this point they were concerned about some sort of head injury because he was going back and forth between awareness and complete confusion. All of these people were in our house, basically accusing him of OD’ing because they saw the bottle of Tramadol in the living room (he had two prescriptions, for a total of 40 pills to be taken over a two week period, where he could take them every four hours…so you do the math).
Finally, finally we talked him into going, and once he was in the ambulance, the EMTs decided they needed a medic to go with us in case he started seizing again. This guy gets there, tries to give SO a sedative, but screws up the line insertion, and SO starts saying, again, that he doesn’t want to go to the hospital. The medic asks him a few questions:
How old are you? 25! (No, he’s 28)
What day is it? Thursday! (No, it’s Friday)
What’s the date? The 27th! (No, it’s the 1st)
Who’s the president? OBAMA! (okay, so 1/4)
THEN, the medic lets him go, and bees, I lost my damn mind. I have never totally lost my cool like I did that day. I was borderline hysterically crying, and I screamed at the medic that I f*cking hated him and what the f*ck was wrong with him?! Then I hopped out of the ambulance and took off after SO, who was wandering in a daze down the street. I finally caught up with him and he was so angry with me. He thought he was getting arrested. He kept screaming that he hated me and that he was leaving me forever and that he couldn’t stand to be around me–nothing that he would ever say to me if he had been in his right mind.
Then the medics had him sign some paperwork saying he refused treatment and they left.
He ended up having another seizure shortly afterwards, but luckily this one was much smaller and he just fell asleep afterwards.
He’s been good since then, but the mental effects on both of us have been tremendous. He’s been really, really depressed because he feels worthless, anxious, and scared. I’ve pretty much felt close to the same, except helpless probably fits more than worthless does. It’s also infuriating because a lot of times drug overdoses cause seizures. We live on a very busy street, and I overheard one of the business owners talking about how “it looks like there are a bunch of dope fiends living up there” (in our apartment).
If he had a grand mal when he was at home, alone, he would probably die or at least be in great danger. I don’t think I’m being dramatic. If he didn’t choke to death, the resulting injuries from him bumbling around the apartment like a maniac would do it. He has a whole line of puncture wounds down his arm from this last time, and suffered some sort of trauma to his throat. I was there with him, but I had to run away for a minute to go down the stairs and open the door for the ambulance.
I am so distracted at work, I’m probably useless. If he doesn’t answer the phone when I call, it takes everything in me not to call the police and have them go check on him.
On top of all that, I’m worried about the money. He doesn’t have insurance, and while I can kind of support the both of us, it’s pushing it. He should, honestly, qualify for social security because of his disability, but he’s applied several times in his life and been declined.
I don’t even know what the point of this is anymore, except I just needed a place to get it all out. We’ve both cried a lot in the past few days, but I’m a very private person, so confiding these feelings to my family and friends is really difficult.
And damn it, on top of all that, I just want us to get engaged already. I feel like that would give me more weight with the doctors, etc.