Call 911

June 13th- I had Travis take me to the ER, where they prescribed me sleeping medicine and anti-anxiety medicine.

June 14th- I began to have trouble tracking audibly.  When anyone would speak to me, what I would hear is not what they were saying.  The only way I could understand was if they wrote down what they were saying.  To say I was freaking out would be putting it mildly.  I asked Travis to take me to a hospital in the city, as I didn't think our small hospital was equipped to figure out what was going on.  Half way to the city I regained my ablitity to track and we decided to turn around and give the medicines one more try.

June 15th- Even though I was again having trouble tracking, I was still sound enough to realize I needed to contact my insurance and find out what I needed to do in order to get help.  They put me in touch with a therapist and we were able to get an appointment for that day.  Again, I carried on with normal things, like cleaning the house.  But then I could feel it happening again, so we left for the doctor early.  Everything went well with the doctor.  He was still thinking it could be anxiety and set us up with a followup appointment.

Travis and I went for an early dinner.  We ordered our food and then it progressed severly.  Not only could I not understand what he was saying, I now was behaving erratically, talking to strangers, saying odd things.  I begged Travis to call 911.  I was taken to a hospital.

Now this is why I am doing this blog.  The hospital, because they were not familiar with my illness and to their credit, all my symptoms seemed to resemble a mental illness, sent to me to a psychiatric hospital.  I do not blame them, however if they knew more and what tests to run, I may have healed faster and avoided what I will call "10 days and almost dead."