Disability

Psst... Pass it on to everyone you know! D

If we all write to Dalton & Andrea ...

....we can stop this budget that would destroy Ontario

email Dalton:'

dmcguinty.mpp.co@liberal.ola.org

email Andrea:

ahorwath-co@ndp.on.ca

He wants to cut disability!

MY REALITY----
April 5,2012 I walked into rouge valley ajax hospital asking for help with my cycling mood swings and my severe migraine. Was admitted and put on form 1. Transferred to centenary hospital, still no meds yet to help calm and was refused a family member to come with me because visiting hours where over. Once there, I was given a gown and told to put it on. I refused. Nurse demanded. I refused and threw the gown into the hallway. I asked for meds first, then the gown. Instead she called security. 3 security and 3 nurses, grabbed me, handcuffed me, threw me tummy down on the floor, they stepped on my head, arms and feet and stripped off my pants, underwear too. I screamed and cried for them to please stop, telling them I was raped before, please stop and the security on stepped on my head even harder. After the incident, I was in complete shock and could not stop crying. They still did not bring me any meds for at least and hour longer. My left leg was fractured and my right wrist has ligament damage, as well as back, neck and shoulder pain.

I did try and resolve my dispute with rouge valley centenery hospital respectfully and through the right avenues. But as I was told by patient relations, because of the stigma of bipolar disorder, I will never be heard. This is a clear violation of my human rights. I am currently filing papers with human rights, or at least I am trying to get the motivation to do so. But after being literally kicked down and stepped on like garbage and told  that I have no rights by no only the hospital, but by the Police Department (43 Division), because although yes I do have a mental illness, it will NEVER define who I am! It is unfortunate that the very healthcare system I trusted to "help" me through my crisis, instead took advantage of me and saw me as just another patient, just a paycheck. This is disheartening and although they obviously do not care, they have forever altered my view on where I can turn to for help and that is unfair!!!!

Below is something I wrote a few years ago.... this was before rouge valley centenery stripped me of not only my clothing, but my dignity and my feeling of self worth... Now I read this EVERY SINGLE DAY, trying to believe in my own words again....

------I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, a condition that stems from having a chemical imbalance in my brain. It is said to be genetic, yet no one knows how it starts. It is controllable if I am responsible (just like having diabetes).
From total independence, my family and I adjusted to the constant monitoring that was required. It's debilitating at the start because one is in denial! A stigma I burdened myself with. There is also the slow progress towards getting back to doing my usual activities. From doing anything I wanted whenever I wanted, I had to pause for a while until my body adjusted to the meds. That meant a pause on work, driving, going to church, enjoying my son, spending time with my family and spending time with my husband.
Mental illness is a character defect-- cause for social isolation, job discrimination, and shame. There were no posh clinics; only dark corridors locked away from the world. At 26yrs of age, I was ushered through padlocked gates. I met the faces of psychosis and schizophrenia; the lost souls haunted by delusions and dementia. Many, like me, were buried under despair so deep; we had pursued a death of our own design. You lowered your head as you walked those halls, fearful of seeing your pain in anothers eyes.
 After a couple of hospitalizations and MANY MANY MANY different medication trials, I eventually rejoined the world, unaware that the true nature of my illness remained hidden, and a long hazardous highway stretched out ahead of me. Burning to prove myself, I learned the power of God was the only way to truly set me free and I like a rose I began to bloom. I am now after 2 years on a sick leave of absence, back at work full time as a support worker and I give all the Glory to the Almighty God .. The Great Physician!!
I have a role in controlling this illness. Every setback teaches me something ... Behaviors, triggers, responses– and how to reach out. I no longer fear the social stigma or silent prejudice harbored by some. I must forgive those who stepped away along the ugly course of my illness. It takes stamina and understanding to endure my erratic and irrational behavior ... to seek me out when I withdraw from life … to listen as I speed through a digressive one-way discourse … to painfully watch my self-abuse. To be the last barricade between me and death ... Those who love me enough to ride it out are my blessing and my strength.
I HAVE a disorder --- IT DOES NOT DEFINE ME. I remain the loving, intelligent, independent and compassionate woman I have always been. This illness will not beat me! I WILL find joy in the middle ground!!!
Ignorance about this illness persists, despite legislation and health benefits. Trust me: You cannot “just snap out of it.” You do not choose to lose your career, your friends or your life. You come to accept that your sanity, even your survival, will forever depend on a daily regimen of ever-changing medications.
I take the medication prescribed to me. For over 2 years I lived in a fog while they tried to figure out my cocktail. I slept a lot one minute and couldn't sleep at all the next. I lost 24 hours of my day. It was like the whole world was put on slow-mo and I couldn’t get anything done.
Eventually, I came out of the fog as the whole, complete, medicated me. You should never feel medicated by the way. I don’t. I still have ups and downs but they are much less and far between. I still write – but I have a lot more positive things to say these days.
Generally, my life as a medicated bipolar is good. The most important thing for me has been this.
I am not {me} the bipolar.
I am {me} the mother, the wife, the hard worker, and the caregiver.
My illness doesn’t define me. No matter what others think of me, or people with bipolar like me – I am not a victim.
I am not a stigma.
I am just me.

 Oscar Pistorius was selected Wednesday to run in both the individual 400 metres and the 4x400 relay at the London Olympics, clearing the way for him to become the first amputee track athlete to compete at any games.

In a surprise last-minute decision, South Africa's Olympic committee and national track federation said the double amputee can run in his individual event as well as the relay even though he did not meet the country's qualifying criteria in the 400.

The Olympic committee earlier announced that Pistorius, who runs on carbon fiber blades, had been picked only for the relay.

Hey Smith, I'm not getting a workable link to this story ...

Been looking at what funds are available to cover my funeral - I live by myself on a disability pension. I have a generous life insurance policy that covers everything including a Death Policy for burial ($10,000.00) until I officially retire (from the Mob!) at age 65, then it becomes a lump sum of $4,000.oo that can be used for burials, and the province of Quebec has $2,500.00 that can be used for burial costs. And my credit union has me insured as well, but I'm getting someone over here to look at that policy carefully.

Always a good idea to get these things settled well ahead of time.

ps: didn't know where else to put this, but I'm disabled, so hey...

You're welcome!

It'll save everyone here a lot of time and trouble, then. Maybe they'll be inclined to have a memorial service for me. I've already selected the music - hope they abide with me - When The Saints, Jumping Jack Flash, and You Can't always Get What You Want.