So much has happened these last nine months. Enough time has passed that I could have carried a baby to term instead of all the hoopla that's gone on here. On March 15, 2015, Jason was in a very serious accident while on duty. The suspect of a bar fight first injured another officer, stole an SUV, then tried to ram Jason's police car head-first going 90 mph. Thanks to some quick reflexes and a Heavenly Father who was watching over him, Jason was able to swerve at the last minute and avoid the head-on collision. Instead, the stolen car hit his police vehicle right behind the driver's side door. Jason sustained some pretty impressive bruising but other than that he was fine. No broken bones or cuts; no head injuries or whiplash. We were, and are, very grateful - it could have been so much worse.
But what we didn't know immediately was that the accident had severely aggravated a degenerative back condition that, before, hadn't caused much trouble. After the accident, things began to be much worse. Enter Worker's Comp and multiple visits to doctors and specialists. They found that where once things were stable, they were no longer so. Jason went from normal duty to light duty to finally staying at home full time, waiting until Worker's Comp could come to a conclusion. He was in, and still has, pain while they are saying he's fine for duty. Working with them has been extremely frustrating to say the least.
While all this was happening, something else was taking place on a deeper level. Slowly, so slowly I almost didn't notice, Jason began spiraling down into a dangerously dark place. By the end of September it was all too much. The PTSD, depression and anxiety had caught up to him. It's scary asking for that kind of emotional help. I know, I've been there. And I'd been where he was going. So the phone calls began. First to the psychologist to see if they could work him in quickly. When she was on vacation, I called my psychiatrist to see if they could see him, only to be told they don't treat spouses of patients. I understood, but still we needed help. And quickly. Each place I called I asked for an inpatient hospital recommendation. That they could help with. But it wasn't that easy. The first two hospitals had no beds available; our insurance was out of network on the third. The fourth was the charm. It was a 40 minute drive there but we made the appointment and packed a bag just to be prepared, then went for the assessment. Obviously, they kept him and I was glad for the preparation of clothes and such. Emotionally I was less prepared. Deep down I had known they would keep him. He was pretty bad off and I knew this. But to have to kiss him goodbye and leave him there - that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
They kept him four days. He was evaluated and screened by nurses, doctors and psychiatrists. He had group therapy and even craft time. They figured out a medication routine that worked for him and he began sleeping through the night again. Every night, during visiting hours, I could see the anxiety lessen in his eyes and, finally, FINALLY, I could see my husband again.
No comments:
Post a Comment