2020

 

Wʜɪʟᴇ Mʀ. Rᴏʙᴇʀᴛs ᴀɴᴅ I lived together, I pursued mental health services for my complex PTSD (C-PTSD). The full toxicity of our relationship still hadn’t fully reached a conscious level, and I was later betrayed by the very system designed to help. As stated elsewhere, this is a very complex journey with multiple layers and intricacies.

 

My therapist through Kaiser Permanente continued to taunt me on a weekly basis by talking about how good rabbit stew tastes, because he knew my rabbits were my emotional support animals. When he subsequently texted me a recipe for rabbit stew, I fired him.

 

2021

 

While taking care of my 96-year-old mother-in-law for six months, Mr. Roberts and his sister Betty were at each other’s throats. They would yell into the phone and tell each other off. Mr. Roberts threatened Betty on more than one occasion to call ‘elder abuse’ on her because Betty wouldn’t allow Jo to have her personal belongings while staying with us. This led me to buy Jo a new wardrobe, which was increasing the credit card debt. I warned Mr. Roberts three times to check the credit card statement, but instead, he texted me with “Money is no object. Do your thing.” When he finally checked the credit card statement, it was at its limit, which he blamed me for.

 

2022

 

There I was, stranded in the back of my vehicle, without a home and without legal representation, when I received a demand letter emailed from Mr. Roberts’ attorney, Mr. Conrad. The timing couldn’t have been worse, but then, it was fitting for the circumstances.

 

It was a demand for document production. I had just been released from the hospital. Mr. Conrad was right; I did owe him documents for the divorce. If I’d had legal representation, this would have been taken care of in a more timely manner.

 

After having Mr. Roberts’ wages garnished, it took a couple of months to start receiving the checks, but I was finally able to retain counsel again. Looking back, I still believe that Lisa Mumford was the best attorney for me, but she had let me go as her client because of the delinquent spousal support and the retainer running low. The legal counsel I retained after Lisa was good enough—Gail Fishburn—but she abruptly quit. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I was left with whom I referred to as ‘Pete and Repeat’ for legal representation.

 

I was not only trying to cope with the demands of the impending divorce proceedings but also with the temporary protective order Mr. Roberts filed against me out of retaliation, which effectively served as a gag order, in addition to the fact that I was homeless and living stranded in the back of the Toyota Highlander with a cracked radiator.

 

Then I was hospitalized with four bleeding ulcers, which left me anemic to the point where I couldn’t even sit up or I’d pass out. I called 911 and waited for the EMTs to slide me out of the back of the Highlander because, by that time, I could no longer sit up. When they arrived, they instructed me to get out of the Highlander. But how was I going to do that without their assistance? This was when I knew this wasn’t the fire department I was dealing with. They would have had me out of there in no time instead of pulling at my ankles, trying to get me to sit up and scoot out.

 

They finally slid me out the back, and I couldn’t stand or walk on my own. Reluctantly, they offered me assistance as I got inside the ambulance. That’s when they checked my vitals and took me to the Emergency Department (ED). Once in the ED, I had to use the bathroom. But instead of wheeling me to the restroom, they had me walk. I was near collapse the entire way.

 

Once in the restroom, I collapsed to the floor while trying to stand up after using the toilet. I could barely reach the door handle to get the door open so that I could ask for help. The attending nurse admonished me for not using the pull cord to request assistance, which I couldn’t reach or even find. Then she admonished me for letting my hospital gown slip off my shoulders. It hadn’t been tied properly to stay on as I collapsed to the floor. It was the end of her shift, and I suppose she was ready to go home.

 

Then they helped me back to my bed. I was barely aware of what was going on around me because I was so focused on making it back to the bed, with their help, of course. I didn’t even have it in me to cuss anybody out for not taking this seriously.

 

The doctor arrived and provided me with the results of the blood work. That’s when I found out that my iron was well below the normal range, which explained why I collapsed in the restroom when I attempted to stand, and at the post office earlier that day.

 

I was subsequently admitted to the hospital, where I received an external catheter, known as a wick, fluids, and a blood transfusion. They were going to give me two blood transfusions but changed it to one, which landed me in the hospital again just a few days after being released.

 

During my second visit to the ED, before being admitted, they had poked me numerous times trying to find a vein. They finally went for the carotid artery because that was a sure bet. I remember my neck bothering me and feeling swollen after I’d been discharged from the hospital. The second time I was hospitalized, it was quite a fiasco.

 

The nurse had given me a medication I wasn’t supposed to have, which lowered my blood pressure even further. Hospital staff put sticker pads on my chest and kept a crash cart nearby just in case I went into cardiac arrest.

 

The nurses kept poking my hands and arms trying to draw blood but each poke with the needle didn’t yield any results. I took my Sharpie out and started drawing Xs on my hands and arms, to show where they’d already tried. Finally, they called in a specialist who used a sonogram to find a vein, and they put in an IV. So, I had two IVs: one in my arm, and one in my neck.

 

The next fiasco was when they wouldn’t let me eat for two days. Their initial plan was to perform an endoscopy on me, but they couldn’t because it required anesthesia, and they couldn’t give me anesthesia because the nurse had given me blood pressure medication even though it was listed under medications that I wasn't supposed to have. Noted in my electronic medical records:

 

“…patient received two anti-hypertensives this AM. Procedure aborted as cannot provide sedation with blood pressure this low.”

 

Two days and two blood transfusions later, my blood pressure stabilized, and I was able to have the endoscopy done. Whatever anesthesia they used worked great. I didn’t even remember them giving it to me. When I woke up, I was back in my room, and they were poking me again for a blood sample, just not where I had drawn the black Xs on my arms and hands. At one point, I negotiated a two-hour reprieve from them taking more blood. The two hours passed quickly and they were back to poking me with needles again.

 

I was homeless while recovering from my hospital stay, on top of the stress Mr. Roberts was putting me through with his psychological warfare against me. This was in addition to my chronic pain condition, chronic fatigue, migraines, and debilitating anxiety.

 

During my hospital stay, they didn’t prepare me for what to expect with the colonoscopy prep, and I ended up having to buy my own adult diapers, wet wipes, and leggings, which I purchased on Instacart and had delivered to my room.

 

I kept journal entries on my phone:

 

“The first blood transfusion I received was due to anemia caused by four bleeding ulcers, which they closed up during my first hospital stay.

 

The second blood transfusion was due to being released from the hospital too soon, being readmitted, and then given the wrong medication, causing staff to bring out the ‘crash cart’ because it caused my blood pressure to drop drastically.

 

The third time was when my blood pressure dropped again so low during preparation for another procedure that they had to give me a third transfusion.

 

Good grief! I’m still woozy, but I can get up and use the bathroom now. Before, they put a bedpan underneath me to pee while lying in bed (so embarrassing), and then they gave me a wick that sucks up the pee. But then, the last time I used it, it didn’t suck it up. So, I had to change clothes, and they changed the bedding.

 

Nobody warned me just how dreadful the prep would be for a colonoscopy! They didn’t even have supplies such as wet wipes, adult diapers, or even just a word of caution! I got into the shower with my IVs at 4:00 a.m. I was so pissed! They were telling me to get out of the shower, and I was telling them, I’m not getting out of the shower! I finally got out when the Instacart delivery arrived.

 

Instacart has been a lifesaver for me at various times. Fortunately, before becoming penniless and homeless, I had paid for a one-year membership, and it was still active. After I began receiving spousal support, Instacart continued to come through for me.