More on PTSD

Originally published on October 18, 2011 on the old blog


Composed a bit more now, I'm ready to hopefully finish this PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) article. In the last post, debunking myths was my main focus. In this article, we will review the realities.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD can be triggered in anyone that has experienced a life altering event, unexpected shock (also referred to as shell shock), participating in body removal, recitation of sick or injured, unexpectedly witnessing flying, cut off, severed, or dismembered body parts. Being the witness or an active participant in any of these events standing on the sideline can result in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  It is common for police, fire fighter, EMT, military, and other professions of this sort to be traumatized by occurrences in their line of work. It is also common for suicide victim family survivors, and people that suffer from extreme anxieties to fall victim to Post Traumatic Stress disorder as well. As mentioned in the last post, PTSD does not discriminate against anyone.

Classifications:
Class 1 symptoms: the sufferer re-experiences the traumatic incident in nightmares & flashbacks. [This could be compared to a living hell.]
Class 2 symptoms: the sufferer displays avoidance. He/she wants to stay away from anything that may possibly remind her/him of the trauma. They may also display lack of interest to all life circumstances, like sights, smells, sounds, conversations associated or reminding them of the trauma. They could become unable to enjoy activities or loving/compassionate feelings toward loved ones. [This typically is the onset of anxiety disorders or depression.]
Class 3 symptoms: hyperarousal - Classic symptoms are being irritable all the time & an inability to sleep. [Again, anxiety and depression.]

Characteristics
Onset and duration of PTSD is determined by timing and the individual experiencing it.
Acute –when the duration of symptoms is shorter than 3 months.
Chronic –when the symptoms last three months or longer.
Delayed Onset - between the traumatic event and the onset of the symptoms there is at least 6 month period.

How someone experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder feels
Diagnostic criteria for Post traumatic Stress Disorder from DSM IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) as sited below:
The traumatic event is persistently re-experienced in one (or more) of the following ways:
(1) Recurrent and intrusive distressing recollections of the event, including images, thoughts, or perceptions.
(2) Recurrent distressing dreams of the event.
(3) Acting or feeling as if the traumatic event were recurring (includes a sense of reliving the experience, illusions, hallucinations, and dissociative flashback episodes, including those that occur on awakening or when intoxicated).
(4) Intense psychological distress at exposure to internal or external cues that symbolize or resemble an aspect of the traumatic event
(5) Persistent avoidance of stimuli associated with the trauma and numbing of general responsiveness, as indicated by three (or more) of the following: 
-Efforts to avoid thoughts, feelings, or conversations associated with the trauma.
-Efforts to avoid activities, places, or people that arouse recollections of the trauma
-Inability to recall an important aspect of the trauma
-Markedly diminished interest or participation in significant activities
-Feeling of detachment or estrangement from others
-Restricted range of affect (e.g., unable to have loving feelings)
      -Sense of a foreshortened future
Persistent symptoms of increased arousal (not present before the trauma), indicated by two (or more) of the following: (1) Difficulty falling or staying asleep
(2) Irritability or outbursts of anger
(3) Difficulty concentrating
(4) Hypervigilance
(5) Exaggerated startle response

If you know someone diagnosed or being treated for PTSD Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, there are many ways you can help. But, telling them "it's all in your head" is the worst thing you could ever say.
Some people suffering from PTSD have taken their own life. Suicide is never a solution. If you know someone suffering from PTSD, be a friend. Don't push them over the edge.

There's more to say, but I can't write anymore at this time. Maybe tomorrow, there will be understanding people in this life.


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Only a Mother Could Handle This!

This post was originally published on my primary Blog at Chrissy Adventures at WordPress.
 Join me on my primary blog!


******Warning******This post may induce vomiting

Some people are born with an iron stomach. They can eat anything, smell anything, touch anything and seemingly nothing grosses them out. Others have a very touchy queasy tummy and just can't handle disgusting smells, tastes, or consistencies. These people have what we call a weak stomach. Around here, we have a combination of both kinds ;-)

A few nights ago, my husband and I were watching television in the bedroom. The kids were off doing their own things (playing video games, doing homework, and watching television in the living room).  In the bedroom we were watching Click. It's such a touching comedic movie about how much family and time with loved ones means more than time spent at work making a living.  Here's how the last 2 minutes played out...
Just as Adam Sandler falls to the ground outside the hospital trying to get his son's attention we hear a tiny knock on the door. We ignored it, both thinking once the kids don't hear us answer, they'll wait till the movie has finished. Afterall, this is the touching part. I'm crying and my husband is tearing up too.

Adam Sandler's son runs to him and the rest of the family is surrounding him on the pavement, covering him with umbrellas to keep the rain off him. We hear another tiny knock on the door. " Surely, they can wait till the movie ends", we both think. Several more tiny timid knocks on the door in a row...My husband jumps up, cracks the door and says very quickly, "we're watching a movie. It's almost finished. We'll be out in a minute, Okay?" He shuts the door and sits back down. We finish the movie and Nick says, "Well, let's go see what the boys wanted. XXX had a sad bewildered look on his face."

My husband beats me to it. He's standing in the hallway talking to XXX (my oldest son). "What's going on?"  My oldest answers, "I got sick." My husband cautiously walks to the other end of the hallway as if he's scouting out new territory and peeps around the corner. "C H R I S S Y!!!" He calls to me. About this time I'm in the Hallway on the other end. There's about 15ft between he and I and I hesitate..."What?"
"OH my GOSH, It's horrible. Come here. Oh my...what happened again?" he replies.

"Great, I guess I'd better go", I think to myself. I made my way to the end of the hallway and I see XXX standing there with the most pitiful look on his face. He's pale, sad, and dismayed. I also see a mop bucket and smell the problem. It's nasty...it's vomit...with nasty chunks in it and it's EVERYWHERE. I could tell he attempted to make it to the restroom, but only made it to the door about 7ft shy of his target (the toilet). It dawned on me that we put off answering the door to finish that awesome movie about how important family is and in the process neglected some family right here. How ironic!

"Why are you using a mop to clean up chunks son?" I ask.  Suddenly I hear the other two boys as they peeked out the door of their bedrooms. From the distance I hear, "Hey, yeah...we tried to help him. We gave him the mop and the bucket."

"What?", I exclaim, "you gave him the bucket and mop, then abandoned him? This has been here for at least 10 minutes. This is not fresh. You can't mop up something chunky!!"
"Yeah, well, we don't want to get sick," another son replies as he speaks through his hand covering his mouth. The bedroom door shuts and they disappear. I hear gagging from their room.

My husband just stands there, mesmerized by the puke. Mouth gaping open, trying to figure out how one person could vomit so much in only one event. He even begins to scratch his head and mumble out loud about it. "It looks like there's a dead chopped up body in the floor. What did you eat XXX? How can one person do this much? Oh yuck, it's on the walls all the way in here too. It stinks. Gross. What did you say you ate?" He went on and on...

Rubbing XXX's shoulder, I say "XXX, if you feel better now, please go to your room and lay down. I'll finish cleaning this up." XXX goes to his room saying, "I'm sorry" over and over again. "Don't be sorry honey", I answered his mumbles.

I began gathering the supplies I would need to clean up the nasty mess and my husband is still mumbling trying to figure out what XXX ate. At this point I wanted to burst into laughter, but I was still upset with the other 2 boys that knew very well the mop and bucket would just make a bigger mess. Just as I had almost gathered everything I would need and had removed the bucket and mop, I hear my husband begin to gag.
In my head I'm thinking, "Who wants Chowder?"

He ran to the kitchen sink. He gagged over and over again, but didn't vomit (Thank God! If he had, I would be cleaning the kitchen sink too.) I began to remove the chunks and dispose of them.

About 1/2 way through the chunk removal, my husband says, "Oh yuck, it's in the cat's bowls. Just throw them away." I just kept on cleaning. "It's on the walls Chrissy!" he says. I kept on cleaning. "Honey, LOOK! It's all the way over here too! Just throw that rug away."  I kept cleaning.

In my head, I'm thinking "Who cares what he ate? Thanks for showing me it's in other rooms though. Why are you freaking out?" He gagged a few more times, but I must give him props, he stayed right with me until I was completely finished cleaning the hard wood, the tiles, the base boards, the walls, the toilet, the sink, the hallway, and parts of the living room. He gagged, all three of the boys gagged, but we all survived and no one else got sick!

All this I found comedic because of the irony of the movie vs what my son was trying to tell us, the younger boys hiding in their rooms and abandoning their older brother, XXX gagging as he was trying to clean up his own mess, my husband's odd chatter and wanting to throw everything away, and the cat's reaction was funny too. He paced the floor for over an hour meowing loudly because his precious food bowl and water dish were contaminated!  Between these boy, my husband, and this event - it's a real wonder that I didn't go ape crazy! 

I guess God gives mother's an iron stomach to deal with their families daily. I just never appreciated before how iron my stomach is.