Neropsycholosts diagnosed me as a mentally disabled person. Now I have financial assistance for medical and

During one of my recentish stays at Baylor Hospital a social worker came to my room. This isn’t unusual. What was unusual was that she came to me to tell me that I qualify for mental disability. The social worker told me I qualify for disability because it can help me access basic health care. It can also help me pay for medical care to deal with my increasingly problematic pancreas. She has already set up an appointment for me at the psychiatry clinic in Parkland.

I qualify for mental disability because I have documented medical records that show I have severe atrophy. Brain damage. People with cerebral atrophy, lose brain cells (neurons), which causes connections between their brain cells. Brain volume decreases. This loss of brain volume can lead to problems with thinking, memory, functioning, and —

The greater the loss, the more brain is fucked. This is a phrase that plays on an infinite loop inside my skull. Every time I look for some item I put somewhere I put myself down for being such an idiot. Then I remember that my brain is fucked. But. Life will go on. And I'll forget that.

Anyway. Back to Saint Mary’s. Anesthetics activate memory-loss receptors in the brain, ensuring that folks don’t remember what happens during surgery. The activity of memory loss receptors remains high long after the drugs have left the patient’s system, sometimes for days, sometimes longer. We all be unique. Oh! More fun. I almost forgot — get it?? I almost forgot??? Awhile ago I was hospitalized for hepatic encephalopathy, which is a brain disorder that happens when the liver is fucked.

Loss of brain ability occurs when the liver can't remove toxins from the blood. This is called hepatic encephalopathy (HE). This problem occurs suddenly or it develop slowly over time.

The cause for my high ammonia levels in my body was from iron buildup in my liver. (Also, I have hep C and hemochromatosis.)

Hemochromatosis is a disease that’s easy to keep tolerable. The main treatment is phlebotomy to remove iron, through blood. But, this easily accessible treatment is only easily accessible to people with health coverage. I am not one of those people. Ergo, my body is failing from iron overload and is trying to poison me in myriad ways.

The hepatic encephalopathy incident was so scary I remember a lot of it. Like being literally chained to a hospital bed so I get ammonia drained, and…meds pumped in. I was so fucking fucked in the motherfucking head at this point—I refused to stay in bed. So the big guns—aka needles—were brought to fight the battle to fight the battle with ammonia brain. Anyhow. I’m mental. Je suis officiellement fou. And I was scared.

So I’m going to knit. A lot. And think about being officially mental. Mentally disabled. But hey. Balls to the walls, ammiright?