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Poll Do You Ask For Help When Ill?

Do You Have Trouble Asking for Help?

  • I rarely ask for help, even when I really need it.

    Votes: 70 70.0%
  • Sometimes I have trouble asking for help.

    Votes: 25 25.0%
  • I'm good at asking for help.

    Votes: 5 5.0%

  • Total voters
    100
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My firm answer is no. When there is no choice and I am afraid something might actually be broken, I'll go to the ER, by driving myself.

Once, a few years ago, I did something in the barn and thought I had broken my ankle. With any kind of "ouch" my rule is to elevate it where possible, assess the amount of pain it feels on the 1-10 scale. Count slowly to 20, then to 50, then to 75 and finally 100 and assess it again at each interval. If at 20 or 50 there is no change, I'll take a tylenol or something similar before continuing the count. At 100, the pain was still 11.

My car was a pickup truck with manual transmission. There was no way I could shift, much less drive myself to the hospital. An ambulance was out of the question. 911 is not in my vocabulary - what if someone else in the area needed an ambulance while they were transporting me? I couldn't live with myself.

The next farm over was a cattle rancher and always home, as was his wife. I didn't really know them very well. We'd wave when we saw each other out but that was about it. I recall debating for over an hour (after the count) about calling them to ask if they would take me to the hospital. I think it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

When I did finally call and explained what I had done, they dropped the phone. Oh gosh, I knew I shouldn't have called. What other options were there? I was in a poor dirt-farmer community 10 miles from the nearest city. Who could I call? I tried to call the cattle rancher again to apologize and there was no answer. Then there was a knock at the door, immediately follwed by a man's voice, "Can you get to the door or do you need help? I got help here..." The cattle rancher, his wife and adult son dropped whatever they had been doing, got into their truck and came over to take me to the hospital.

It wasn't broken.
 
Been there and do it too!

assess the amount of pain it feels on the 1-10 scale. Count slowly to 20, then to 50, then to 75 and finally 100 and assess it again at each interval. If at 20 or 50 there is no change, I'll take a tylenol or something similar before continuing the count. At 100, the pain was still 11.

An ambulance was out of the question. 911 is not in my vocabulary - what if someone else in the area needed an ambulance while they were transporting me? I couldn't live with myself.

I think it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.


This is so funny (not really) but I can totally relate. I have also driven myself to the docter's with my stick shift and a cut on my shifting hand where I could only stop the bleeding with direct pressure. OK - two handed shifting OOP's back to the steering wheel. HA, got there some how.

Why are we this way? We aren't entitled to the same services as anyone else? Bullsh##. But, It is what it is ... until we decide to process it and change. I'm still not ready to do that either, yet. Someday I'll get to the bottom of my list where this little ditty exists.
 
Why are we this way? We aren't entitled to the same services as anyone else? Bullsh##. But, It is what it is ... until we decide to process it and change. I'm still not ready to do that either, yet. Someday I'll get to the bottom of my list where this little ditty exists.
My question is this: Is it so rare? Is it part of PTSD? Is it pride? Is it the inability to admit we need help? Is it something else?

It's nice to know I'm not alone.

But it's not just illness or injury. When one of the hurricanes was bearing down on us with my farm right in the projected path (as was the whole state), I needed to put my truck in the middle of the pasture. Of course, that was when I was nursing a torn rotor cuff in my right shoulder and my right arm was nearly useless. Yup, same standard shift truck needed to be put out to pasture before the hurricane came. I could have asked the cattle rancher or his wife or his son....

I got it out there but sure hope nobody was watching. You can't fake when a full size pickup stalls out on you. It's blatantly obvious. Again and again and again.
 
reflecting on this issue - I asked for help in a crisis

Last week I became very ill at work and was taken to the hospital in an ambulance. I live alone (suprise, suprise) and she insisted on calling my daughter (not real close, and definite trust issues) I told her she could. I felt I should open the door once more and give it a try again, to let her in. I anticipated her arrival at the ER as I recieved my second shot of morphine in the IV. She never arrived. No one came, except a stranger I started working with two weeks ago. What an eye opener. I did get home that night very late after a taxi ride to my car and a 30 mile drive with residual morphine in a hospital gown.

The next morning I was roused with a phone call from my daughter - She was blasting me because I didn't return her calls from the hospital. OK, no cell phones, no messages from her, and I was in extreme pain with morphine. Hmmm? Because I did not respond to her remarks with other than a, oh, she then went off on me again about having an attitude with her. OK ... I simply ended the conversation and returned to sleep. Do you think she may have been a little defensive?

Next installment, all the you should haves, I couldn't because, next time you better .... "talk to you later kate." Next, We need to talk about this before it wrecks our dinner with my boyfriend tomorrow. Again, meeting her needs her schedule.

OK, Doors closed and locked again. Ask for help? Why - it only gave me grief and pain. Atleast if I don't ask I will have no expectations and know I am dealing with it solo.
 
Over the past 18 months I have learned to ask for help. It still does not come easily, but I am not leaving it so late any more. That has certainly helped my relationship with my H as he is now more relaxed about going out on his own, and not worrying about me.
 
I wrote a message the other day to someone and I expected a reply of concern, but just got a flippant response. I reread the message I wrote and realized that it just said that I was wallowing in self-pity and didn't go into any detail or give any indication that I was in any real need to connect with someone about it. I didn't ask for help.

My h let me off the hook for going to the store and gave me a good way out, I cried when usually I would have laughed it off with relief and chatted with him. He became concerned that he'd been too flippant or something and as soon as he touched me, I told him it's okay. It's just me. I'm okay. But, I had been in full blown panic when he let me off the hook, and after he left I calmed down to a reasonable level. It had really been a huge relief not to have to go to the store. But, he probably doesn't know that b/c I ended up getting that task accomplished in a very wonderful way just a few hours later.

I don't really hold back how difficult life is sometimes, but I always tell people that I'm okay and I can handle it. Sometimes they think that I can't possibly handle it by my description, and I am surprised and wonder... "What did I say that was so bad?" b/c I live with a lot of depression/anxiety and stuff. And sometimes, I wonder why they believed me.
 
I am learning that trauma has trained me to think about this in a different way than normal people do. If I am conscious, I am fixing it myself. I am the only person who can fix it. I know what to do. I can get through it. It does not occur to me to call 911, or go to the hospital. Why would I need a hospital if I can do it myself? I guess that is from years of learning that if I have a problem I need to fix it or it will not get fixed.

The logical thought process is I am hurt, maybe I need to see a doctor. My thought process is I am hurt, how do I fix it. Hospitals and doctors do not even enter into my mind anymore. Recently I hurt myself badly and I should have called 911. Instead I performed wound debridement myself and treated myself for shock symptoms. I finally went to the hospital after it occurred to me that I should not be sitting there waiting precariously to see if I would be alright when I was perfectly capable of going to a hospital.

I told them what happened and showed him the leg. He asked me if I had seen someone before him and I shook my head and said, as if it were normal, I did it myself. The doctor looked at me (I was shaking and pale and trying not to puke from the pain) and said "You are f*cking nuts, do you realize you could have died? You are not a doctor, you were a medic. A medic is not a doctor. You can't do everything yourself."

It was an eye-opener. I am going to try and be better about this.
 
I used to NEVER ask for help. It's been a long, long process but now I can ask for help when I need it.
 
Although, I will admit when I was having the violent hallucinations I picked up the phone 3 different times before I actually made the call BUT I did finally call.
 
I totally ignore having something wrong with me, the last 2 times my husband nagged me some much I finally went to the doctors and both times ended up needing surgery.
I had pain from my gallbladder for 3 weeks before I finally admitted that there was something wrong and went to the doctors. I think its probably a reflection on what I think about myself, I don't really look after myself and hate being touched.
 
Asking for help or reaching out is very foreign for me. I tried when I was young... wrote a story about abuse with my father dying at the end (when I was in 2nd grade), shared a story about childhood abuse that I read in a magazine for show and tell in the 3rd or 4th grade, wrote a suicidal poem in the 6th grade, and never got any response. Even the things I have shared with my family get dismissed. I recently tried to tell them how badly I was struggling, like life was not worth living, and instead of comfort and wanting to help, I was told, "you don't mean that." I was crushed because I did mean it, and most days still do.

The reason I'm writing this is because I think many of us have been programmed that it's pointless to reach out for help especially if your requests or cries for help have been denied or belittled. It's easier to suffer alone, than suffer AND be rejected. Does anyone else out there relate?
 
I am with many of you. Unless it is literally life and death and I ABSOLUTELY can't take care of whatever it is myself (I also live alone), then I will ask for help, hire someone etc. My neighbors have constantly said to call if I need anything but have I ever-no. My upbringing taught me you don't ask for help, everything stays in the family etc.

Well, now I have no family left to help so I am on my own anyway. It's easier to come here and ask for help because nobody knows me and they won't judge me for what they do know. I won't run into someone who can say they know who I am and "Didn't I go through X, Y and Z?" or "Hey, why didn't I do A or B?"
 
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