TRAVEL AND HEALTH
Handling Post traumatic stress disorder
By Lynet Ndichu
A nurse is onboard SGR train to Mombasa and spots a lady with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Here are some of the symptoms and how to manage such cases.
A
fter a long night at work,
I was eager to get home
early morning and sink in a
warm blanket. My body needed
rest since I had been on a night
shift. To add to that, the following
day was my best friend’s birthday
party and we had pla nned to
spend it at a beach hotel in
Mombasa.
My friends and I were eager
to board the SGR train and
experience the journey to the
coastal town. We booked our
tickets four days before the
birthday date. Our departure
time from Nairobi was 9:00am.
On the travel day, I fought with my
emotions on whether to cancel
the trip and sleep or succumb to
temptation to travel to Mombasa.
Before I could even make a
decision, my friend Ann called
to remind me about the trip. I
decided get ready to leave for
the railway station. I boarded a
Taxi to beat traffic to get there in
time.
My friends were excited about
the SGR. Due to exhaustion, I
wished the seats would recline so
that I could sleep.
My eyelids could not remain
open anymore and I just had to
give in and take a nap. After a few
hours I woke up to some ululations
from my friends. I looked around
the train and everyone was either
conversing with the next person,
on the phone or having a drink or
two. I stood up and went to the
train lavatory.
September 2017
I noticed a lady who seemed
psychologicall y disturbed and
out of curiosity, I decided to join
her and start a conversation. “Are
you alright? Is there anything
bothering you?”
“I’ll be fine thank you,” Mercy
responded. I insisted on her
talking to me and my efforts bore
fruits.
“At the age of four years, my
mother passed away and left my
siblings and I under my drunkard
father. My dad couldn’t raise us
all by himself and he decided to
marry a second wife. My step
mother never loved us and at
times we could not feed and at
some point, we had to drop out
of school. Most nights were spent
out in the cold since my dad
cared less.
Hell h ad broken loose. I
remember how my step mother
used to beat and chase me out
of the house. I spent sleepless
nights looking for a job. I used to
wash clothes, go to the farm and
experienced all sorts of hardships
in an attempt to generate an
income. The déjàvus about the
incidents that had happened to us
were still fresh in my mind. Stupor
was my daily bread. I can’t help
it but I think I am going insane.
Nowadays am quick to anger and
I can’t control it,” she said.
“Mercy, Mercy, you aren’t
going insane. I think you are going
through post traumatic stress
disorder. Post traumatic stress
disorder (PTSD) is an anxiety
disorder caused by very stressful,
frightening or distressing events.
Someone with PTSD often relives
the traumatic events through
nightmares, flashbacks and may
experience feelings of isolation,
irritability and guilt. They may
also have probl ems sl eeping
(insomnia) and find concentrating
difficult,” I responded to her.
“Wh at causes PTST?” Mercy
asked.
Some of the causes of PTSD
are: greasil y road accidents,
sexual abuse, natural disasters
such as earthquakes, viol ent
personal assaults and terrorist
attacks. PTSD can develop
immediatel y after someone
experiences a disturbing event or
it can occur within weeks, months
or years later.
PTSD is estimated to affect
about 1 in every 3 who have
a traumatic experience but it
is not quite clear why some
people develop this condition
while others don’t. “How can one
manage PTSD?” Mercy asked.
Any treatment depends on
the severity of the symptoms
and how soon they can occur
after the traumatic event.
Some of the remedies include
monitoring your symptoms to
see whether they improve or get
worse with treatment, constant
talks with a Psychotherapist and
use of antidepressants such as
paroxetine.
“I think my symptoms are
getting worse day by day. I think
I will get a counselor,” she thought
aloud.
“I don’t mind introducing you
to my counselor,” I told her. I
shared with her the counselor’s
number and promised to talk to
her before she did. Mercy was
so grateful and I decided to join
my friends in the celebration as
we neared our destination. I was
happy to help out a needy heart.
17