Janice M Cali
Deep Dark Secrets?
As I mentioned in my last post, I've just gotten home from a 16 day stay in the hospital to have my medications adjusted since they weren't working very well. Now this is done in a psych ward, not the regular hospital.
I'm very fortunate that my doctor is the medical director of this psych ward, and he's a good one.
I'm going to take you through my first, day/night, as it was an eye opener to me. Remember please that I am 63 years old, independent, single on purpose, and haven't had anyone successfully tell me “no” in years; except myself. If someone does tell me “no” I tend to keep at them until they give in, or until I get an answer I'm willing to accept. This is important to remember.
First, I was told I had to check in via the Emergency Room. So I arrived there around 2:00 pm and at the desk told the check in lady why I was there, after looking confused she evidentially found something with my name on it and things seemed to be on their way. I went and sat, a nurse called me into a little room, took my vital signs, and asked me to wait some more. My friend Jerry, and his daughter had driven me to the hospital, and now came in to wait with me. Eventually I was called into the ER and talked to a real honest to goodness doctor. Lots of questions were asked, he checked my heart and my lungs and said something about a baseline, I assumed he meant blood work or something. I sat and waited.
They also, at this time, decided to test their fire alarms, this was somewhat distressing since the sounds make me twitch and at this point, since I'd now been there for over an hour, these noises also made me somewhat irritable. After about ½ hour of waiting, I got up and informed the doctor, who was just standing around, that I was going out to the waiting room, when they wanted me again they could call, he nodded OK, and I went back to waiting with Jerry and Jenny. A nurse came out and asked what I was doing out there, I informed her the doctor had said it was all right, she had to check this, came back and told me it was OK and I could return to my seat. Now we were closing in on two or two and ½ hours, I was getting more and more irritated, if not pissed off. I placed a call to my therapist telling her what was going on and one to my nurse telling her the same, also stating if something didn't give soon I was out of there until they could get their act together.
Again, a nurse called me into the little room to have my vital signs taken, they were somewhat elevated, well my blood pressure was up, almost to a normal blood pressure. Which means for me it was up. After taking my vitals, as the saying goes, she, the nurse, informed me that someone from the unit would be there soon to take me over to the unit. I asked if she would also tell my friends where to take my luggage, yes, whoever it was, would. Fine, I went back out to wait.
The wait was, surprisingly, short. A young girl, who I later learned was R*, came and told me she was going to take me to the unit, I informed her my friends needed directions as to where to take my luggage, she told them and then we took off at a trot for me, probably a slow walk for her.
Eventually we reached “the Unit.” I was shown to a small room and left to sit. A male came in, introduced himself as M* and told me he was going to have me sign several papers and then ask me a bunch of questions. He'd left the door he'd come in open and I saw my doctor, who also saw me. My doctor said that he was afraid I'd changed my mind, I told him that I'd been in the ER since 2:00 and what a surprise that I had finally made it, I'd almost left. He was shocked, annoyed, and slightly pissed off, he apologized and said he'd look into the problem.
Meanwhile M* is pushing papers at me, asking me to sign them, and is surprised that I actually read what he is asking me to sign. Most were permissions to be treated, others were statements that I was there voluntarily, and more to let them bill my insurance.
Then the questions started, was I suicidal? Was I feeling the need to hurt others? Did I take illicit drugs? You know all the invasive questions that many people would lie about and others wouldn't. I didn't although since M* was irritating me, he seemed to have an arrogance that I totally disliked and a superiority complex that shined through his insincere friendliness.
After about 45 minutes of this inquisition, which I realize is necessary, I was allowed to enter the Unit, Jerry and his daughter arrived with my luggage, and this shocked the hell out of the nursing staff. As they had to go through it and count everything, they were not pleased since, besides clothes, I'd taken a bunch, large bunch, of magazines to use for my collages, tearing out and cutting pictures, and I'd brought my traveling studio. This included, drawing supplies, art books, paper, watercolor pads, brushes, watercolors, and my drawing board. I had a shit load of stuff and they had never seen anyone bring in this much stuff. I informed them that I got bored easily and needed to be sure I had things to do. Oh, I'd also brought my crocheting, which made them very nervous, since it had a “hook” and maybe it could be used to hurt myself, others, or others could steal it and use it to hurt themselves or others. Paranoia is the key to nursing in a Psych ward.
So, I was told that dinner had just arrived and that they had ordered a tray for me and then they showed me to the “dinning room.” The dinning room is also the activity room, has a rest room and a door, locked, to the back yard that is lovely, but has only a small patio and we can only go out there accompanied by a “Tech,” or a nurse. A quick note, a Tech is what used to be called an Aide, but hasn't had the C.N.A training. They are quite responsible, and know how to treat most psych patients. They tend to be young but are quite responsible.
I wish I could tell you what it was, but it was forgettable, and not all that good, obviously, since I forgot it. I do remember that with salt, something I rarely use, it was edible. So I was seated with three other women, two of whom were cognitive and one who was so deaf she didn't have a clue what was said to her. Only one was even close to my age, the other two were older. The lovely deaf old lady was 93, and a great deal of fun when she wanted to be. So the ward now had four patients and we started to try to get to know each other. One wasn't very talkative, matter of fact she was very shy, and very closed to others until she got to know them. The youngest was funny and appeared to be open to talking and sharing, and humor, which was a good thing or I would have gone completely nuts.
I had the annoying, to the nurses, not the patients, or the techs on calling the ward the nut house and referring to us, the patients and the resident nuts, or crazies. Somehow this didn't go over well with some of the nurses, but since the other patients, or nuts, thought it was funny, I kept it in my repertoire of sayings while I was there. Later my sister suggested we call it the Macadamia Farm, which I changed to the Macadamia House. When asked why Macadamia, my sister answered because they are the hardest nuts to crack and they are also the most expensive to raise and have. Made good sense to me and the other nuts at the House.
After dinner I was told that I could unpack my clothes, so I was taken to my room, which was a very nice one, no shared rooms on the unit, probably a safety thing. Large bathroom with a huge shower. I liked it, the window looked into the yard but it had one way film on it so no one could see in either during the day or the night. So I unpacked into my large, yeah right, night stand and tried to decide what to do next.
Oh, did I mention I still couldn't get anything but my clothes because they hadn't finished the inventory? And I found out I couldn't have my spare glasses, nor could I have my hair clip, and since I have very long hair and I'd just had a perm so I had a case of long big hair, I was becoming unhappy about a few things.
Already I'd given up my computer and had to board my dog so I couldn't write, nor could I cuddle with Roux and she frequently kept me calm when I was stressed. Then I went to the desk and asked for my pillow, which I'd been told I could take, and was told I couldn't have it! What? I'd been told it wouldn't be a problem, what gives here? No pillow? Sheesh, what did they think I'd do with it, choke myself with the feathers? Tickle myself to death with the down? Frankly I can't see anyone tearing open a pillow to try to swallow a bunch of goose down and feathers, I really don't think anyone could do it either, however it's not something I'm willing to try. I was to learn that a frequent term I'd hear over and over again was, “It's not that we don't trust you but we have to be aware of the others too.” Yeah, right, two were incapable of moving without help, one in a wheelchair, with a walker that didn't have wheels but was picked up and put down loudly, plus each room had a camera, and was that fun or what. And the third who was going home the next day, so I was pretty sure she had no idea of hurting herself or anyone else.
Not only did the bedrooms have cameras but the activity/dining room and the TV room also had cameras. But I did find the blind spot in the TV room, but it was only a blind spot if you sat in the recliner in the corner and did not recline it. I thought of it frequently, but didn't play with the nurses minds, too much. In the bedrooms the blind spot was directly below the camera, right where they tended to put the one chair.
Back to “nos”, no hair clip, no pillow, so how about the crocheting I'd taken because I was told I could? No, no crocheting! I argued, boy did I start to lose it or what? I stated that I was assured that I could crochet while there, so after much discussion, they said I could crochet in the activity room or the TV room as long as there was a tech or nurse present, but not by myself and not my bedroom. Next morning they told me it was because Dr. S was concerned about the needles, he didn't know the difference between knitting needles and crochet hooks, so he saw me crocheting with my big hook, said, “Oh, that's all rounded and isn't dangerous, sure you can crochet anytime or place.” Now if you heard that wouldn't you assume he also meant your bedroom when you need some peace time? NO, that's not what he meant, according to the nurses, and the fact that he didn't write an order allowing it. Damn! So I did a lot of crocheting in the TV room.
Art supplies, lots of them. No you can't take the bag to the room, you'll have to carry what you want to use from the desk. HUH? Do you have any idea how awkward that's going to be? Especially when I walk with a cane? Please, get real. This one, as the pillow one, was nurse M*, who would turn out to be my personal pain in the ass for the next 16 days.
Later that night when I headed to bed, and nurse M* was gone, I was asked if I wanted my pillow, I know I looked surprised, actually said something about nurse M* saying I wasn't allowed to have it, nurse S*, who I liked a lot, said something like, “What? What does he thing you're going to do with it? Beat your self to death? Beat another patient with it?” Oh, did I mention it's a very soft down pillow? They come in three grades, soft, medium and hard, and depending on which one you pick, has more or less down and feathers, this was the “soft” one, not enough down or feathers to beat even a baby duck to death. So I had my pillow.
After sitting on my narrow hospital bed for a while, I got my sleeping T shirt out, put it on and crawled into bed. Freezing to death. Seems the thermostat in the room wasn't all that great, we'd turned it down to 68 degrees, because it is more comfortable for me to sleep in, at home, and the room was in the 80's when I got there, it was a touch cold that night and I didn't think of asking for another blanket. I slept, right up to 6:30 in the morning, I haven't seen 6:30 on purpose in ages and wasn't happy to see it them. It would be an hour wait to breakfast, and NO COFFEE on the unit! I couldn't believe it, they had snacks, they had juice, they had all types of goodies, but NO COFFEE! My second day had started with disappointment.
Will write more about my stay later, but I won't do it day by day, honest. Thanks for listening.
