Chapter 2 • My First Psych Ward Experience.

Once I got onto the ambulance, I couldn’t stop rapidly talking. I most likely wasn’t making much sense seeing the EMT workers look at me with concern. The ambulance brought me to a nearby emergency room. I had no idea what was happening.

I was brought into a small room that had two large see-through windows where everyone could see me. I was held down on the stretcher by 4 orderly men screaming as I was thrashing being held down. One orderly laughed at me as he held me down by putting his hand on my inner thigh near my private parts. I yelled. I said no don’t touch me. I remember seeing my father outside the room I was in. He looked angry, not concerned, and I realized this was the moment I lost the relationship I once had with him.

I was given an injection, which was a sedative, so I was able to finally calm down. I remember sleeping in the ER with nothing but a sheet and an awful pillow, and the room was freezing. It was a miserable lonely night. My thoughts were that I was going to be sent home in the morning, but I was woken up to a nurse with a wheel chair with her. She said I was being moved to the psychiatric unit.

I asked her why I can’t just walk to the unit, she said going in a wheel chair is protocol when being admitted to the psych unit.

I entered the psych ward scared of what I was getting into. Everyone was much older than me. I was brought to the nurses’ station and given a bracelet with my name, admission date, and a long number on it. I felt like I went from human being to a product of this hospital.

After that I was brought to my room. I was shown the patient bill of rights, which led me to believe I had rights, which made me feel more comfortable with having to be there.

Then, I was shown around the unit. There was a tv room with some board games, playing cards, magazines, and books, and I saw what seemed like very overmedicated patients who were just sitting quietly, almost asleep.

After that, I was brought to see where both group rooms were, then I was brought to the common area, which was the socialization section, which had some tables and chairs and a radio. It was full of adults.

I was shown the group schedule , and after being on the unit a few days, I realized it wasn’t exactly something the staff followed. Out of the 5 or 6 groups that were supposed to be offered throughout the day and night, only 1 or 2 were actually ever run. So the rest of the time, we were expected to socialize or find ways to occupy our time.

The showers were public showers that had no curtain, so I asked, “Do we all shower at the same time?” I was told most times there are more than one women in the shower room at the same time, but not to worry, people won’t be paying attention to me as I shower. I then said I’m not comfortable showering with other people in there at the same time as me with no curtains for privacy. The worker said “well this isn’t a hotel, so you’ll have to adjust and get used to things.”

After my brief tour, I went to my room to lay down . Shortly after laying down to attempt to take a nap, I was asked to go to the medication window to take my meds.

When it was my turn to take my medication, I asked the nurse, dispensing my meds, how I could already be put on medication without knowing why or even before I spoke to a Dr. She said, “Just take your meds. You don’t want to be labeled as a problem patient.” Another female patient who was behind me on the medication line said “ Sweetheart, please just take the meds because if you refuse you’ll be held down and given an injection”. So I took my meds, and I wasn’t happy or comfortable doing so, but I didn’t want an injection for not being compliant.

Within I’d say a half hour of taking my medication, I felt extremely dizzy and just not myself. After being told that if I refuse meds I’ll be forced to take an injection. I began to quickly realize the psychiatric field was not at all something I agreed with.

I then went back to my room to do artwork, seeing my family had sent in art supplies and some books and a magazine, so I’d have stuff to occupy my time with.

As days passed, I started to make friends with some of the other patients. One patient I became close with was the woman I met while on the medication line who advised me to take my meds. She told me the best thing I can do while on the unit is follow the rules and not cause any problems because that can lead to injections or time in the quiet room. I asked her what a quiet room was. She then pointed to a small padded room that was completely empty. She said, “Trust me, you don’t want to end up in there.”

I also became friendly with an older male patient. He was nice and he was also an artist so we shared our artwork with each other.

One day him and I were at the table in the common area, drawing and talking. All of a sudden, two male orderlies grabbed him out of his chair and gave him two injections. He screamed and tried to fight them off of him. He was then dragged off to the quiet room and put in a straightjacket. Witnessing this really freaked me out.

I then ran to the pay phone to call my mom, who had a history of being in rehab and psych wards. I explained what happened to this guy I’m on the unit with. I told her it didn’t seem fair or right that they did this to him for what seemed like no apparent reason.

She told me there is a number on the wall by the pay phone that is an advocacy number I can call to report issues happening on the unit. She said that when I call that number, the agency records the complaint and gets involved.

I hung up with my mom and instantly called the advocacy number. I was on the phone with them for only a few minutes when all of a sudden the charge nurse came over and hung up the phone. She said “ Little girl you’re going to regret making that call!”

I was then escorted to my room and told the team would be in to speak with me.

Soon in walked my psychiatrist, social worker, and two orderlies. I was told I was going to be secluded to only my room for the next 3 days. I wasn’t allowed to go to groups, have visitors, socialize with other patients, or use the phone, seeing I abused that privilege already. I explained that I called an advocacy number that’s posted by the pay phone. How is that abusing my phone privileges. I was then thrown on my bed and held down by the two orderlies, and given an injection, I was told was just a sedative to help me relax since I was coming off very agitated. Then the psychiatrist ordered the orderlies to take away all my art supplies and books and said they would return them once my 3 days were up.

For those 3 days, I paced around my room with nothing to do, I napped, even had all my meals brought to my room so I couldn’t socialize with the other patients. It was the longest 3 days of my life that I felt would never come to an end.

One day, the female patient I became close with told me that all the patients were told if I got any phone calls to tell the person I’m sick, so I can’t come to the phone. So for 3 days, I had no visitors due to them assuming I was sick.

I was only able to leave my room to shower and take my meds. I hoped I could sneak in longer showers to get more of a break from my room, but the worker who was watching me would rush me out after only 5 minutes saying it’s time for me to go back to my room.

Soon, my 3 day punishment came to an end. The team came to my room returning all my art supplies and books and said I’m free to go back to groups and join the other patients, and I could use the phone again and have visits, but advised me not to abuse my phone privileges again. All I thought was I had no idea advocating for another patient was deemed a punishable situation. I told them I’d respect the rules because I couldn’t handle another 3 days of being grounded in a psych ward.

I immediately went to the pay phone to call my best friend Ana. I asked her if she could visit that day.

Later on, I was told I had visitors, but the worker said it with an attitude. She also said visiting hours are not a party for me, and I shouldn’t have so many people coming in to see me. I had no clue why she said this until I got to the visiting room and saw it was full of 10 of my close friends.

Seeing the visiting room is watched over by a worker, I knew I couldn’t tell my friends about my recent punishment I endured. So I had written down a letter explaining everything I went through and gave it to my friend Ana and told her not to read it until she went home.

Soon visiting hours were up and I had to say goodbye to my friends. I was just extremely sad I couldn’t leave with them.

The rest of my psych stay became pretty repetitive. Wake up take vitals, get weighed in, go to breakfast, take morning meds, sit around and socialize, go to morning meeting where we checked in everyday and gave a goal for our day, sit around bored, go to lunch, take afternoon meds, go to another group if it was offered, socialize or find ways to occupy our time, go to dinner, then night meds, then bedtime.

Being on a hospital schedule was definitely an adjustment. I wasn’t used to having to abide by so many rules. Looking back on the day I was given the patients Bill of Rights to read I began to realize all our rights are taken away once we are given our bracelet to becoming admitted to the unit as a patient.

Even though my hospital stay was only 10 days, it was a very traumatic experience that stays with me to this day. Due to experiencing this, I became a stronger person, and looking back now, I realized this psych stay started my life of becoming an outspoken mental wellness advocate. I wish I could say that was my one and only hospitalization I had to experience, but sadly, that wasn’t the case for me.

To be continued…..