The Hospital

HospitalThe Hospital Visit

I am not a medical professional or claim to dispense medical advice. If I appear to have…..just ignore it.

I was titled with the phrase  Manic Depressed around 20 years ago. I Did not know what it really was. I just knew I was having really fun days then really bad ones. When I was having a particular bad day, they found a nice room at our local mental facility.

I am not naming it so as to protect the innocent (Ahem…) Doctors and their Lawyers.

This is what they spew out and publish in WIKIPEDEA

At first I was scared; thought I was losing my mind. I was locked into a facility With lots of people telling what to do and forms to fill out. They sedated me. → I found out later It was so I would not cause trouble ←. ‘”There was a “lock down room” where I could hear someone banging the walls, screaming at the top of his lungs. There was a woman locked up in a make shift room locked in the foyer.

I was told that these patients were having a Hyper-Manic Period and were secured for their own protection. This scared me the most, having ones liberty taken away, just because someone was too noisy. I was told to go to bed and not worry about it. I agreed and the sedative was kicking in.

When I woke the next morning, it felt like the worst hangover I had ever had. I felt Jittery. The way I describe myself whenever I missed my morning meds.

I was told by the Nurse that the Doctor had ordered new medication, (not disagreeing that I needed the change) but it is close to pulling a tiger by the tale to take Meds away from me cold turkey  . It was not the fact that I was only 1 hour over due for my meds. It was the  fact that I didn’t know when I was going to get my next fix.

After a couple of hours the Psychiatrist on call arrived. He had a Nurse dutifully following taking the Doctor’s notes. He checked on the man in the locked down room and decided he could be released into the “general locked wing”.

He approached me and motioned for me to join him in the Lunch room. The Nurse was not there. It was very quiet. I could hear the clock ticking on the wall. He then moved an old food tray to the side and sat down putting his feet up on the table.

The Doctor then broke into a monologue of why I was there; what I did to end up there and what they were going to do to me there. He then took out of his pocket a small vile of pills the colours and shapes were foreign to me. He told me this was my new medication and I should take them Right there and then…..I did (not good to disagree in a mental hospital).

He and I then agreed I did not need to be kept in the lockdown ward and released to the general area. This area had privileges. One of which was being allowed to go outside into the yard. I smoked back then and allowing me the privilege to consume a cigarette at that time was all I needed to pledge my allegiance  to all staff in the Hospital.

I quickly found a spot out of the wind, heard that lovely scrape the wheel makes as it passes over the flint causing the lighter to ignite. Then the flame as it approaches the white combustible paper wrapping the tobacco. All of which will be shortly ignited and inhaled into my lungs.

I heard a giggle coming from behind me. It was coming from the shadows. Then I felt a playful, poke in my back, then a female voice asking for a cigarette. I turned and looked at her, and that was it. My freshly medicated mind immediately fell in love with ( wrong meds ).

She was fair haired,  blue eyes, very pretty, about 24yrs old and very manic. I was 34, bald, and was over medicated. It was not a healthy combination.

To shorten this Romeo and Joliette and tale….. I knew it was wrong to have sex with another patient……even if she was a very good looking (did I mention that before).  She did not care and spent most of the day making it very clear she wanted to.

The doctors seemed very curious if we had sex. With the meds I was on then, I was not sure myself. So I just denied everything with as much ambivalence as I could muster up. It was not really their business after all.

I did find out the hospital had previously taken to court and sued because a pregnancy had  occurred between two patients.

Anyway, she started taking her meds, became stable and she lost interest in me.

The moral of this story: it is never good to start or end a relationship while manic.

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One response to “The Hospital

  1. Pingback: The Summer of Prozac | Living with Mental illness

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