Tag Archives: mental patient

New Poem by Pamela Spiro Wagner

FIXING YOU – A REWRITTEN POEM

Recalling my month-long “treatment” at New Britain Hospital a.k.a Hospital of Central Connecticut on Grand Street, in May 2014, under the supervision of Dr. Michael E. Balkunas

 

Naked in restraints in New Britain Hospital 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Only nine days after that last adders-pit hospital —

You still wear sunshades to protect others from you

though no one out here believes they are in peril.

 

Nevertheless, the staff there described you

as “assaultive,” dangerous to self and others,

unfit for company or visitors.

Neither accurate nor truthful

they wrote lies for the sake of their convenience.

 

Now you are a week from making new friends

in far northeastern Vermont,

in a place magically named the Kingdom

and it’s a move your bruised mind

requires, still unable to let go of

the half-nelson grip of hospital guards

bent on eliciting pain, who, when told to strip you

then four-pointed you naked to a mattress,

replaying their favorite rape scene,

yanking each limb apart to expose and humiliate, knowing

that the nurses’ own official policy was hands-off

and would protect their asses.

 

You want truth, you wish for reconciliation

but how, you wonder, does any Truth or Reconciliation proceed

when so many refuse to acknowledge

that hospital staff broke every rule,

stopping short of murder only

because you submitted nick of time,

your terror strangled in a towel they wound

around your head and face,

before they injected punishment drugs into your buttocks,

then muted the intercom and sealed the door

 

No one was ever there to bear witness.

That was always the point,

from your father to the hairdresser

and all the hospital staffs in-between.

They’ve made a religion of secrecy

and no one Outside wanted to know

what they didn’t want to know…

 

Call this, “our family business,”

call it, “a private shampoo,”

call it, “necessary treatment.”

they could always do what they wanted to you.

 

And when it broke you, as it eventually would,

when your sudden screams split the night,

and no one could explain what drove you

to empty your lungs,

ripping the air to shreds,

they stood aside and declared you

just “one of the family” now,

no better and no different than anyone else,

now that they’d finally fixed you for good.

 

Five Point Restraints At Vermont Psychiatric Care Hospital (cont)

After they had me trussed up in restraints…No, let me back up a bit, because it was not that easy…Hannette was the point person, shall we  say, the person who had my head between her hands and was cradling it, “oh so gently” as she “oh so soothingly” commanded me to CALM DOWN RIGHT THIS MINUTE!” Again and again, she subjected me to these absurd demnds as if I could possibly do so upon her order. And as if I ever would do anything but attempt to writhe away from her clammy awful grip on my ears that nearly deafened me to her voice even so.

 

Finally the job was done and they had fastened a thick plate of velcro across my chest so I could not even sit up or do more than bend my neck a bit to see their handiwork, briefly, before i lost strength and had to lie back down. But I was emotionally overwrought with the situation, and what had happened in the space of only minutes.

 

WTF? How could this have happened when all I ever wanted was an Ativan to calm down and help me speak? And now what?

 

But they just trooped out, with Annette leaving last,  saying, “You will tell us in WORDS when you are safe enough to be released, or you will remain in restraints.” She then departed too.

 

Although two monitors were posted silently in the adjoining room, I could not see them for my position, nor were they permitted to speak to me, as  I knew from prior experience. I let out a scream that echoed through the empty chamber like a banshee howl but it made no difference. Yes, I could hear Chelsea from somewhere, — a sweet  female staff member who remembered my Advance directive and the other times I had been restrained — saying, “Pam, take a deep breath, try to stay calm, I am here, you are not alone…” And I mentally thanked her. But as soon as I could remember that she was there, she was taken away, removed by someone who was told not to talk to me….and so it went. A Dr. Lasix came to me within the half hour and told me he wanted me to come out of the  restraints as soon as possible but I would have to agree to talk with him. What did I have to say to that?

I could not respond with a shake of my head or a simple nod so I remained silent. He shrugged and left.

Several people attempted to engage me in conversation, but as no one phrased their comments as Yes or NO questions, I had to remain still. I was not unwilling to answer, simply unable to. But time and again they told me I was “unresponsive” or non-compliant, though I was calm and had been rewarded with the requisite assessment to possibly come out of restraints every fifteen minutes. But no one let me, because they would not let me answer their questions without speaking aloud.

 

The hours passed. First one then two then three. Finally the nurse Jennnifer decided to relent and allow as how I might answer the safety questions with a shake or nod of my head.

 

“Will you remain safe and not hurt anyone?” she asked me, standing above me.

I nodded my head.

 

“Will you remain safe and not attempt to harm y0urself?”

 

I nodded again.

 

Will you get up go back to the unit to and to your room and continue to behave safely if we let you out of restraints?”

 

Nod nod nod.

 

Jennifer seemed happy with my responses but also at a loss as to what to do with them. She paused. “Okay, thank you Pam. I have to go back and confer with Hannette and see if she will agree to take you out of restraints now that you have agreed to be safe.”

 

She left, turning her back, promising to be back within a few minutes.

 

Instead, it took a good half hour, and when she did, both she and Hannette arrived with a plan. “We have decided that we want to free up one hand and you will write a safety plan with the free hand. Then we will approve it and if it is adequate we will see about taking you out of restraints.”

 

I frowned. Even as she spoke, Hannette had moved to the end of the gurney where my stocking feet lay exposed. Her belly squished against my toes and soles of my feet, and I felt an immeidiate disgust and worse. I felt instant revulsion, as if I were being deliberately molested by someone who knew I was helpless to resist. So I kicked at her mightily.  If I could have spoken in words I would have yelled something too, like “You effing …something or other…!” but alas, I could say nothing in protest, only scream, and kick. This did have the effect I wanted of getting her to stop and move away. Someone told her to move past me at the head of the bed next time and she did…

 

But the safety plan writing thing was their way of upping the ante abominably. How dare they? They had already illegally kept me restrained in FIVE points for far longer than necessary, just because they wanted to prove a point and force me to speak. without even offering me Ativan to calm down let alone to promote speech. Now this??? I flat out refused. And so somewhat triumphantly they trooped out, leaving me alone again, still in restraints at 6:00 o’oclock in the morning.

 

I knew I had to remain as still as possible to earn yet another assessment within the next fifteen minutes. But my muscles and veins hurt becuase I had remainedstill for so many hours, and no one had done any range of motion exercises on me, actively or passively. I was  becoming afraid that I would develop a blood clot if I did not move my limbs on my own, and no matter what they interpreted it as, I began a methodical program of movement. I carefully circled each leg ten times in each direction, the restraints clanking as I did do. Then I bent each knee up and down, up and down. Ditto with my arms, until I was satified that I had exercised them at least a minimum  and could relax into the required absolute stillness for the next fifteen minutes so I could earn an assessment.

 

Finally, Jennifer returned a final time. But this time it was only to tell me that they were leaving for the night. “First shift will have to take you out of the restraints. It is too let for is now.”

 

when end I herd this, I let out a bnshee scream of exhaustion and utter frustration, but it was too no avail. Only when first shift finally came on and found me still in restraints at 7:00 am did they relent and give me Ativan and take me out by 7:30.