It was March in the year 1999 and to continue on the story of my first hospital stay I reluctantly cooperated with my family's advice and checked in to a nearby hospital, after all I was missing work without a justifiable cause, and I didn't want to lose my job. My Dad took care of the entire process of admission. I was hurt, upset and angry inside. I was upset from the admission process up until my release. I didn't understand what was happening. I was so upset I was thrown totally off course from my life. I didn't ask questions or advocate for myself very well...actually not at all and there were no explanations. My hospital stay would be for one week which I eventually found out from the Psychiatrist on staff. He saw each patient once a day. I found myself on a hospital floor with bars on the windows. I was appalled. I felt like a caged animal. Only the patients who smoked were given the privilege to go outside. I was not use to this. At home my daily schedule was to go for a run and an occasional hike, and I was used to coming and going at my leisure. I didn't respect the opportunity I was being given to share what was on my mind. During my visits with the Doctor, I refused to speak. I don't know where I thought this was going to take me?! My admission took place in the evening and basically, I was shown to my room, my bed and given 2 gowns. I eventually changed and went to bed out of pure exhaustion and boredom. They awakened me to start me on a regiment of medications. I remember during the night being disturbed from sleep by 2 men who came into my room. I am assuming they were 2 Doctors during shift change. I was sleepy and was not very aware of what was going on, but I clearly remember one saying, "Here she is. She was admitted this evening." I also think they were talking about medications. Before they left the room, I also remember one said, "She's very pretty. Let's go before we disturb her sleep."
The next day I was given a tour of the floor and met the staff members. There was a TV room with books and games. I was given meals 3 times a day and snacks. Eventually, I calmed down and my demeanor changed. I came to accept I was stuck there and started to take advantage of the time given me. It took some time to sort and figure out the routines of the floor. I noticed some of the other patients were walking back and forth down the long corridor of patient rooms. I asked the nurse what they were doing. She said they were exercising. I joined in and eventually asked the nurse if it would be ok to run instead of walking down the corridor. So, I started to run back and forth down the corridor. It wasn't until my third lap I noticed one of the other patient's taking my lead and she ran also. Eventually, a few other patients did this as well. I did this most days. I think it helped me clear my head. Then one day I was given an opportunity to go to a craft room and create something. I loved this and could have done this every day. I made a trivet/beverage coaster from ceramic tiles. Upon my release I gave this to a friend, a man I had been dating at the time. I missed him.
I was starting to receive visits from my family in the evenings. We had discussions about my stay in the hospital and questioned my diagnosis. We mostly played games. One afternoon, my dad visited. We talked and watched a little TV together but there wasn't anything good to watch so still having a little bit of an attitude and feeling tired I decided to take a nap. I went to my room and slept assuming my dad had left. When I awoke, I had discovered my dad was still there. I was surprised and delighted. I appreciated his demonstration of love, patience and kindness. He was always a very gentle man. I had respect for him.
Eventually, I talked the staff into allowing me to go outside with the smokers even though I didn't smoke. We were confined to a small area on the sidewalk right outside the doors. One time I stepped outside this boundary to find a little distance from the smoke and was immediately disciplined. The only thing I got out of this experience was smoke blown in my face. I decided this was not for me and never went outside again.
I also began interacting with the other patients. Some were friendly and helpful while others slept the entire time. I noticed one patient in particular. He never spoke and was always alone. I tried to befriend him but the only thing that took his interest was playing scrabble. I asked if I could join him and quickly realized he was not very cognizant of my having sat down with him or of my existence. I watched and noticed how he played. He was different. He just kept holding the tiles over and again. He would place the lettered tiles on the board without producing any words. He uttered to himself without meaning. I also noticed something peculiar. He had a piece of paper beside the game board with a series of numbers and letters on it. I was perplexed. I tried to converse with him but got nowhere. Eventually I sorted out that he was a greatly disturbed man. I watched him. I was curious about his story. During my visit with the Psychiatrist one evening, I was looking out the window of the room we were in toward the man playing scrabble. I was observing that patient while the Psychiatrist was observing me. I was so curious about him. I asked the Doctor if he could tell me this patient's story. The Doctor said that patient was thrown off a 2-story roof by his mother when he was young and that he won't speak. They couldn't break through to him. I realized then my perspective had changed. I told the doctor I felt he was trying to speak through those scrabble tiles. I shared with the Doctor I couldn't help wondering through my observations of him that perhaps he was creating some sort of code with his numbers and letters. I couldn't help wondering if that man was trying to speak but no one was listening. No one took the time for him. To this day I think he had something to say through those scrabble tiles. I have never forgot him and still wonder what became of him. I wish I could help him.
The week continued and at my release I did not have a diagnosis for myself.
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