My First Trip to the Psychiatric Hospital - Part 2
/Here’s something most people don’t know about psychiatric hospitals — the beds are designed to be uncomfortable. The logic behind this diabolical decision is rather simple. Most of the people in the hospital are withdrawn and purposefully isolate by laying in bed all day. To attack this predilection, the beds feel like you’re laying on cardboard, which subtly encourages patients to leave their rooms and try to socialize. That certainly did not stop me, nor most of the other patients!
We’re pros at staying in bed all day, and we’re not going to let a little discomfort keep us from the security of our beds. That said, there really is only so long you can lay in a room. Aside from my appointment with my psychiatrist, with whom I was to meet each and every day, I stayed in bed for the entirety of my first day. I was exhausted. My mind and body needed to completely reset, and being in a secure building, inside a secure room, with staff checking in on me every fifteen minutes, gave me the sense that I could shut down with ease.
“May I take your blood pressure?” the nurse asked as she wheeled a mobile blood pressure monitor to my bed the next morning. I had a general attitude of “f___ the world", but I was not going to make someone’s job more difficult, so I acceded.
Each morning and evening, nurses distribute medications and check every patients’ vital signs. This is for two key reasons:
Nurses confirm that we actually swallowed our meds, and that we have no opportunity to abuse our prescriptions.
Medications can have drastic changes on a person’s blood pressure, heart rate, and even temperature. The vitals are given to the psychiatrist assigned to our case, who reviews that there aren’t any outliers to be concerned about.
In this facility, medications were handed out at the nurses station, which forced each patient to leave the (dis)comfort of their beds and see other patients. The first few days, no one is in much of a mood to socialize. We’re all raw, vulnerable, scared, freaked out, and pissed off. Not really a great starting point to make friends.
Ring ring, ring ring!
Staff: “That’s the bell. It’s time for group! Let’s go everyone, group time!”
Me: “Ugh, do I have to?”
Staff: “No, but you’ll lose dining hall privileges.”
Now, I do not mean that I would not be fed if I did not go to group classes. We got fed three squares a day, and usually some crackers for an afternoon snack. To motivate the unmotivated, the facility had a rule that in order to go to the dining hall and get what you wanted to eat, you had to attend all the groups for the day. If you missed one, you lost that privilege, and you’d get a mysterious selection of food served in a styrofoam container, that might or might not be warm.
For a while I refused, and I got cold eggs for breakfast, a lunch of fried chicken, and what looked like a burger and fries for dinner. Hospital food has always underwhelmed me, and it has sometimes been downright inedible or so unappealing to look at to even consider ingesting a portion. This always confused me. Cooking good food is one of my favorite activities, and eating a healthy meal regularly improves my mood.
Why then, has every hospital I’ve been to served the most meager, below-school-cafeteria-level meals? People are sick! The last thing they need is another reason to consider not living. Okay, my rant is over. Just don’t expect any above average, or average eats in the hospital.
Like any other situation in life, you learn the rules and adapt to the expectations. Everything about a psychiatric hospital is designed to provide the most stable environment possible. Meds are served at the same time every day, just like the meals. Groups may be different, but they are held at the same time. The chairs in the common room are more comfortable than the beds, further encouraging patients to spend time in the brightly lit area and maybe even (gasp) converse with other patients.
Next week I’ll take you on the tour of the lounge area, and give you some insight on the kinds of relationships I established during this extraordinarily weird time in my life.
