We don’t call them asylums anymore but we may as well. The name asylum fits the description so much better than ‘ward’. A ward to me symbolisms a hospital type place with clean washed floors, neatly made beds & patients sitting in chairs next to them, or tucked up with clean white sheets up around their neck.
I have visited many Psychiatric Hospitals over the past 11 years. My mum was transferred to a hospital on one occasion quite far away from home & I literally could not believe my eyes. There were tiny rooms with 6 beds, 3 either side & they were divided by curtains, if you could call them that, more like off cuts of material which didn’t even fit. It was filthy! I mean really really dirty, the walls were stained with smears, the furniture was torn & black with grime, the patients looked like no one was bothering to make sure they kept any regular hygiene routine going. It was bad!
The first thing that struck me were the staff. Here I was bringing my mum over (they asked me to drive her even though she was under section 🤷🏼♀️) to be admitted to this psychiatric ward. We walked in with one small hand luggage, paperwork in hand & obviously one very distressed patient. It was clear I had been crying, we were both emotionally drained, tired & scared & we were totally ignored!
After finally locating someone, it was very apparent that I was being a pain & was completely ‘in the way’ and was very inconvenient, they wanted me to to drop my mum & leave. After I found a chair for my mum who by this time was even more terrified, I literally had to take the arm of a nurse and asked ‘is anyone going to actually ask us who we are?!?!’
They finally took us in to a room & to do the booking in palaver, this always seemed to be such a chore for the poor souls 🙄 finally we were taken to my mums new boudoir. Look, I know it’s not a hotel, it’s a hospital with very poorly people & it’s not going to be like home BUT for Christ sake! These are people, very sick people and they were putting them in awful conditions which I wouldn’t put my dog in!! It felt like no one there could or would actually complain because they were so ill the majority of the time & they probably didn’t even notice a lot of the time because they were so ill. But my mum noticed! Even as poorly as she was, she saw the state of her bed, the ripped curtain that only came not even a third around her bed to give her some privacy. You know when you watch scary films & a hospital features, there’s always the creepy long corridor & at the end of it is normally a female patient wearing a white gown & has crazy black wiry hair, we’ve all seen it right? Well it felt like that scene, only worse because I was placing my mum in this hospitals care.
I didn’t see one patient who looked like they were getting any help with looking after themselves in any way. It was horrific! My mum was begging me, BEGGING!!! Not to leave her. Have you any idea what that is like? To have the the person you love so much, who has cared for you & given you nothing but love and devotion your whole life, beg you not to leave them in a hell hole! It’s absolutely gut wrenching. But what choice did I have? She was suicidal, a danger to herself & I had a 4 year old at home who I was desperately trying to protect. My mum was living with me as I had bought her back from France where this hell all began. I was terrified! I didn’t know what to do, or if this was normal! I was just beside myself. I hadn’t slept for almost 24 hours, I had been keeping watch on my mum who was trying to hurt herself at any given opportunity. I wanted to scream at them all “what the fuck are you doing you fucking morons!!! This is my mum! Don’t you dare treat her like shit!!!”
So much of this past 11 years is a blur. So much has been blocked out by my brain trying to protect me & lots of it is just a blur because I was so sleep deprived so for many months, I literally can’t remember. I do remember this memory though. When I eventually left my mum in that excuse of a hospital, I was walking back to my car. I was totally wrecked in every respect. I was so exhausted, angry, devastated, guilty, sad, scared all at the same time. As I walked I started to cry again but then it turned into a distraught sob which then turned into almost a deep gut scream. I got to my car and slumped at the side of it & swore, every word I could think of. I don’t know why but the only word that ever really gets to the nitty gritty of how I am feeling & feels so good to say, is the C word, probably because it’s such a vile word & I know it bad & horrible. I said it time & time again whilst thumping my car. I was shouting “you fucking bastards! You c**nts!!!! That’s my mum!!! You fucking wankers!!! Don’t you dare treat her like that!!!!”
I needed that. It was the first release I had had for weeks. I never lost it at home for the sake of my little one. I was keeping it all together, seemingly. It felt good, I needed to hold someone accountable for this awful thing happening to my mum, to us. Taking it out on the staff seemed fitting at that time because it seemed they just didn’t care.
Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned round & was confronted by a nurse.”it’s ok” she said. “It’s all going to be ok”. I just fell into her arms. I’d never seen her in my life but there stood this lady, with a huge Afro, the smoothest skin id ever seen & the kindest face. I sobbed uncontrollably & ranted. I told her it’s not a hospital it’s a torture ward, dirty, understaffed & not fit for my mum or anyone else. The nurse took it all on the chin, cuddled me & said soothing things which I now can’t remember but it calmed me down. I told her all my concerns, she nodded accordingly & agreed that it all needed modernising & they were all aware of how bad it was but assured me the nurses were doing their best.
I definitely didn’t believe that all the staff were doing their best but after begging her to take care of my mum, given her a full description and character reference to make sure she knew what a good, kind, caring person my mum was, I left. My heart was like lead, my head hurt & I was so so tired. I went home & I slept. It was all I could do at that moment but for the sake of my son, I just had to get myself together again & sleep was the first thing on the agenda.
Mental health (poorly brain) 