As most of you know, I am crazier than a betsy bug. I have stayed in my share of psy. floors. Let me tell you, they are not nice. At least from my point of view. They want to take everything away from you. I mean how is liquid base makeup dangerous?? They wanted my curling iron too. I asked them, how do you think I’m going to harm myself with this, slowly burn myself? I think my screams would alert you. Last time I was in there, they lied to me and said I could just relax, watch T.V., ect. I called the nurse desk and asked who I needed to call to ask for a T.V. ? She laughed at me and told me the only T.V. they had was in the “lounge.” That is called the day room. I walked Thur the day room on my way to the smoking room. The people sitting on the couch in front of the T.V. were scarey. I wouldn’t want to ask them to change the channel and what they were watching didn’t appeal to me anyway. When I got back to the smoking room, it was full of nuts. There were like 10 (bodies) of us crammed into a small room. I think it used to be used as a storage closet. Several nuts were sitting in one chair. That was the woman who had 17 personalities. She did. I promise you. I knew this because a visitor that came to see me had had medical encounters with her. She had talked to this woman psychiatrist. So she filled me in on it. I engaged this person in conversation. I mean, come on wouldn’t you want to know a person with DID?? For those of you who don’t know what DID is, watch old clips from the soap opera ‘One life to live.” Vicky did great impressions of a person with DID. I think Vicky must have studied this woman.
But, I digress. The nurses were the worse. The nurses used to be addicts ( I guess, to deal with the addicts) and they hated everybody. I was not in for substance abuse. I believe I was in there from a suicide attempt. I was trying to start a riot in there. I told other patients, that if the nurses told you to crawl to your rooms, you would do!!! Fight against the “system.” The nurses gave me someone else’s medication and I wouldn’t take it. I told them that it wasn’t my medication, that I knew what medications I took. That really steamed them up. I refused to take it. I made them call a head nurse. In the meantime, before the head nurse came in, the nurses were gathered around me like they thought they might have to take me down. When the head nurse came, she looked at my chart then looked at the medicine and agreed with me. It wasn’t my meds I smiled all around and said, “Now look. You have wasted this medicine. Now could you go get mine?” They hated me. ( years later, I would find out that this medicine was only making me worse.) I also demanded a private room. All the rooms were doubles. The room they first put me in, the phone was ringing off the hook. Who ever that was calling would let the phone ring about 20 times and then call right back. Finally, I picked up the phone and screamed, ” Is it not evident she not in this room???” and then I hung the phone up. I never even saw the person whose room that was. I got my private room,but it didn’t have a shower in it. I had to go down the hall, which was fine with me. I begged my doctor to discharge me. He said that they needed to keep an eye on me, with this new meds. After the third day. I left. The nurses were throwing a party and wanted to help me come pack. Oh Happy Days!!!