Last week, I went to the hospital for a crisis evaluation. It's not my proudest moment, but it is not my weakest either. I just got overwhelmed with life, my job, my finances and was starting to feel the way I felt when I was working at the bank. I'm haunted by the feelings of inadequacy and the fear that maybe they were right about me. The fear that I'm dangerous and insane. The truth is that I'm charming, friendly and bright. It's just my insecurity and over-thinking that led me to the ER.
I think I had gotten over the worst of the despair by the time I got to the ER. I told the receptionist that my therapist told me to go. She had a straight face as if she had seen it all. I guess working the front desk at the Emergency Room does that to people. I wasn't waiting for long when I was called into the triage area. The nurse was nice enough. Then I was taken to the crisis wing. Crisis is a locked ward that has security guards because I'm sure they get some psychotic patients. So when I got to the ward I was taken to a room. I was only allowed to keep my book and jewelry. They took my phone, my bad, my shoes and my clothes because I had to wear a hospital gown and scrub pants. The scrub pants were not designed for anyone about a size 6. They were a bit tight.
Then it was a parade of people. First a Physician's assistant came in to take my vitals and check my breathing. Then an administrator came in to make sure that they had the right insurance information and emergency contacts. Somehow they had my mother listed as my daughter...now that's just silly. I had a lovely lab technician come in and take my blood. We talked and joked and I felt charming, which is something that I hadn't felt in a while. Between all these people I was reading a book waiting for the clinical social worker to arrive to do the psych evaluation.
The social worker was very kind and understanding. Also joining us was a medical student on his crisis rotation. I remember I kept swaying my feet while I was talking so that I could keep moving. I was after all hanging out on a gurney with a pillow where nothing else but a chair and a tray table were in the room. The psychiatric evaluation includes a lot of questions like health history, substance abuse, and why I came in today. I told them about what happened at the bank and how the flashbacks and fear triggered the way I was feeling. They also asked about things I do to cope with my illnesses, which led to the point that most of the things I do, I do alone. Basically, I need more social interaction. The medical student only asked me if I had the basics of delusions or hallucinations. I do not, which means I am basically just run of the mill depressed. We also talked about my education and what I was thinking about for my PhD thesis( cultural history of mental illness in 16th and 17th century England). Then they both left to make some evaluations and to call my best friend and my therapist about the option of discharging me.
In the middle of the evaluation, an orderly brought me dinner. Now this particular hospital has decent food, which I know because my mother stayed there for knee surgery twice and I got to eat some of it. My dinner consisted of grilled chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, apple juice and pudding. I ate all of it because I was starving. I had only had water and a granola bar all day. As I was eating the chicken I was looking around for a knife to cut it with, then I remembered that I was in a locked ward where they put the mental patients before they get admitted. That made me chuckle due to my dark sense of humor.
The social worker came in and out a few times to check on me and let me know the progress of getting in touch with people. I read an entire book while waiting. Yet, I had nothing else to do because they took my phone, which is probably due to the fact that there have been many cases of social media contacts encouraging suicide. So, I took a nap. Now, if you can sleep in a crisis ward, you can basically sleep anywhere because there was one girl in another room crying and one man was walking the halls saying it was time for him to go. Yet, I still managed to sleep as I was overcome by exhaustion.
They did decide to discharge me after they got in touch with my friend and my therapist. I felt OK by then. I left the hospital with my papers and thanked them for their services. I texted my roommate to see if he wanted to get some food, so we ended up at Denny's, where I was still famished and at the lumberjack slam.
It was definitely and interesting experience. I don't think I ever want to get to the place where I have to go back there, but it was still interesting. I know that I need more people to hang out with. It sucks that a lot of my friends are so far away. We need to make time for people in general, but for someone with a mental illness it is crucial to their recovery. Illnesses are socially isolating. So, I guess I get to badger my friends into hanging out with me. A lot of them did, so maybe that will help. Basically people need people. It's not just those who are sick, it's everyone. We all need someone to rely on and I lost mine. It's time to start again.
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