Gordonsan's Blog

Imagine laying in bed, trying to go to sleep, when a drug addict walks into your room and lays down next to you. A nurse leaves, turning off the light and shuts the door.

For over a week this was my life.

This is not a blog meant to criticize the health facilities in Houston, everyone there was more then helpful, or sterotyping people who have drug problems, my roomates name was Pete and he can’t play volleyball. This is a post of my experience in the psyiactric and drug rehap units in a public hospital.

After four hours of talking to doctors and a strip search for contriband I was more then anxious to get to my room and reassess why I was there. This however was not the way things go.

A nurse led me to another wing of the hospital and told me that I would be staying in Unit 1. What she didn’t tell me was that that particular wing was set aside for people that were so unstable that they could only leave the unit for five minutes at a time to smoke. People who chose this hospital instead of jail or people whose mood was so unpredictable that their family was forced to put them here. They all clocked me for what I was within minutes as I tried to keep my head down.

The nurses fortunately could tell like the patients how anxious I was so they gave me meds to sedate me enough to where I wasn’t picking the skin off my fingers. It helped me calm down and focus.  This was unfortunately the lesser of two evils.

I could now see the scars and burns over the patients wrists, the way a ladies eyes tried to move through her stymied sockets as she sung about her dead realatives in Louisiana.   

Of course it wasn’t all bad. They nicknamed me Jesus, a man who had wholly spirits inside him. Others stared at me like I was Satan, but the ones who felt I had divine power would stand behind me and pray aloud as if I could actually help them.

I had been there for three hours and already I was screaming on the inside for them to let me out.

The first night was the worst. I hadn’t been there long enough for them to diagnose me or speak to a doctor and the medication I was on made me drowsy but unable to sleep as the assorted pyschotic laughter paraded outside the bedroom walls.

My roomate blamed me for letting the noise in and told the nurse that if I dont learn to keep things quiet he would train me like I was his dog. The threats of physical assaults were the only thing that kept me asleep until morning, even though the only thing that awaited were the same problems.

The unit was circular in shape with rooms that fed out of the walls so there was nowhere to be alone. For most patients it was for their own safety but it was what I needed the most.

I heard from his telephone call that my roomate was being checked out. At first I was relieved but after taking another look around the facility there was no way of telling who they would put me with next.

For some reason he didn’t have a ride out of the hosptial. Instead of asking for a phone book or calling family he decided to rip the phone off the wall. Noone said a word as he walked back into our room and went back to sleep.

As he walked by I tried to seem sympathetic about the other night and him having to stay but he walked by without looking. I have come to realize that in here people will avoid eye contact until they decide what to do to you. This might seem like delusion or just me being self centered, but as I thought about the upcoming night all I could do was pray and hope that one of the many ambulances outside could get there quick enough.

Luckily someone had informed a doctor about my situation and just as quickly as entered I was gone to another unit. As I gathered my things I looked into the television room where to my surprise everyone had been gathered. Walking past I saw an old friend who was working temporarily at the hospital sitting with the rest of the patients and staff. She tried to look supportive but I could see fear and mistrust in her eyes. It was then that I realized what was happening. I had been quarantined. Kept separate not only for my safety, but for theirs. They didn’t want whatever was happening to spread over into the new unit I was sent to.

I didn’t ask where I was going this time. All I could feel was shame.