So, continuing where I left off with the last post: I finished my dinner before I was done with the paperwork, some of which were more important than the rest, so once I finished the essential paperwork, I was told I could finish the rest of the paperwork in the lounge area.
It’s kind of difficult for me to recall every single moment at the hospital, but luckily, I started taking notes the following morning, which I’ll call Day #2. So the daily routine involves community meetings, one in the morning and one at night, where we talk about stuff and introduce ourselves. The daily routine also includes group activities, as well as one-on-one meetings with a staff member, one during the first part of the day, and the other during the second part of the day. So according to my notes, during the Day #1 PM community meeting I said I was in a good mood and was asked why we were there or how we were admitted, or something like that, so I explain how I went from the quality of life survey, to the ER, to being formally admitted, which I wasn’t too happy with, but I wanted to be cooperative. Then during the Day #2 AM community I said I was in a good mood but that I was disappointed with the behavior of the staff and then I noted “nothing has changed.” I guess I started being verbally harassed by the staff some time between the night of Day #1 and the morning of Day #2, with varying intensity throughout my stay. I do recall saying during a community meeting how ridiculous it is that I’m in a mental health facility and I’m still being bullied. Of all places, a mental health facility is the one place where I should be safe from verbal harassment, and remote 3rd party harassment, which I’ll get to eventually. So a day or two later, I wrote in my journal, because one of the nurses was nice enough to bring me a journal, that I was brought there to be hurt and harmed, not to be helped and healed.
Anyway, so, I finished the paperwork, then participate in the Day #1 PM community meeting, then I choose the next day meals from a menu (food was good and I ate plenty), then sleep, then wake up for vitals, then eat breakfast, and then participate in Day #2 AM community. The next thing to do is wait to meet with the treatment team, which is the group of doctors, and since I was the most recently admitted, I’m one of the first patients they speak with that day, Day #2. While I wait, I ask for a piece of paper and a pencil so I could start taking notes. I started noting the words and phrases that are being said to harass me, and I also start to write the words and phrases to accurately express my situation. At this point, I understand that the way I was taken to the ER for suicide and told that I could not refuse to stay at the hospital was very strange; I understood that I had an appointment to meet with a counselor regarding the hazing. However, I was cooperative because even though I sense insincerity with most people, as with the teacher for example, I trusted that they would still follow the rules and standard procedures, and would handle the situation professionally. I continue to think about and reason through the situation that I’m in. So then I think, to be formally admitted, there would have to be some kind of medical condition or reason; I’m not suicidal, and to observe me to make sure I’m not suicidal isn’t a reason to formally admit someone to the hospital. What’s more, I never formally consented to being admitted, I was just admitted, and I felt like people were just having their way with me. So with this reasoning, and the verbal harassment and insincerity I’m experiencing there, I’m very sure something isn’t right, but I wasn’t too sure yet, so I start probing. I see there’s a Patient’s Bill of Rights and Responsibilities poster on the wall, so I walk to the poster to read it. While I’m reading the poster, I see the wheelchair guy who took me upstairs from the ER, sitting outside a patient’s room, as if to actively watch a patient; the nurses and other staff members would sometimes actively sit outside patient’s rooms to watch a patient, and it was almost intentional as if to tell me that’s the reason the people are watching me in my room; suicide watch or whatever. Which isn’t a stretch of the imagination; sometime after I mentioned that people are still watching me in my room, or actually, it was probably a day or so after they exposed themselves, my roommate had a strategically placed suicide prevention brochure on his bed that said “We’re all in this Together.” Anyway, so the wheelchair guy was one of the two people who said “no” when I asked if I had a choice, so I walk up to him and ask him if he was the guy who took me upstairs, and he oddly says “no,” and I shockingly say, “really!?” I walk back to the poster to finish reading the poster, and I look back at the wheelchair guy and I say aloud, “nah, you were the guy who took me upstairs,” and he doesn’t really react or say anything. I had probably already voiced that I had asked if I had a choice and I was told no; I think I mentioned this while doing the paperwork. So with this guy denying he took me upstairs, I’m already sure that I actually did have a choice and was admitted without my consent. After reading the patient’s rights poster, I start to look around for a suicide prevention poster because they are posted everywhere and I they usually say that if “you or someone you know” is struggling, to call a number, which would be the standard procedure, not taking someone to the ER, and this would given me enough reason not to cooperate. However, there were none of these kinds of posters. So now with this further reasoning, I start to conclude that I was deceitfully taken to the ER and falsely admitted without my consent. So I continue to write and prepare for my meeting with the treatment team, and there are only two things I wanted to talk about, which were the validity of being taken to the ER and the reason for being admitted.
So at 0900, I finally meet with the treatment team. I walk into a room with at least seven people who were either doctors, nurses, or students. After a brief introduction with everyone, somehow I’m asked a question, and I start doing most of the talking, talking about the cyberstalking, issues with my family and employers, harassment, trying to join the Army, joining the Navy; pretty much nothing that I haven’t already mentioned on this blog. I then refer them to my blog that will have more information and voice recordings. Then I talk about the quality of life survey, and then going to the ER… and this is probably like the 6th time I’ve had to repeat this. Since I’m already convinced that going to the ER was the wrong way to handle the situation, I state that I was deceitfully taken to the ER, and then I ask why was I admitted to a mental health facility. Around that time is when the words “psychiatric hospital” and “psych ward” were used, and I know there’s a stigma with those terms and there shouldn’t be; the facility and the services themselves are good and are very helpful for those who are stressed out or want to stop drinking alcohol. Anyway, so they tell me that I was admitted out of concerns from my command and they weren’t specific. I said that’s some BS… whoops, couldn’t think of a better word, but I was still very polite. I tell them that the medical facility is separate from my command so they need to provide me with some reasoning which doesn’t include my command. I think they continue to tell me it was for concerns. I know I said “medical malpractice” and “negligence” after that. Then they asked me to give them permission to speak with my family, and I tell them no. They say it would help them to speak with someone who knows me. I tell them my family is not supportive, if they have any questions, they can ask me, and whether I give them permission or not, they are going to speak with my family, if they haven’t already, because of the cyberstalking.
So the meeting ends at around 0930, and at this point, I decide I’m going to leave, but I wasn’t sure if I should stick around for lunch or not. So I ask what time lunch was, and they tell me 1200. Too much time to wait, so I decide to go to my assigned room, enjoy the view for a couple of minutes, and then ask for my stuff. I walk to the nurse’s desk and ask for my belongings. They tell me to wait for the doctors, and I tell them I don’t want to wait, I already met with them, and what they are telling me doesn’t make any sense, so I want to leave. Then they tell me they can’t let me leave. Then I tell them that I want to speak with law enforcement. They start being fake and giving me the run around telling me to give them a couple of minutes and “let me see what I can do for you.” So, since I determined that I was deceitfully taken to the ER and falsely admitted to a psychiatric hospital, I have enough reason to not cooperate because I was cooperating with leadership who’ve shown themselves to be incompetent, so now it’s time for me to take control of the situation; and I explain this to one of the nurses. I am allowed phone calls with the one phone they have available for patients. So I tell them that at 1030 I will call law enforcement because I am being held against my will, which is called false imprisonment. They kept on saying to wait for the doctors and still wouldn’t give me my stuff; how am I going to go anywhere without my phone or wallet, even if they kept my clothes. Then a patient got on the phone and it seemed like it was so I wouldn’t call law enforcement. Then when the phone was available, they wouldn’t dial the phone number to law enforcement for me. One of the nurses said to give doctors more time and people were saying “please cry” and “please stop.” Well, then I figured if they wouldn’t call law enforcement for me, then the patient phone should be able to call 911 without having to have an admin place the call, so I said I was calling 911 at 1045. I asked them to dial 911 and they refused, so I walk to the patient phone and tried to call 911, but the admin cut out the phone; there was no dial tone. I looked back at the admin who avoided eye contact. At this point I thought, “OMG, YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS.” I felt like my freedom had been taken away from me, and it wasn’t like I was under arrest. Am I free to go? Uh, no. Like, I’ve taken an online law course called Law for Non-Lawyers Introduction to Law, and learned about false imprisonment, and while learning about false imprisonment, I thought, “how strange of a law?” I couldn’t imagine ever encountering a false imprisonment situation, and this was legitimately, false imprisonment.
To be continued…