So, again, continuing where I left off with the last post: So now I’m on Day #8, and I hope this is the last post I’ll need to write to explain what happened at the psych ward. Alright, so I mentioned in D Talks #22 that I haven’t spoke with the lawyer since that phone call, and according to my notes, that isn’t entirely accurate. What is accurate is I haven’t called the lawyer since that last phone call, but the lawyer did actually call me the morning of Day #8. I told him that the medical team told me that the lawyer could speak with the legal department, and I would get that number; I never asked for the number and I haven’t talked with the lawyer since. I might call this lawyer back, and if I do, I’ll write about it.
Like I mentioned already, I was being carefree, mostly reading, participating in groups only to get signatures and not participating in extra groups so I could read. I was thinking I’d leave the hospital this day, but once it was 1100, I was sure I wasn’t. What’s more, the next day was a holiday, so I figured I’d be there another two days.
I met with the medical team that day, at around 1130. They told me more about the outpatient plan and that I’d have appointments on a regular basis to support me because they believe I may have schizophrenia, which is a disqualifying condition for the military, and that I’d be seeing a medical board in six to nine months, and possibly longer because of COVID. They explained that I’d be on a limited duty status until the medical board process was done. While they were telling me this information, I was very calm and polite, and I asked if they could repeat what they stated so that I could take note. And they were definitely trying to get me upset, with what they were saying and by the way they were delivering the information. Like saying “disqualifying condition” and putting an emphasis on certain words after a brief pause. But like I said, I was being patient, logical, and humble; and I’M NOT SICK. JESUS! During the meeting I was asked if I was “hearing people telling me to do things,” which was asked to mess with me, obviously. So I had to clarify before answering with the same answers I’ve been saying so that my statement wouldn’t be twisted. During the meeting, they also mentioned that my mother called my command. I told them that a nurse told me about it the day before. It was actually my sister who called, and I had to ask this sister if she heard what happened after a couple of text messages. While my other sister was avoiding the conversation, this sister did answer saying that she called the command, but didn’t care to ask me any questions about it. So it’s just more apparent to me that this was all a planned spiteful scam, and they were involved, or aware, LOL. This meeting took place after a group, and I had enough signatures to level up, but didn’t ask the medical team to level me up, just because it didn’t occur to me. Apparently, with the next level, a privilege patients get is they are allowed to go outside, and I was told there were pull-up bars; yay! And you know who told asked me if I asked the medical team if I could get leveled up? The same staff member who didn’t know what a grievance was. This staff member asked me after the meeting while I was eating lunch, then I said “no, was I supposed to?” This staff member didn’t answer, so I thought this staff member was going to tell the medical team to level me up, but then I later learned that I was never leveled up. How did this staff member even know I was ready to be leveled up? So I guess I was just asked to be made fun of. (Oh yeah!) Whatever, not personal, I’m not a genius, I didn’t care too much to go outside unless it was to leave anyway, so it didn’t bother me.
So, I might as well mention that during one of the groups, the group leaders were telling me to not write to my blog, indirectly, under their breaths. One of the group leaders asked me what I like to do for fun, and I guess they wanted me to mention my blog so they could then tell me not to write to my blog, but I just said I like to exercise. Whatever, they probably figured I was going to write about this experience, regardless. … I could write more stories about my experience at the psych ward, but let me get through what happened between me and the hospital, and I’ll revisit those stories later.
So the next day, Day #9, was a holiday, so it was like a weekend day; woke up later than usual, no groups, some movies, I mostly read and napped, and didn’t even take notes. I didn’t take notes the next day, my last day at the hospital, Day #10, either. So Day #10, I can’t really recall exactly, only vaguely, without notes. What I do recall is meeting with the medical team and asking if I could get leveled up. That’s when they told me I was leaving that day; yay! They told me that my command was sending someone to pick me up. They had me sign some documents, which I have a copy of. They told me something about leaving a comment. I asked about the comment, and I guess it would be my chance to disagree, but there wasn’t any space for the actual comment; the form was printed from an electronic form, so you’d have to click on “yes” for the comment field to appear. They then told me that I could further discuss my case later on during my future appointments. So, like I said before, I do think these people are good people, they were put in this situation, unfortunately, and I don’t think it went as they had imagined. Anyway, so I was still very polite and calm. I said thanks and said it was nice to meet them, and the meeting ended. I was then going to go back to my room to continue reading next to the view when I was told to start gathering everything to start leaving; and I felt like “darn… I don’t want to leave… I want to be lazy.” So I went from lazy mode, to a more productive mode. I changed into my clothes. I ate lunch and it seemed like some of the patients were indirectly saying farewell. I even said that I almost didn’t feel like leaving, and one of the patients asked if it was the food, and I said that it was mostly because I was getting comfortable being lazy. They gave me my belongings. Then a nurse, who I’d like to say was one I liked talking to, was reviewing some of the paperwork with me. Then this nurse asked if I was going to continue writing to my blog. I told this nurse that I wasn’t sure, that I’d have to think about it; I guess I had to remember why I even write to the blog to being with.