well. i had finally made it into the cuckoo's nest, and it wasnt really all that bad. i mean, we had laundry privileges, we had occupational therapy (which later became my favorite part of my treatment plan) , we could watch TV or listen to music, and yes, we also had other groups on the meds that we were taking. the only thing i hated was being awakened at the asscrack of dawn to have my vital signs taken and an occasional blood draw. also it would piss me off when the mental health workers would go down the hall and bang on our room doors saying "get up! get up, time for breakfast, get up!" it was bad enough the majority of us were still groggy from the sleeping pill the nurse gave us the night before, but for somebody to pound on your room door shouting to "get up!" was nerve-wracking. but after a while it didnt bother me. and most of the mental health workers were pretty cool. there was this one lady whose name is Eugenia (ha, that's my middle name) she was alright with me, and this other worker. an odd looking guy named Dave who would always razz me about being there, but he was cool too. now i know as a patient we werent supposed to be flirting or trying to step to any of the workers, but there was this one brotha that was fine. his name was Devin or Daivin or something -- shit i forget. but he always looked good and smelled good and was a cool cat all the way. i hadnt felt that kind of attraction to a man in some years, but that made me know that at least i was still a woman and was still normal in that effect. i got on fairly well with most of the nurses too, especially this cat named Archie --- Archie was my favorite nurse cause he was so laid back and down to earth.
so my first experience in the cuckoo's nest was nothing like the movie that Jack Nicholson played "R.P. McMurphy" in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." nobody was mistreated, nobody was tied down (unless they had become overly combative, but it was few and far in between) and we were treated with respect. and the majority of us were ambulatory (meaning we were able to walk and talk and pretty much do for ourselves). so it wasnt so bad.
by the end of the week, the attending doc would come on the floor and check charts to see who was ready to be discharged. i think my attending was a portly white guy named Dr. Wilkenson, who asked me questions like , did i still have feelings of wanting to hurt myself/others, did i hear voices, and shit like that. i said no, i was doing (at least i thought) much better and i wanted to go home. he gave me a sharp glance and then finally wrote the order for me to be discharged. i was glad to go home. immediately following my discharge from the psych unit i was set up to go back to PHP that following monday. he wrote out scripts for Lexapro and Klonopin for me to have filled and then one of the workers got my clothes and purse and called security to give me back the stuff that was taken from my purse. the first thing i did once i walked out the front door was to light up a cigarette. of course i got dizzy cuz i hadnt smoked for a fucking week, but after the initial dizzy spell, i was ok. i walked to the bus stop and waited for the bus to take me to the Walgreens on 51st and Cottage Grove where i could fill my prescriptions. i had very little money, but by God, i got those meds. after that, i caught the bus again and headed home. so....that's the first episode of my being in the cuckoo's nest.....
stay tuned for the next installment....peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment