Before I could write that last post, Mental, Sweet Friend came over to hook up my printer, and make my computer work.
I swear it and all electronics, or just plain electrical things have a personal vendetta against me!! I can’t get the computer to boot up, he comes and touches, it works instantly. I get so mad!! So anyway, that’s one reason why my posts are not reliably on schedule. Plus, my mental state, and my physical junk. I was asking SF to transfer all my stuff onto the extra hard drive he installed. He said, “I already told you how to do it, I’m not gonna do it.”
That’s when I started crying. I can’t. My mind feels like gloppy oatmeal. Plus my fibro fog, and my constant pain… I can’t remember stuff!! I feel like I’m 92 yo, and all I can remember how to do is type, since I learned when I was a little girl. Melody, of Smallthingsbeautiful blog, sent me instructions how to add a search bar. I’ve tried several times, but I just can’t get it to work. It’s so discouraging..
So, do y’all know of a clinic or something that can cure my electricity problem?? I need help!
Ok, so I’m in a nice big wheelchair, wearing that too little pull up that’s squeezing me terribly. I did call DD1, and H brought me pullups, the next day. Yes, the H I threatened to kill. Thank God he was willing to help me.
I met my roommate, P. Poor thing, this was her first time, and she was terrified to death. Her DIL called the police, during a phone call. P had no idea what she said, to trigger it. She was so afraid she’d be raped, beaten, tied up, not fed. She had no idea what was going on.
And of course, no one tells you anything either.
So, I calmly talked to her, as she huddled in the corner, with her arms wrapped herself. No body is going to assault you in anyway. This is my fifth time, so I can assure you, you are safe. You won’t get any help at all. No counseling of any kind, just coloring, and playing stupid music games, that is passed off as “music therapy.”
Thankfully, she was able to relax then.
The beds are wood platforms. The “mattresses” are foam mats, like for Kg naps, about 4 inches thick. The bathroom “Door” was a wider foam mat, held up by magnets.
Are ya kiddin me here?? This was entirely new to me. The other places had open bathrooms, in each room, no doors.
So, at least here, you can have half privacy. But it was short enough for the techs to look over. Thankfully, no male techs ever came in our room.
Poor P would have died of a heart attack! I was so glad they only kept her 2 days. She did NOT belong there!! I hope her DIL gets in trouble from her husband.
The shower was open, so you could roll a wheelchair in. But the floor is slicky tile, and slanted twards the drain in the floor. Would I venture to take a shower there?? NOPE!! No thank you. I just washed up in the sink, not IN the sink! Using the sink.
So, to move myself around, I had to tippy toe. Once, going to the dining hall, a sweet boy, prob age 20!, pushed me.
After that first night dinner, we never went to the dining hall again. Something about only 1 cook, or whatever. Exactly what did that have to do with going to the dining room?? They still had to cook the food, still had to be served to us. Only now it’s in to go foam containers, instead of foam plates. Ok, whatever.
So, there’s about 20 people, and we had 3 tables, that sat 4 people each. Even I can do that math. 12 people got to sit at the tables, so about 8 or so people left, had to balance their food, and drink on their laps, in the TV room. So well thought out!! So nice to have people treated like an after thought. Some people , the ones in w/c, put their food on a chair. How appetizing to have your food sitting where lots of butts were. GAG!
Dumb builders, administrators, whoever, made 10-15 rooms holding 2 people each. But only 3 tables for us to eat on. For the whole 7 days I was there. Well, technically 8, but the first night doesn’t count, since we actually went to the dining room.
It makes me so angry, the way mental illness, and mentally ill patients are treated. Like second class or less citizens. And trust me, even tho we are mentally ill, we can feel that, and see it clearly.
Some of the techs were great!! Gia and Lee were so warm and caring. Gia is the one who went to get the diapers. And the “vampire”, self proclaimed! Phlebotomist, was the sweetest thing~~ he was 6’8″, so you know I asked for a hug immediately upon meeting him! lol He got in trouble for that. Sorry, K!! So, I could only shake hands with him, or stand 3 feet away from him. I wanted to marry him! Whoops, did you forget you’re already married?? Well, remember I had plans to be unmarried??
Anyway, I knew he was gay, so I had no chance….
waaaaahhh But hey, maybe he could be my hugging only boyfriend?? I don’t want sex anymore, due to several problems, which I won’t go into. Thank God!! You have diarrhea of the mouth so bad!! I was afraid you’d go and let all that out!! That’d be TMI!! Well, I said I won’t. K???
Alright, moving on…
I met so many sweet people. Sharon, Miss Elise, Amber, and Joshua. And 1 more person that I’ll talk about later, cuz she’s really special, and deserves her own post…..
To be continued….. not gonna say tomorrow, this time, since it’s been almost a week since I last posted….. I really want to blog every day, but my get-up-and-go has gone up and went….
Ok, here I am at the new (to me) nut ward, after 12 hours in the ER.
In case you’re new, hi!! Welcome!!
This is my 3rd? Baker Act. I think. 1993, Counselor Ansley, (the infamous cop car episode), now. Ok, yeah, 3rd.
And I think it’s my 5th rodeo. Pretty sure. Yeah, 1993 Charter in Tampa- it was nice!! They actually had classes!! And I learned great info. Until then, I had no idea my birth family was dysfunctional! I mean, I knew stuff went on that shouldn’t. And that Mama, me and Bubba were abused. But, I really thought that was normal! My aunts, and 1 uncle, (Dad’s side) were all physically abused too, by my grandparents. And Mama’s side were all physically abused too, by my Papa Chaney, who died in 1969. (Also, when I got sober. It was a dual diagnosis unit, Addiction/depression. 29 years sober, coming up July 1!! By the grace of God!!)
So, how would I know otherwise?? It was a hard shock.
Anyway, 3x in LRMC, and now here in NTBH. Yeah, so my fifth. Nothing to be proud of. But, when I need help, I need it….. And it’s always an immediate crisis moment. Not that I get any actual help….
Trouble is, after that first time, I never felt I got any help. NO COUNSELING AT ALL!! No classes. Plenty of crayons, and pages to color tho. And chocolate milk, and pudding. I wish I was joking… Oh, yeah, always a new med too. What kickbacks are the big pharma offering this year?? Again, I wish I was joking. I can’t prove the kickbacks, of course. But why else were ALL of us always put on the same new med??
At intake, MamaMindaphant was taken away from me. I was actually shocked they had let me keep it in the ER! After the guard molested her, to make sure she didn’t contain anything else, but stuffing.
My clothes, and shoes were taken. And my ID.
I told the clerk I needed 2x pullups, due to my bladder issues. “We don’t have any. All we have is XL.”
Excuse me?? In this whole huge hospital, nothing larger than an XL??????
She handed me an XL, said, “Stretch it. Make it fit.”
Umm, no ma’am, it won’t. I’m pretty sure I know what size I am. I’m homocidal, not delusional!!
Anyway, she handed me the XL, said, ” Make it work, it’s all we’ve got.”
I was shocked, AND ANGRY!! If you are larger than a size 8 or so, then you can probably relate on some level. Being handed an item of clothing, that is clearly TOO SMALL, and that you’ve stated is TOO SMALL; but callously told to stretch it and make it fit, is also humiliating!! It’s bad enough that I have to wear pullups, now I have to cram into a too tight one. Real healthy for a mental patient right there. (BTW, it’s not a place for us to get help. It’s a place to park us, keep us alive, cram pills down our throats, and make money for the company. LOTS! and LOTS!! of money. On Monday, I was told I would be going home on Fri. Nope. Not until the next Monday. ((Look up this hospital,
They make a regular habit of keeping people longer than they’re supposed to…Probably their website is not the best for that kind of info. Look up their reviews.)
As stated, it didn’t fit. But, I got it pulled up to just under my rear. It already was hurting, but the only alternative was to pee everywhere, so…..
When I got to the ward, I asked for a 2x, same answer.
I also had to ask for a wheelchair. My legs were shaking terribly, and just about to give way. Guess what?? It was a bariatric w/c! (holds up to 500 lbs.) You gotta be kiddin me!! You have these huge w/c, but only XL pullups??? I know good and well, if you have these big chairs, then you’ve had some BIG people in here!! (I only weigh 330, only! lol) So, what did you do with them??? Apparently, let them just pee everywhere.
The sweet little tech went down to the military ward, and snitched 3 diapers. Which were not any bigger. And were real diapers, tabs and all. I can’t put those on by myself!
She told me lay down on the bed, and tried to put them on me. NOPE!! Bless her heart, she tried!! And of course, that wasn’t humiliating at all!! To have a tiny little, 20 yo girl, trying to diaper my big, ole 61 yo butt!
So, I asked her what I was supposed to do?? She suggested I call my husband, and ask him to bring me some. You’re kiddin, right?? Please tell me you’re kiddin!! Nope.
The same husband I just was threatening to kill, oh about 12 hours ago????? Yeah, THAT husband. I had no other choice….
There wouldn’t be a star but it wouldn’t let me tell you how awful North Tampa Behavioral Health is irresponsible they are not accountable for their actions I’m a Veteran War veteran and they treated me like a piece of crap they’re very biased I do not recommend any veteran take part in this program they lost things that were very important to me the staff is very condescending not all of them but the few that are , I swear when I left there my anxiety level was higher than it was before I went they have segregation of veterans the trend that I saw going on there was constant old and older African-Americans and all young Caucasian veterans. Don’t know if that’s intentional but what do you think they threw my dentures away searching my room for peanut butter, then they tried to say that I had something to do with it then the lady who called me following up on my tablet said that because I was sick when I came there and didn’t get a chance to inventory my stuff,that one of their staff went and witness that I had in my bag, tried to spin it, once again on me, that it must have gotten stolen at the airport I swear there’s a building full of staff nincompoops not all of them but the ones that I had the pleasure of meeting please please veterans do not go to North Tampa Behavioral Health you will be disappointed and making a big mistake they treat you like children and I hated it not all of it but most of it I had NO therapy the medical side is excellent but Still I don’t recommend you go there you can go to a hospital for medical, the mental health piece a joke! my tablet it’s like you’re in a mini prisoner-of-war camp they take your phone and I don’t think that they know what they’re doing at all I think it’s a paycheck they get 35 million a year for 126 beds and they’re not all full VA please stop sending veterans 2 North Tampa it’s awful. NOT A GOOD PLACE disclaimer; I’m about to put a call in To the CEO and by track record speaking with the complaints lady and Jennifer who runs the veterans side I hope that he doesn’t try to spin it where all those events are my fault take responsibility you don’t have to do anything just admit it’s Common Sense stuff just because we’re in the mental health ward doesn’t mean we’re all crazy signing off now more to come
“As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one:” Romans 3:10 “… for there is no difference. For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;” Romans 3:23
Realize you CAN NOT save yourself. “But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; …” Isaiah 64:6 “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, …” Titus 3:5
Realize that Jesus Christ died on the cross to pay for your sins. “Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, …” 1 Peter 2:24 “… Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood,” Revelation 1:5
Simply by faith receive Jesus Christ as your personal Savior. “But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name:” John 1:12 ” …Sirs, what must I do to be saved? And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.”” Acts 16:30,31 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16
I realized it’s been a bit since I witnessed. So, here’s the plan of salvation. If you want to talk to me, have me pray for you, or with you, just comment below, or please email me!
Alright, deep breath, April 4th, early morning, 1 am-ish
I went to DD1’s room, started rocking, squeezing my MamaMindaphant holding Baby CrystalMint, (DeSlob Student Crystal)
I told her she might as well call the police. Shocked, she said, “Why Mama??”
I’m gonna kill H with a butcher knife! (Good thing for him, and me,) he wasn’t even here!
I’m sick and tired of the mean way he treats me.
Reluctantly, when I kept repeating it, she called 911.
Man, those police men must have been 10 ft away, cuz they were here in a blink of an eye.
Only 1 came in the bedroom. He was very kind, calm, and soft spoken. “What’s going on, Mrs. Mitchell? How can I help you?”
I’m gonna stab H to death with the butcher knife.
“Now, Mrs. Mitchell, when you say stuff like that, that’s when I have to handcuff you, and put you in the back of the police car. However, I will handcuff you in the front, not the back.”
I started crying harder. Last time I was Baker Acted, I was put in the back of the police car, it took about 30 minutes to pry me out, cuz of my arthritis and fibromyalgia, my muscles froze. Also, cuz the seats are 3 inches off the floorboards. And now I’m 7 years older. I promise I won’t fight. I will not hurt anyone. The only one I want to hurt is my husband. Please, please would you call an ambulance for me??
Thankfully, he did. Turns out, he was a Christian. I asked him, as he was checking to see that I was properly strapped down. We high fived, and I said, See you in heaven! I hope I never see you again like this!
He said, “Me too, Mrs. Mitchell ! Take care of yourself.”
The ambulance asked which hospital I wanted to go to, closest? No, the one that has all my records.
Ambulances are the roughest ride in the world! That I have experienced! If there’s a rougher one, I sure don’t want to experience it! Every bump makes me scream, but I try to bite it back, cuz of my back.
I stayed in the ER 12 hours, because there were no female psych beds, apparently, in the Central Florida area.
I finally arrived at the chosen hospital, via ambulance, after a harrowing 90 minute ride, that I was sure was gonna kill me. No such luck.
4/28 Sorry I didn’t get back here till today!! Please forgive!