Today’s Casualty, Just Because You’re Paranoid

The young doctor, Ruth, who is sectioned for Bipolar Disorder and prescribed Lithium, is the exact image of one of my first nurses, but I can’t remember her name.  As it happens, I bumped into her at St Barnabas Cathedral in Nottingham a few years ago.  The character of Ruth, I would say that her whole reaction was about fear of the drugs, maybe about not being able to walk away, and about the fact that this man Charlie is someone who won’t listen to anything she has to say.  To me that seems obvious.  And in spite of the fact that she makes a perfectly reasonable case for why she doesn’t want this kind of ‘help’, even as a doctor she isn’t heard and respected.  She is on section, and takes lithium.  I suppose a doctor would know that they had a right to refuse, in which case it would be brought up for review (that is what I was told in hospital and how it was for me sometimes), but she took it the same way as someone who didn’t know they had any other choice – resentful and trapped.  And no one cares about your feelings about taking the drug, even if they are so obviousl anti.  That is my experience.  I have’t seen this for a while.  I’m not sure if this is part of a developing story line or how it has been handled so far.

Charlie is P J Charters, who used to be the charge nurse and, the last I knew, worked at Speedwell in Deptford.  He’s not a lot different from Charlie.  I think he also might be asked why he never listens.

They mention a doctor or Mr Jordan.  One of my nurses was called Mark Jordan.  He brought me in some Enya tapes, in this programme they talk about him doing his best schizophrenic, I’m not sure if that is supposed to be significant.

The guy with dreadlocks, the porter, who often appears, is a nurse called Peter.  I daren’t say anything about his attitude, I might be called prejudiced or accused of racism or discrimination.  More appropriate might be classism, but people always go for the obvious.

Christians are supposed to protect people.  Who should I protect, myself and other patients, or these people?  Or all of us?  I could say much, much more than I have.

I can’t remember if I mentioned the time, early on in my experience with the mental health service, when I was listening to the kind of music station, in hospital, that was doing loads of ‘shout outs’, one after the other.  I think it was D J Spoony, and I was thinking of him then as David Shearman.  He was doing all these shout outs, and I thought I recognised the names, and in the end I thought it was about me being demonised and the names of demons I needed deliverance from.  I went up to two dark skinned male nurses, I can’t remember their nationality, and told them I thought I needed Christian deliverance.  I think they just stared at me or something, because the next thing I knew my hands shot out, as if trying to grasp for safety, or recover something.  They both just stared at me and one of them said, ‘those hands could kill’.  I’m not making it up and I didn’t imagine it.  I can’t even remember who they were.  I feel as if I shouldn’t be writing this.  To me all of this feel like coded support, that is why I feel wrong about publishing something like this.

Advertisements