I am starting, virtually, at the beginning of my time working on S-16. I can't promise that every entry in this blog will be chronological by posting. No way that will happen. I will be honest, just writing down what I remember about these events at the NS on S-16. I promise not to bullshit you. Everything I write actually happened.
However, for the sake of my brain and finding a starting point, there seems no reason why I should not begin with that first day. I still remember it well enough.
I hadn't yet turned 19 years of age, when I began my employment at the NS. Obviously, there was no way I was going to start my new job as a "Staff Assistant" (an "Orderly" or commonly referred to as "Male Staff" by the female CNAs and Nurses) without some sort of briefing from my new superiors, the Administrative Nursing Staff. Sitting in a class with about 20 other unsuspecting individuals, we commenced our initiation in the NS. The person who ran the "orientation" classes was an older Head Nurse type who was our "Instructor" for this brief few days. While she didn't look anything like Nurse Ratched in the Milos Forman movie, I still couldn't get the Nurse Ratched character out of my head and soon all Nurses, who were aged 40+, all reminded me of Nurse Ratched. None of them were personable. They all looked like they hated their job.
Anyway, this was to be our "Orientation" week at the NS. Five days of 6 hour lessons to teach us the various mental illnesses, learn some CPR, the types of medications used, restraint holds, what-to-do-when sessions and an overview of Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT or "Shock Therapy" or "Shock Treatment"), it effects and results, as they explained to us, that some would be required to assist with ECTs. At first I wasn't sure what she was referring to when she used the term Electroconvulsive therapy. Finally she clarified for us laymen, and began referring to ECT as "Shock Treatment". When I heard that, I shifted my body & kind of sat up straight in my chair. This piqued my interest some more. My friend Bill D. did not mention anything about shock treatment. I had heard about it, read about in Ken Kesey's novel and had watched the scene from the movie any number of times. Had no idea I would maybe get to see one in action. I wondered if I might get to see shock treatment being performed. As exciting as that prospect was, there was also something rather eerie about the notion of seeing someone get shock treatment. The image of Randall P. McMurphy from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest receiving shock treatment was etched into my brain. All that convulsive writhing and obvious traumatic response was hard to forget.
The CPR lessons were disgusting, to say the least. All I can recall is placing my lips over a rubber dummy whose oral cavity had just been swabbed with rubbing alcohol. I thought, what could be worse? Lots of things, like placing my mouth over some patient who had just keeled over only to realize the patient had not brushed their teeth for days or weeks. The thought of that made me nauseous. I tried to extinguish those smells and thoughts and just leaned over this dummy's face and started blowing into its' mouth. Mmmmmm...Rubbery, antiseptic taste.
Then there were the lessons we received on the various mental illnesses, all of which I found very interesting. Depression, Catatonia, Manic Delerium, Manic-Depression (They hadn't started calling it "Bi-Polar Disorder" yet), Schizophrenia & its' many manifestations and other such manias, states of dementia & related mental illnesses. I had always had an active interest in Psychology and the inner mechanisms of the human brain. This was going to be different, though. Just how different it was going to be, I had no real perception of.
On the final day of our orientation, our "Nurse Ratched" assigned us to the Unit (ward) in which we would be working. My friend Jim T. was assigned to the unit S-17 located on the next floor above S-16. My other friend from High School, Dave McB. was assigned to S-16 along with myself. On our final day of orientation, just after lunchtime and with virtually no hesitation, we were then informed we would be spending the remainder of the day/shift on our assigned nits so we could familiarize ourselves with the staff of S-16, the Unit's surroundings and the patients.
This slightly unnerved me. While I knew the moment for us to be integrated amongst the patients was coming soon, but for some reason when we were told we were now going to our Units to begin work, to be honest, I was a little bit scared. I truly wondered what I might see and witness. Fear of the unknown, was all it was I told myself.
So far, I had not been in any other part of the NS except for the classroom. We hadn't even seen any patients in our presence in the sector of the hospital where our orientation classes were held. Sure, we ate our lunch in the hospital cafeteria and there were patients there, but most of the faces I saw in the cafeteria seemed anything but threatening. Quite docile and uneventful they seemed to be. Most of them just walked slow or shuffled about and avoiding eye contact, for the most part.
As we were escorted by another member of the nursing staff to our respective units, it almost felt like we were now left to our own devices and survival. I was taken into the "Old" building (the North building) - the part of the hospital that was the oldest, dating back to the 1800s. As we went into the "old" building, I was marvelled by the 19th century design of the place. The ceilings were high, about 15-20 feet and there was this ornate trim lining the point where the walls meet the ceilings. All of the walls were painted a light yellowish color with a very light lime green trim. Then there was that smell. Not the same antiseptic smell you notice in General hospitals. Not the smell of physical ailments or death. It was something totally different. It almost smelled like bad hygiene or even worse, urine. Or it could have just been the industrial type cleansing agents used by the janitorial staff. I had no idea, but it was a strong enough smell that it took awhile to get used to.
Once we entered the main foyer of the "Old" building, there was this massive staircase that led up to each floor. There was also an elevator, but we took the stairs. This was when we started to really notice the patients, their faces and their illnesses. These patients were able to roam freely on the grounds of the hospital, but not allowed off grounds. Funny, though, there was very little presence of security, so I wondered why these patients never just up & left. I would come to realize later that they never left because at the NS they have a roof over their head, a bed to sleep in and 3 square meals a day. Just like prison.
Up the stairs I went with the Nurse towards S-16. Once at the top of the winding staircase, on our floor, we rounded the meandering handrail and started to walk down a very long hallway of shiny linoleum. Once we entered S-16, we went directly to the nursing station on S-16. Walking down the hallway, which was probably about 200-250 feet in total, I noticed the doors to the patient's rooms. The doors to these rooms were so thick and sturdy looking. We also walked past another room that appeared to be some sort of lounge area for the patients, because I could hear a TV blaring away out of sight. There was another TV lounge area for the patients just beyond the nursing station. It was a small lounge area with about 10 chairs and each chair had a patient just sitting in it. The TV was on in that lounge but no one was watching it.
The nursing station was very small with two adjacent rooms. One was where all the patients files were kept, some cupboards containing sundries and supplies of various nature. This was the main room and it was surrounded by nothing but glass with a long desk like counter top where two people could sit. It was like being in a look out station with a grand peripheral view of the patients' activities. The other adjacent room was used primarily for the resident Psychiatrist who was responsible for the patients on S-16. His name was Dr. A, a short Philipino Psychiatrist. I had never met anyone from the Philippines before I ever met him. He was an okay guy with an odd laugh he used when dealing with some of the patients.
However, for the sake of my brain and finding a starting point, there seems no reason why I should not begin with that first day. I still remember it well enough.
I hadn't yet turned 19 years of age, when I began my employment at the NS. Obviously, there was no way I was going to start my new job as a "Staff Assistant" (an "Orderly" or commonly referred to as "Male Staff" by the female CNAs and Nurses) without some sort of briefing from my new superiors, the Administrative Nursing Staff. Sitting in a class with about 20 other unsuspecting individuals, we commenced our initiation in the NS. The person who ran the "orientation" classes was an older Head Nurse type who was our "Instructor" for this brief few days. While she didn't look anything like Nurse Ratched in the Milos Forman movie, I still couldn't get the Nurse Ratched character out of my head and soon all Nurses, who were aged 40+, all reminded me of Nurse Ratched. None of them were personable. They all looked like they hated their job.
Anyway, this was to be our "Orientation" week at the NS. Five days of 6 hour lessons to teach us the various mental illnesses, learn some CPR, the types of medications used, restraint holds, what-to-do-when sessions and an overview of Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT or "Shock Therapy" or "Shock Treatment"), it effects and results, as they explained to us, that some would be required to assist with ECTs. At first I wasn't sure what she was referring to when she used the term Electroconvulsive therapy. Finally she clarified for us laymen, and began referring to ECT as "Shock Treatment". When I heard that, I shifted my body & kind of sat up straight in my chair. This piqued my interest some more. My friend Bill D. did not mention anything about shock treatment. I had heard about it, read about in Ken Kesey's novel and had watched the scene from the movie any number of times. Had no idea I would maybe get to see one in action. I wondered if I might get to see shock treatment being performed. As exciting as that prospect was, there was also something rather eerie about the notion of seeing someone get shock treatment. The image of Randall P. McMurphy from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest receiving shock treatment was etched into my brain. All that convulsive writhing and obvious traumatic response was hard to forget.
The CPR lessons were disgusting, to say the least. All I can recall is placing my lips over a rubber dummy whose oral cavity had just been swabbed with rubbing alcohol. I thought, what could be worse? Lots of things, like placing my mouth over some patient who had just keeled over only to realize the patient had not brushed their teeth for days or weeks. The thought of that made me nauseous. I tried to extinguish those smells and thoughts and just leaned over this dummy's face and started blowing into its' mouth. Mmmmmm...Rubbery, antiseptic taste.
Then there were the lessons we received on the various mental illnesses, all of which I found very interesting. Depression, Catatonia, Manic Delerium, Manic-Depression (They hadn't started calling it "Bi-Polar Disorder" yet), Schizophrenia & its' many manifestations and other such manias, states of dementia & related mental illnesses. I had always had an active interest in Psychology and the inner mechanisms of the human brain. This was going to be different, though. Just how different it was going to be, I had no real perception of.
On the final day of our orientation, our "Nurse Ratched" assigned us to the Unit (ward) in which we would be working. My friend Jim T. was assigned to the unit S-17 located on the next floor above S-16. My other friend from High School, Dave McB. was assigned to S-16 along with myself. On our final day of orientation, just after lunchtime and with virtually no hesitation, we were then informed we would be spending the remainder of the day/shift on our assigned nits so we could familiarize ourselves with the staff of S-16, the Unit's surroundings and the patients.
This slightly unnerved me. While I knew the moment for us to be integrated amongst the patients was coming soon, but for some reason when we were told we were now going to our Units to begin work, to be honest, I was a little bit scared. I truly wondered what I might see and witness. Fear of the unknown, was all it was I told myself.
So far, I had not been in any other part of the NS except for the classroom. We hadn't even seen any patients in our presence in the sector of the hospital where our orientation classes were held. Sure, we ate our lunch in the hospital cafeteria and there were patients there, but most of the faces I saw in the cafeteria seemed anything but threatening. Quite docile and uneventful they seemed to be. Most of them just walked slow or shuffled about and avoiding eye contact, for the most part.
As we were escorted by another member of the nursing staff to our respective units, it almost felt like we were now left to our own devices and survival. I was taken into the "Old" building (the North building) - the part of the hospital that was the oldest, dating back to the 1800s. As we went into the "old" building, I was marvelled by the 19th century design of the place. The ceilings were high, about 15-20 feet and there was this ornate trim lining the point where the walls meet the ceilings. All of the walls were painted a light yellowish color with a very light lime green trim. Then there was that smell. Not the same antiseptic smell you notice in General hospitals. Not the smell of physical ailments or death. It was something totally different. It almost smelled like bad hygiene or even worse, urine. Or it could have just been the industrial type cleansing agents used by the janitorial staff. I had no idea, but it was a strong enough smell that it took awhile to get used to.
Once we entered the main foyer of the "Old" building, there was this massive staircase that led up to each floor. There was also an elevator, but we took the stairs. This was when we started to really notice the patients, their faces and their illnesses. These patients were able to roam freely on the grounds of the hospital, but not allowed off grounds. Funny, though, there was very little presence of security, so I wondered why these patients never just up & left. I would come to realize later that they never left because at the NS they have a roof over their head, a bed to sleep in and 3 square meals a day. Just like prison.
Up the stairs I went with the Nurse towards S-16. Once at the top of the winding staircase, on our floor, we rounded the meandering handrail and started to walk down a very long hallway of shiny linoleum. Once we entered S-16, we went directly to the nursing station on S-16. Walking down the hallway, which was probably about 200-250 feet in total, I noticed the doors to the patient's rooms. The doors to these rooms were so thick and sturdy looking. We also walked past another room that appeared to be some sort of lounge area for the patients, because I could hear a TV blaring away out of sight. There was another TV lounge area for the patients just beyond the nursing station. It was a small lounge area with about 10 chairs and each chair had a patient just sitting in it. The TV was on in that lounge but no one was watching it.
The nursing station was very small with two adjacent rooms. One was where all the patients files were kept, some cupboards containing sundries and supplies of various nature. This was the main room and it was surrounded by nothing but glass with a long desk like counter top where two people could sit. It was like being in a look out station with a grand peripheral view of the patients' activities. The other adjacent room was used primarily for the resident Psychiatrist who was responsible for the patients on S-16. His name was Dr. A, a short Philipino Psychiatrist. I had never met anyone from the Philippines before I ever met him. He was an okay guy with an odd laugh he used when dealing with some of the patients.
I was then introduced to the S-16 Nurse in charge of that shift, and in a moment later, the Nurse who escorted me to S-16 was gone, walking back down the hallway. The Nurse is charge was just one of 2 on duty, along with 2 female CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) and 1 other male orderly. The Nurse in charge (I can't remember her name so lets just call her "Mary"), asked me a few questions about myself and if I wanted I could talk a walk around S-16 with the other male orderly, so he could explain the details of the job, show me where everything was located and start introducing me to the patients. Mary introduced me and Dave McB. to the other orderly (we'll call him Jerry). Jerry was about 10 years older than me, but looked 20 years older. He had wire frame glasses that were previously broken and now kept together with tape, and his face was hidden by his badly maintained beard and long hair. He wore these beat up Dingo boots and was dressed like he should have been working in a head shop for bikers.
Jerry took us into every room on S-16. Each and every patients' bedroom, the 4 TV lounges, the ward kitchen/eating room, the bathrooms, the medication room. I noticed that one bedroom would be a single room, while the next was big enough for 6 patients. I also noticed that the single rooms were the only rooms that had a small 5" x 5" window on the front door. I wasn't sure, at first, what that meant. The last room Jerry took us to was the kitchen. We sat down together and had a coffee and a cigarette (yes, we smoked while on the job and in a hospital back in those days). He seemed so calm and relaxed, while I couldn't take my eyes off every patient that cruised into the kitchen area. I was on full alert. Some of the patients who seemed amiable enough came over to introduce themselves. A few other patients came into the kitchen and just either blankly stared at us, or ignored us. There were a couple of patients that eyed us in a very suspicious (or paranoic) way. One in particular looked especially creepy. More on him in a moment.
The layout of S-16 was something of a rigid S shape. The entrance hallway was about 250 feet long then jutted left for about 100 feet and then straight down again for another 250 feet. The middle portion of this layout was where a Male and Female washroom was located, along with a utility closet on the opposite side. In between the 2 washrooms there was a chalkboard on the right wall, but with no chalk.
Once we finished our coffees, we started back towards the nursing station. I was told that we were welcome to hang in the nursing station, but we were required to walk up and down the hallways every 15 minutes or so, just to make sure all was good in this psychotic dystopia.
Part of me wanted to stay comforted by the protection of the nursing station. I was clearly nervous and wondered if I had just accepted a job that I was ill prepared (mentally) for. Then, like most other times I sense fear, I just plunge right in to overcome it. I decided that I would start my rounds on S-16 walking around and observing my new surroundings. I looked out the glass of the nursing station, towards the leftt, down the hallway. Since this was the entrance hallway, I would learn later that there is not much activity down this hallway, ever, so I looked to the right. From that vantage point, I could see a number of patients just sitting in the donated lounge chairs in the 2nd TV room.
One patient caught my attention. I had noticed him in the kitchen where I had my coffee earlier with Jerry. He was one of the patients that came in and cast a suspicious look our way. His look was much different than any other patient I had so far seen. It was just plain, downright scary. He looked psychotic. Now, he was sitting in a rocking chair, constantly in motion, smoking his cigarettes right down to the filter until the orange filter was camouflaged by the nicotine stains on his smoking hand. He never took his eyes off of me. He looked even creepier than he did in the kitchen.
I took a bit of a deep breath and started to walk out of the nursing station. I figured I could at least go for another coffee and cigarette. The moment I rounded the corner of the nursing station, to make my way to the kitchen in the other hallway, he immediately rose from his chair. He walked right up to me and stopped me in my tracks. He was about 4 inches shorter than I was (I stand 6'1"). He stood there with his stove pipe jeans rolled up at the bottom and white t-shirt on with the sleeves rolled up and his pack of smokes tucked under the left sleeve. His hair was styled like like a left over remnant of the 1950s. It was thinning out but lengthy enough that he had it slicked back on top & sides like a Teddy Boy. It wreaked of Brylcreem. His front teeth were either broken or chipped from fights and stained from countless years of smoking. His age? Maybe 10 years older than me, but he, too, looked more like 20 years older. His physique was probably what frightened me the most, next to his eyes. He was built like an ex-weightlifter and looked like he could fight his way out of anything (and probably had many times).
So there he stood, directly in front of me with his nose not more than 8 inches from my own and his eyes looked straight through me. His eyes were small and a real dark brown, almost black. Then with a quick glance he just eyed me from my feet back up to my face. That's when he spoke.
"What's your name?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm Doug" I replied.
Without missing a beat, he then asked me, "Do you like snakes?". I had no idea why he asked me this and had no idea how to answer. "Sure, why wouldn't I ?" was all I could think of saying.
"Yeah, rrrrright" he said, his voice trailing off on the word 'right'. I didn't even get his name before he turned an about face and walked away from me towards the kitchen in the 3rd hallway. As he walked away, with his head turned slightly back , he cast one more glaring look at me. It sent a shiver up & down my spine.
I am not frightened by snakes or the thought of them, but he sure frightened me with his suspicious looks and menacing demeanor. Once he was out of sight, I immediately walked back to the nursing station and asked one of the staff on duty who he was. I was informed his name was Albert and he had just arrived on S-16 no more than 2 months ago after being in the Maximum Security (Forensic) Unit for the past 3-4 years. I took his chart from the files and started to read. From his chart, I learned he had been in and out of the NS since he was a teenager and also spent some time in Dorchester penitentiary for assault. He was a diagnosed Paranoid Schizophrenic with a history of outbursts of anger and/or violence. It was also concluded from the Psychiatrists' report that he was a closet homosexual. Lucky me, my first patient interaction was with a potential killer who may or may not have had the hots for me. I hoped it would be the last encounter I would have him. Unfortunately that would not be, for I saw him everyday that I worked on S-16. He never changed the way he looked at me but never spoke with me very much. A mixed blessing, I guess. He never really bothered me, until about a year later. That forthcoming incident with Albert would one of the 3 scariest moments in my time on S-16.
More on that another time, plus more stories from S-16.
Jerry took us into every room on S-16. Each and every patients' bedroom, the 4 TV lounges, the ward kitchen/eating room, the bathrooms, the medication room. I noticed that one bedroom would be a single room, while the next was big enough for 6 patients. I also noticed that the single rooms were the only rooms that had a small 5" x 5" window on the front door. I wasn't sure, at first, what that meant. The last room Jerry took us to was the kitchen. We sat down together and had a coffee and a cigarette (yes, we smoked while on the job and in a hospital back in those days). He seemed so calm and relaxed, while I couldn't take my eyes off every patient that cruised into the kitchen area. I was on full alert. Some of the patients who seemed amiable enough came over to introduce themselves. A few other patients came into the kitchen and just either blankly stared at us, or ignored us. There were a couple of patients that eyed us in a very suspicious (or paranoic) way. One in particular looked especially creepy. More on him in a moment.
The layout of S-16 was something of a rigid S shape. The entrance hallway was about 250 feet long then jutted left for about 100 feet and then straight down again for another 250 feet. The middle portion of this layout was where a Male and Female washroom was located, along with a utility closet on the opposite side. In between the 2 washrooms there was a chalkboard on the right wall, but with no chalk.
Once we finished our coffees, we started back towards the nursing station. I was told that we were welcome to hang in the nursing station, but we were required to walk up and down the hallways every 15 minutes or so, just to make sure all was good in this psychotic dystopia.
Part of me wanted to stay comforted by the protection of the nursing station. I was clearly nervous and wondered if I had just accepted a job that I was ill prepared (mentally) for. Then, like most other times I sense fear, I just plunge right in to overcome it. I decided that I would start my rounds on S-16 walking around and observing my new surroundings. I looked out the glass of the nursing station, towards the leftt, down the hallway. Since this was the entrance hallway, I would learn later that there is not much activity down this hallway, ever, so I looked to the right. From that vantage point, I could see a number of patients just sitting in the donated lounge chairs in the 2nd TV room.
One patient caught my attention. I had noticed him in the kitchen where I had my coffee earlier with Jerry. He was one of the patients that came in and cast a suspicious look our way. His look was much different than any other patient I had so far seen. It was just plain, downright scary. He looked psychotic. Now, he was sitting in a rocking chair, constantly in motion, smoking his cigarettes right down to the filter until the orange filter was camouflaged by the nicotine stains on his smoking hand. He never took his eyes off of me. He looked even creepier than he did in the kitchen.
I took a bit of a deep breath and started to walk out of the nursing station. I figured I could at least go for another coffee and cigarette. The moment I rounded the corner of the nursing station, to make my way to the kitchen in the other hallway, he immediately rose from his chair. He walked right up to me and stopped me in my tracks. He was about 4 inches shorter than I was (I stand 6'1"). He stood there with his stove pipe jeans rolled up at the bottom and white t-shirt on with the sleeves rolled up and his pack of smokes tucked under the left sleeve. His hair was styled like like a left over remnant of the 1950s. It was thinning out but lengthy enough that he had it slicked back on top & sides like a Teddy Boy. It wreaked of Brylcreem. His front teeth were either broken or chipped from fights and stained from countless years of smoking. His age? Maybe 10 years older than me, but he, too, looked more like 20 years older. His physique was probably what frightened me the most, next to his eyes. He was built like an ex-weightlifter and looked like he could fight his way out of anything (and probably had many times).
So there he stood, directly in front of me with his nose not more than 8 inches from my own and his eyes looked straight through me. His eyes were small and a real dark brown, almost black. Then with a quick glance he just eyed me from my feet back up to my face. That's when he spoke.
"What's your name?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm Doug" I replied.
Without missing a beat, he then asked me, "Do you like snakes?". I had no idea why he asked me this and had no idea how to answer. "Sure, why wouldn't I ?" was all I could think of saying.
"Yeah, rrrrright" he said, his voice trailing off on the word 'right'. I didn't even get his name before he turned an about face and walked away from me towards the kitchen in the 3rd hallway. As he walked away, with his head turned slightly back , he cast one more glaring look at me. It sent a shiver up & down my spine.
I am not frightened by snakes or the thought of them, but he sure frightened me with his suspicious looks and menacing demeanor. Once he was out of sight, I immediately walked back to the nursing station and asked one of the staff on duty who he was. I was informed his name was Albert and he had just arrived on S-16 no more than 2 months ago after being in the Maximum Security (Forensic) Unit for the past 3-4 years. I took his chart from the files and started to read. From his chart, I learned he had been in and out of the NS since he was a teenager and also spent some time in Dorchester penitentiary for assault. He was a diagnosed Paranoid Schizophrenic with a history of outbursts of anger and/or violence. It was also concluded from the Psychiatrists' report that he was a closet homosexual. Lucky me, my first patient interaction was with a potential killer who may or may not have had the hots for me. I hoped it would be the last encounter I would have him. Unfortunately that would not be, for I saw him everyday that I worked on S-16. He never changed the way he looked at me but never spoke with me very much. A mixed blessing, I guess. He never really bothered me, until about a year later. That forthcoming incident with Albert would one of the 3 scariest moments in my time on S-16.
More on that another time, plus more stories from S-16.
Oh, this is truly awesome. I am hooked!!
ReplyDelete