I had a humbling experience last week.
One of my mother's friends, someone who I have also spent time with when she pops out socialising during the week and I have been off work, was admitted to Bootham last week. For those of you who don't know, Bootham (now Bootham Park), is a psychiatric hospital, once York Lunatic Asylum. When I was at school we used to use the playing fields at the end of the green expanse fronting the domineering red bricked building and scare each other with talks of the mental people who were watching us (if only I knew how I would end up haha!).
Anyway, I will call my friend Maureen. Maureen was introduced to me as someone who is "mad as a box of frogs and loses her train of thought when she speaks as she has had her brain fried so many times", which in itself is a fairly accurate summary. Maureen was admitted to Bootham about 50 years ago following what sounds like post-partum depression these days and was sterilised "for her own good". She had numerous bouts of ECT and has never been the same since.
Mum was worried as Maureen had not been socialising in the pub for the last month or so. The last she had seen of her was when mum got out of the taxi on the way home and Maureen bid her goodbye until next week. That was on the Friday. Maureen had already planned her way out with a bottle of Rum and Amitriptiline. She was, on the whole, successful, although she had forgotten to shut her curtains fully so her neighbour could see her collapsed on the floor and got the police to break in. Maureen was then in intensive care for 4 days, the police failed to, as instructed, inform her son and so she woke up alone. She was not sectioned, merely transferred to the "Elderly Assessment Unit" for observation and treatment.
Mum was upset. I was upset in a way, but totally understood where her head was at. So 3 weeks after the fact (the day after I heard) I went to visit her.
Let me just say, she is an amazing woman. She was already "mothering" the old dears by the time I saw her and was seeming a bit like her normal self. But I knew. And she knew that I knew. And so we spoke.
I let her be, tell me what she wanted to, but was able to empathise. The psychiatrist still had her notes from 50 years ago and she told me what it was like at Bootham then. You can Wiki the place, but let me just say, I can imagine how imposing the building must have been then! When you walk in there are inlaid floors and echoes, rooms abut from the corridor that are panelled court rooms. Amazing building, so much history and pain behind the walls.
The ward was not too bad - smart, bright and comfortable. But there did not appear to be much going on in the way of activites, which Maureen confirmed. I breezed in there (she didn't know I was visiting so to see her smile was amazing) and said hello to whoever was there. She introduced me to some of her fellow patients and I think they enjoyed the diversion. We then went to the "quiet" room (not with us to there!) for a good old chinwag. She was fairly cheerful under the circumstances but wavered at times. I gave her a "Get Well Soon" card as I am not to proud or afraid to do so, which she loved. One of the other patients who wandered in, just for some company I think, had been through a course of ECT and while he was not a bundle of energised fun, Maureen explained that he was much better than he was a couple of weeks ago. He was going to be allowed an overnight stay that night (i.e. at home) - I sympathised greatly - I was desperate for a home overnight stay when I was in the bin, despite the hassle when I got back (searches, breathaliser, grilling etc.).
I spent about an hour and a half there and I truly enjoyed seeing her. She will probably do it again and she explained what her "trigger" was, but she knew that I was not afraid to hear what she had to say. We even had a laugh when I said that I bet she was pissed off she left the curtains open and she wouldn't be so sloppy next time (gallows humour, only a mentalist would understand so sorry if you are shocked!)
I wish I had this week off work as well, just so I can go and spend the afternoon with her.
When I was walking out I met another couple of her friends, one of which who said "I would introduce myself but I can't even remember my name" with a wry grin. Me, loud laugh. I just wanted to hug them all.
Maureen is a very determined lady and will not give in to her Psychiatrist. She wants valium and has been refused (maybe because of the side effects with her current antidepressant but this has not been explained to her). She has refused lithium and I think she has been offered sodium valproate but also does not want it. Disturbingly, she has not been able to sleep properly in the three or so weeks that she has been there. The cynical me says her Psychiatrist wants her to have lack of sleep to induce mania, or near mania to kick her out of depression, or this is some kind of experiment he is doing. Last Friday one of the nurses told her to ask for a sleeper so that she could get some rest.
I am hoping that maybe the hospital has some volunteer work where I can go in and spend some time on the elderly ward. I feel so at home there.
