What is an experience you had at a hospital you’ll never forget?

Question
Mudassir Ali 9 months 1 Answer 142 views

Answer ( 1 )

  1. This is called the, “Marijuana Story”. Me and an MHA (Mental Health Associate) staff named Quinn from the ER can agree that is an appropriate title, haha.

    So there’s this guy, who is discharging in less than 10 minutes. Tall, heavier build, black, tattoos along his stomach and side and arm, and husky-like voice.

    The man decided he was going to take a quick shower, after he got back his belongings. He decided he couldn’t wait to smoke a blunt. He thought the ER, the psych floor would be the best place to smoke it. While he was “taking a shower”, an awful aroma arose. It was weed. Lots of it. It was so strong. Everyone on the floor could smell it. As per hospital policy, since the staff were able to smell it, they alerted the head staff of the ER, as well as security.

    Security arrives and is knocking on the restroom (the one restroom, unfortunately) door.

    “Hey man, we’re gonna give you 10 seconds to get a towel wrapped around you, then we gotta open the door.” So, the 10 seconds is up, now. The door is opened. “Hey man, we know you’ve been smoking in here. There’s a strong aroma that we were alerted to in this restroom. The worst we can do, because you are a patient here, is dispose of it properly.” Another officer said, “come on, man. There’s kids in here… Dude, just hand it over. We can’t arrest you.”

    Going on from that, it all just escalated further.

    Security officer upset me a great deal due to PTSD things that I’m not getting in to as for the now.

    An officer came into my room and told, or asked me something. He then started closing my door. I started yelling, “wait, no, don’t lock me in here! Please, don’t!” I started feeling trapped, and bolted under the officer’s arm, that was closing the door, and for a second set of doors separating general ER and behavioural ER down the hall, to the right. I’m yelling, and crying.

    I remember being pinned down at prairie care. I remember being hurt by Autumn. I remember being locked in my room when I was younger. Locked in other rooms, alone. I remember too many other incidences of restraint or being hurt. And now I am freaking the fuck out. I didn’t stop to think those double, big magnetic doors would be locked. I didn’t think of it. Whereas it should have been so obvious. But I am in the moment— not in a rational place of mind.

    Security and an MHA and RN is walking briskly in my direction. They get closer to me, and I run past them. A Security officer grabs ahold of my right arm. The RN is saying something like, “Jae. Jae, no, please don’t do this. It’s alright. It’s okay.” I can’t process it at the time. Again, it’s in the moment. I can’t process anything. I’m stuck in another world. Locked in another world. Trapped.

    “They’re going to hurt me! They’re going to hurt you!” my brain is screaming. It’s raging. Staff take me to the ground. “Jae, stop. It’s okay.”

    Additional security arrive, and 3 or 4 officers escort me to my room (ED 13 or 14). “Jae, stop. Just get on the bed. Come on, stop. Stop fighting.” I’m yelling, crying and can’t slow down my breathing. I got one security officer off of my legs, he was holding them in place. The other two were holding me up against the stretcher. I wind up kicking at the stretcher and manage to get myself up off of the side of the stretcher, and am on the ground, though, now. I’m yelling for them to “let go! Get the hell off of me!” And I finally verbalize to Quinn, how much Security triggers me. Quinn says, “It’s okay. Get off. Let go of him.” Security slowly let go and left.

    “I didn’t know you had PTSD with officers”, Quinn quietly said. I did not reply. I went into my first, “this bad of”, dissociative episode.

    [Update of 01/27/2019, and they just got worse from there on out). I couldn’t talk for a good hour. I couldn’t stop crying, and couldn’t slow down my breathing. I started banging my head.

    While all of this was going on, as soon as I coding (Code Green— which means safety threat (to self or others) which warrants extra staff and security), a young man with autism a few rooms down, started spreading feces all over his walls in his room. He could not communicate how overstimulated he was.

    Then another mean wound up running, after he pulled a fire alarm (somewhere on the floor, I have no clue where). By law, all the doors must open, and unlock. Even on psych floors.

    The man ran and got lost somewhere within the hospital, and wound up successfully ‘escaping’.

    Because he was not on a Chapter 51 or a mental health section or hold, everyone let him go. He was not there against his will. So police were just called as protocol to report it.

    *ding, ding, ding* “may I have your attention please? A fire has been reported within the building.”*ding, ding, ding*, “your attention please. A fire has been reported within the building.” And this repeated for a good 10 minutes. Then it turned off.

    Then, things died down. About 2 hours later, my mother came to discharge me.

    Bye bye, Abbott NW.

    This was my first ER trip there.

    That was the longest 30 minutes or so of my life.

Leave an answer