Dad waited with me in the lobby for them to call me back and
start the assessment last week. They called me back and asked me a few
questions and then told me I could get my things. I told dad he could get my
bags out of the truck and that there was no reason for him to sit around while
they did the official assessment. He left and I waited for a few more minutes
in the lobby before they called me back. I gave them my bags and sat down in a
plain room with green chairs and a sofa.
There are so many freaking questions that they ask when you
are getting a mental health assessment. Suicidal ideations? Self-injury?
Depression? Mania? Hallucinations? Delusions? Sleeping too much? Not enough?
The list goes on and on. After you answer all of their questions they have to
go take your assessment to the doctor to get his order on what needs to be
done. This is the first of many doctor’s orders that you have to get in the
hospital.
After the doctor said to admit me and I was brought back to
the unit everything I had brought with me was searched…including myself. I
found out that I needed a doctor’s order to have my hard back books and my
blanket. I could understand the hard backs…but the blanket? Really? What
exactly am I going to do with my blanket that I couldn’t do with their blanket…I
just wanted something soft that smelled like home with me as a comfort. I didn’t
complain…I just figured I would wait and talk to the doctor.
I realized within the first couple of hours of being on the
unit that I was on an unstable unit. They don’t tell you this when they admit
you, but between the fact that I myself was hallucinating and the amount of
action taking place on the unit it was obvious.
I braved the first morning group therapy session, but that
was all I could manage. A fight broke out in the other day room and after that
I refused to leave my room, but I was informed that I was going to need a
doctor’s order to stay in my room.
I finally got in to talk to the doctor later that morning
and I had a list. I wanted my books…all of them. I wanted my blanket. I wanted
to be able to keep to myself in my room because of how crazy the unit was and I
wanted permission to stay on checks so that I wouldn’t have to go into the
cafeteria with the insanity of the rest of the hospital.
Now let me explain to you how ridiculous this is. Checks
means that you stay on a higher level of supervision than everyone else.
Generally speaking you are on checks until you see the doctor, which is usually
in the first 24 hours of being admitted. I was requesting to stay on checks…but
apparently you have to have a doctor’s order to be allowed to stay on a higher
level of supervision. Am I the only one that finds this ridiculous? And the
thing about staying in my room? The reason I had to have a doctor’s order for
this is because they lock all of the rooms during group in order to encourage
group attendance, but they tell you that they can’t make you go to group.
Really? I don’t have to go to group but you are going to limit that places that
I can be elsewise in an attempt to make sure I go anyways? That also seems
ridiculous. But hey, I needed a doctor’s order, so I got it. I was playing the game.
At one point I requested some of my anti-anxiety medication
and they whipped out their charts and brought out double of my requested
dose. I told them I didn’t want that much because it would put me to sleep and
they told me that they couldn’t give me less without a doctor’s order. Really!?
Are you serious? I looked at that nurse and told them that this was a highly addictive
controlled substance and I am requesting to have less of it and you can’t give
me less of it without asking the freaking doctor? She told me yes and I told
her to go call the freaking doctor then. I was getting tired of the routine.
A few days later I braved another group and once again a
fight broke out in another room. (I'm going to talk about all of the fights in a later post.) It was at this point that I decided that I
needed to get off of that unit if I was ever going to improve my condition. I
requested a different unit and they told me I needed a doctor’s order to change
units. It was the afternoon and I had already seen the doctor that day so I got
a little upset. I told them to call the doctor and get a freaking order. I was
beginning to get irritated by how many doctor’s orders I needed to function in
that place.
The doctor refused to give the order to move me because it
was inconvenient for him and I lost it. I told the nurse that I needed a
different doctor if he was that freaking concerned with his convenience instead
of my treatment. She told me I needed a doctor’s order to change doctors. Then
I really lost it. I will tell you more about what all I did when I lost it in
another post but for now just know that by the next morning when I saw the doctor
he didn’t have any trouble switching me to a different unit. But he refused to
give the order to get me a different doctor.
I moved to the other unit and started making smart remarks
about what all I needed to get a doctor’s order to do and the other patients
grabbed a hold of my sense of humor. By the end of my stay I had the patients,
nurses and even the techs cracking up when I made comments like “I need to
break wind! Someone call the doctor and get an order from him!”
So I was sitting around today thinking about all of those
freaking doctor’s orders that I had to get and I was thinking about how God is
the ultimate doctor. As irritating as I find all of those rules I knew that things
had to be that way for my protection and the protection of others.
So then I was thinking that what if I got the ultimate
doctor’s orders before I did things? Like, what if I went to God before acting
and just ran it by him to make sure it was safe for me to act? I’m not talking about
what I should wear to the mall tomorrow or what color eye shadow I should put
on, but I am talking about the important things…the things that are important to
my own future and the futures of others.
So I think I’m going to try it. I think I will try getting "The Doctor’s Orders" on things. Like where I should go to graduate school? When I
should move out of the house to go to graduate school? Where I should work?
Where should my internship for graduate school be at? And I’m going to be
honest that it already seems like a hassle…because I have a tendency to think
that I know what’s best for me. But just like in the hospital, it’s for my own
good. I may not like it, but in the long run the extra effort is better for me
and for others.
Love, Randi
