Med Change

Deborah, Dr. Miller said on rounds today, it appears that you are showing signs of the beginning stages of Tardive Dyskenesia; a slight facial tick. This is a common side effect of neuroleptics. 

I know about side effects and I’ve heard about Tardive Dyskenisa.  It is one of the reasons why we mental patients who have been in the system so long look the way we do.  It’s not being crazy that makes us drool, shift our weight from one foot to another or have our tongues dangling from our mouths like Labradors in July; it’s the fucking meds!

Even though he tries to hide it I can see that Miller is a little scared.  For me? I think he’s panicking a little because of my age.  I guess he thinks I am salvageable.  Doesn’t see me playing the role of mental patient from here to eternity, I shouldn’t be fated to look like one the rest of my life. 

Let’s cut her a break and stop her from being fucked forever with ticks and spasms. 

He didn’t say that exactly, but he discontinues the Haldol immediately. 

Deborah, we are going to try you on another drug.  In addition to the Lithium a benzodiazepine should take the place of the Haldol.  Help take the edge off of your anxiety. 

Of course doctor.  I understand.  I am violent. VIOLENT.  Danger to self and others.  It would have been negligent not to replace one heavy duty tranquilizer with another. 

***

I started on the Klonopin today.  It is an entirely different drug from Haldol.  It’s supposed to give me a little buzz, but that isn’t really my thing.  They give me a lot of it though to make up for the missing Haldol.  In fact they keep upping the dose.  I get more meds and I get more tired.  That’s all I remember, I don’t even get high.  They are so focused on the ever increasing doses of the drugs I am being pumped with that they forget to check my blood work.  This was oops number one. And oops turned into oh shit. 

Deborah, we are going to have to discontinue the Klonopin right away.  Your levels are toxic. 

Am I going to be okay?  I mean toxic is bad right?

Don’t worry Deborah, we caught it quickly.  We will monitor you very closely over these next few days and treat your withdrawal. 

Um okay. 

The psychosis settled in fairly quickly as I withdrew from the Klonopin.

***

 I don’t feel like myself Annie I say as I take off my shirt.

I know Deborah.  That’s why we want to be extra careful and watch you carefully. 

Here she says handing me a hospital gown.  And I will need your bra too Deb.

Normally I’m really self conscious but I am so out of it I don’t care.  I unhook my bra and hand it to Annie and she helps me by tying the back of my gown.  They put me in the gowns as a suicide precaution.  I’ve done this dance before.  I don’t think I’m suicidal.  But I really don’t know. 

This is all familiar like déjà vus.  I distantly remember that I usually feel humiliated by this whole process.  My breasts are so disproportionately huge, sagging into the sheer fabric of the gowns that can barely prop up their enormous weight.  I am aware of this and remember that this makes me feel embarrassed.  But I don’t.  I feel like it’s not real anyway. 

Annie is this going to pass? 

My head feels so spacey I’m having trouble making words.   I know what I want to say but when I try to speak my words you know, don’t come out right. 

It’s okay Deborah she says forcing a smile.  You will be okay.  Here let me cover up your butt.  She has me put my arms through a second gown which she ties closed in the front. 

The Attack

I need a cigarette. 

My mind is not working right now.  I have thoughts that come like arrows shot through me.  They are simple. Directions or orders and then I act. 

I get my pack from my room and go out onto the porch.  What’s her name?  Why can’t I remember her name?  I know she’s Italian, and pretty.   I need a light and I have to get one from the staff member out on the porch. 

Fuck brain!  What is her name? 
She went to FIT.
Lots of vowels. 

I come up empty so I just walk over and cover up my memory lapse.

Hey, can I have a light? 

Sure Deborah.  FIT says smiling.  Wow you are really pretty I think.  I almost say it out loud.  I don’t though, I don’t think.  I try not to stare.  Or seem creepy.  

Do you need something else Deb?  She asks.

Oh, I guess I am still standing there.  I don’t mean to.   What am I supposed to do next?

Now FIT is looking at me with her really big brown eyes.  Really warm, concerned and sweet.  She’s been talking to a couple of other patients at the picnic table.  I know them.  But I can’t remember their names either.  They’re looking at me too. 

I can’t think. 

I stammer no.  And then walk to the other side of the porch by the door to the unit.  And sit at a table alone, under the umbrella.

I smoke.  Try to focus on what I am doing.  I am smoking a cigarette. 
I inhale and then exhale.  Slowly.  My mind is blank.  But the cigarette tastes good. 
I look over at FIT and the no name patients across the porch.  They are all talking.  And laughing. 

They’re not laughing at you.  I say this out loud I think.  I can’t tell anymore.  But the laughter is really loud.  It’s making my head hurt. I want to tell them to stop laughing.  Tell them that it hurts. 

I’m going to kill myself.
No reason or anything but this thought blasts like electricity through my brain. 
Right then and there I decide this.  No rhyme or reason to it, just impulse.  Then action.
I snuff out my cigarette and bolt towards the bathroom. 

FIT must have followed me.  I hear her behind me, calling my name but she seems so far away.  Or I am far away in a tunnel. 

I go into the last shower stall and yank the strings off of my gown knotting them together to make a long cord, then a noose.  I am wrapping my noose around the shower head when FIT bursts in. 

What are you doing!  Deborah!
Blank stare. 
She runs up to me, grabs my arm. 
Let go I spit. 
I look dead into her eyes and she stared back into the deadness in mine.
Let go I repeat. 
She clings tighter, with both small twig like arms grabbing my forearm. 
She’s screaming:  I need help in here!!!
I tell her a third time to let go but she doesn’t. 
I pull my arm, the one she has locked onto, in towards my chest.  Then I thrash it out flinging her to the ground. 
She doesn’t let go, she still has my arm, her nails are ripping into my wrist. 
She’s crying now.  And she’s still screaming. 
I know this because I see her mouth moving, but I don’t hear. 
I flail my arm yanking her with it.  Bashing FIT against the shower stalls.  Her head makes a loud crack against the tile. 

I hear the footfall of the male staff see flashes of red.  And then I completely black out. 

Molestation

I don’t remember being put in restraints.  And everything is foggy.  They just gave me another IM of Thorazine.  How long have I been tied to this bed?  I don’t know.

I hear them talking.  At first I didn’t think it was about me.
Angela, poor girl is still in the hospital.  
Who the fuck is Angela?
I hear she’s going to be okay though.  No permanent damage I don’t think. 
 I think she has a concussion and her right wrist was broken in three places.
Is she even going to come back? 
They’re talking about FIT.  Her real name I guess is Angela. 
Would you?  I mean if a patient tried to kill you…This job doesn’t pay enough!
I remember a little now.  Mostly screaming and blood. 

I’m seeing things that aren’t real.  I thought the restraints were stuffed animals for some reason.  That the nurses lined my bed with toys.  Presents to help me get better. 

I don’t even know what day it is.  And I’m afraid to ask.  I measure time, the change of shift or passing day by the different face looking over me from the foot of the restraint bed.  And though I am out of my mind; inarguably nuts; I know for a fact what Mr. Gains did to me.  Even though no one believes me.  But that’s what happens when you are psychotic.

They loosened the wrist restraints a little while ago.  And I can slip my arms out and wiggle them a bit. I almost want to masturbate.  I have my hands now and I am so horny.  What would happen, what would Mr. Gains do if I start fingering myself right now?  Maybe he’ll just watch or maybe he’d jerk himself off with me.  I really love him.  He remembers me from the Nair incident five years ago.  He stayed with me all night that night.  But I’m not thirteen anymore, I am a woman.  And I want to fuck.  I trust this man.  Trust him enough to keep this a secret.

I want to fuck now. 

Gains is reading his paper at the door.  I want to get his attention. So I slip my hands out from the restraints and pulled my t-shirt up bearing my breasts. 
Mr. Gain’s…
He looks up and shakes his head.  C’mon Deborah…
Touch them, I plead caressing myself.  I shift the sheet covering me over so that I can show Gains what I am doing with my other hand.  Moaning...I stick my finger inside me. 

Okay Deborah, Gains says Enough.  I’m going to put your wrists back in.
Gains comes close to the bed and grabs my left wrist and returns it to the leather bracelet, tightening it.  I grab him by the wrist with my right hand and press his hand firmly against my skin, cupping my breast.  He yanks his hand back.  His face looks shocked. 
Come on I say, you want this. 

I grab his arm again and pull him close to me.  He’s staring at me now.  Our faces are only inches apart. 
I want him to kiss me. 
I lick my lips. 
He doesn’t kiss me instead he grabs my breast. He’s doesn’t say word.  He’s breathing heavily now as he strokes my breast. 

Then I blacked out again.