I posted “A Mental Hospital Experience” Following is an abridged first part about my examination while restrained.
My chronic depression took a turn for the worse, & I wrecked a car trying to commit suicide An officer came first. “Have you been drinking?” I shook my head. “What happened? How did you lose control of your car?”
I mumbled, “Didn’t lose control. Wanted to kill myself.”
Paramedics took me to the ER The doctor came and gave me the once over. “Except for a few bruises, everything is fine. “Did you tell the officer you tried to commit suicide?” I nodded my head. “Do you have a psychiatrist?” I told him I was seeing Dr. Kristen.
Dr. Kristen came about 45 minutes later. “Good morning, Ted,” she said.
“It’s not good,” I replied.
“You wrecked your car, I understand.’ I nodded. “When we had the appointment last week you were pretty unhappy, but you said your suicide thoughts were under control. So what happened?” I didn’t have a rational explanation. I babble a bit; wandered about this and that, & finally admitted I couldn’t stand the pain anymore.
“I’m concerned about your suicide try. Let me have you transferred to Del Rio hospital, Ted.”
I shook my head. “I won’t go,” I said. The doctor and nurse tried to hold on to me. “Let go!” I said loudly. They tried to calm me down, but my protests attracted a male nurse and 2 female nurses. The 5 of then forced me back to the stretcher where the big guy and one of the women lay on top of me.. I felt something cold wipe my inner elbow crease, and a tourniquet on my arm. “NO!” I screamed. But strong hands held me down and the sharp pain told me they’d injected a sedative in my vein. In seconds I was almost asleep. I passively allowed then to buckle the belt over my chest & wrap canvas restraints around my wrists and ankles. I dozed off. When I awoke I had a momentary panic realizing I couldn’t move. I jerked at the restraints. A soothing voice said, “Don’t struggle. You’ll just use up your energy. The ambulance will be here soon,” she said.
It seemed forever until 2 men came in with an ambulance stretcher. One of them asked, “Are you going to cooperate and move onto our stretcher?” They were big guys. I nodded. Two nurses untied first my left arm and leg, and re-tied the straps loosely to the top rail of the bed. They released my right side restraints, and moved me over to the stretcher while my left side was still tied down. They secured my right limbs with new nylon Velcro closure restraints, and then moved my left limbs over and restrained me to the stretcher for the ambulance ride to the mental hospital.
On the ward a tall blonde haired said, “Good morning, Ted. I’m Irene, the charge nurse on floor today. I want to welcome you to Del Rio Hospital.
“Please, let me go home. I don’t want to be in the booby hatch!” I tried to sit up and ineffectually tugged at the restraints. “Please let me out of these,” I begged. I continued jerking spasmodically for a few seconds and quieted down.
She glanced meaningfully at my restraints. “Have you been struggling at the other hospital? Were you fighting anyone?”
“I just didn’t want to go the booby hatch,” I replied. “I tried to get up go home, so they restrained me.” I lifted my right arm showing her the restraints. “I’ll be okay. I won’t cause any trouble if you take me out of the restraints.” Nevertheless, she asked one of the other nurses to get some of their restraints.
“We won’t apply more than we think is necessary for your safety, Ted,” she said calmly. “But when we have a new patient in restraints we need to have some control until we know you.”
The 2 attendants and 2 more aides were also at hand to bring me under control, if needed. Samantha & Irene took off the right wrist restraint; the Velcro straps made a ripping sound. Samantha held open the heavy padded leather cuff. As Irene put my wrist into it I was struck with an unreasoning fear. I jerked my hand away but an alert attendant seized my arm and Irene forced my wrist into the cuff. Samantha quickly wrapped it around firmly, and put on of the slots in the cuff over the bracket. Another aide threaded a belt through the loop and quickly buckled it to the rails. I jerked at it for a few seconds futilely.
Irene said, “I thought you told me you’d cooperate.”
“I..I’m afraid of being tied up, nurse,” I whined.
“If you let us put the restraints on, quietly, we’ll take you to the regular exam room and finish admitting you to the ward. But I do have alternatives for controlling an un-cooperative patient,” she warned. The nurses put a leather belt around my waist, and locked it in place. They applied the leather cuff to my left hand first and looped the belt to the waist restraint before loosening the ambulance nylon restraint. I let them cinch it up & attach the right wrist. They applied the leather cuffs to my ankles, and put a short strap between them.
“Let’s go to the exam room, Ted,” said Irene. I stood up, and found I could only take short steps. The 2 nurses led me gently by the upper arms through the Dutch door to one of the 2 rooms in the back of the nursing station. I was led to a classic looking exam
Efficiently another nurse was waiting. The short 5’ high slightly overweight, looking blonde, about 30, introduced herself as Marcia, the nurse practitioner “Okay, let’s look you over, Ted,” she said.
Marcia re-did the mental exam, confirming I wasn’t all there. She found bruises where I’d apparently hit the glass with my head. She had me look all around, checked my side vision shined a light in my eyes, and looked in my retina with the room lights off. I grimaced, stuck out my tongue. I had a small gouge in my lower lip where I bit it. Samantha was careful to note that. She told Samantha I had abrasions on my face. I told her my neck was sore as she moved it around. “Not having any numbness or pain when I move it, tells me there’s no serious neck injury.” She loosened the gown top, dropping it down to the still restrained wrists. Now we could see the ugly bruise on my left shoulder and chest and the matching bruise over my right anterior hip where the seat belt kept me from pitching forward. Samantha had a chart with a male body outline and sketched the bruises. Marcia carefully prodded all of the ribs, shoulder, arm, back, & sternum, re-assuring me I didn’t have any fractures. While she was on the hands Marcia showed Samantha the scars on my hands, and left upper arm bruises. She thumped my chest with a finger on top of another, and then listened all over both sides of my chest.
“ “We’ll want you to take off everything underneath your gown.” I only had on my pants and shorts on anyway.
Irene asked, “Are you going to cause any trouble if I take off your restraints to undress you?” I shook my head. Nevertheless she only took off the chain between the leg restraints. She had me stand on the step on the end of the exam table, reached under my gown, unzipped my pants, and stripped off my khakis and shorts. Now I was feeling very vulnerable, naked under the gown.
Irene & Samantha took off the belt and pulled wrists out of the gown, draping it over my lap. “Shall we take them off his wrist, Irene?” asked Samantha. “We’ll wait a little longer,” said Irene. I let her fasten a belt between my wrists, giving me only about 8 inches of slack. She was rapidly becoming Nurse Ratched.
While I was still seated Marcia brushed both sided of my body, face, arms, back and several places on my legs, and using a pin she jabbed me again to detect any sensation problems. She had me push and pull with my head, arms and legs for strength abnormalities. She noticed my left thigh muscles were smaller. “It may be that you favor your leg because of the injury and surgery,” she commented. She used a rubber hammer to check my reflexes: knee, back of the heel, elbow, wrist, inside of the elbow. “Everything is fine so far, neurologically it seems, Ted.” “Lie down for me please,” she said. As I did, Samantha pulled out the slide on the exam table; she put a small paper towel on the plastic. Marcia gently probed my abdomen with her fingers; I only reacted when she pressed on my sore abdominal wall. My anxiety level increased as there was only one part of the examination left, and it was going to be embarrassing and humiliating. “I’m going to look at your hernia scars,” Marcia said. She slid my gown lower, just above my penis. Marcia pointed out the scars to Samantha who was standing on the other side of the table, peering down at my scars. Now Samantha said, “For a few minutes we need to expose you, Ted.” I quickly clutched clutched at my groin. “Do you have to do this?”
“Ted. Please stand up for me.” Samantha pushed in the slide, transferring the paper towel to the step at the end of the table. She whisked the gown off, leaving me stark naked, my baldness exposed to the nurses. She was much more thorough than anyone who’d examined me, including the hernia surgeon. She commented, “Right hip ecchymosis extends to base of penis.” She lifted my penis looked all around, then pulled on the head, stretching it out. “Uncircumcised. She felt the shaft of my penis with both hands, and then retracted my foreskin. It’s tight, but with some effort my glans showed. She held it between 2 finger of each hand, pried open the slit, and then pulled back the foreskin. She probably took less than 20 seconds. Now she pointed her index finger of the left hand & put it into the top of my scrotum on the right. I felt like I was impaled (which was true). Her probing gloved digit dropped into the hole of the outer ring..
“I think you have minimal effects from the accident,” she said. “I’m worried that you’re not all there. You probably had a concussion”
Irene had slipped back in during the rectal exam. There had been 3 pairs of eyes looking at my butt.
“Can I have my gown back? I didn’t bring any extra clothes. What am I going to wear?”
“We’ll get you some pajama pants to wear,” said, Ted. “But we can’t let you get dressed for a few moments. One of the important things for hospital admissions is that we have to document any scars or injuries that you have at the time of admission. Some patients try to or successfully harm themselves. For example cutting the wrist, for suicide, or just cutting to resolve emotional pain. We don’t want people to accuse us of injuring a patient. So I need to take photos of your injuries and scars.” She had a Polaroid camera with a flash bar and close up attachment. I had no problem as she snapped shots of my head, face and shoulder.
“I need you to stand up, so I can get photos the lower part of your body, where the bruises are,” she said matter-of-factly. I was shocked. She was going to take photos with my genitals showing!!
Samantha said, “These aren’t porno pics. They’re health care documentations. We’re going to keep them separate from your chart, so no one’s going to look at them unless there’s need, if you have further injury issues. Please put your hands behind your neck.” She took the loop of strap holding my wrists together and put it behind my neck, holding my hands on either side of my neck. Now I was hopelessly exposed as Ted snapped photos of the bruises, my 2 hernia scars which showed my penis, & the knee scar.
“I just want a couple more, showing the whole extent of the bruising,” she said. “Please stand up against the wall there, Ted.” Samantha posed me looking straight ahead. I had to stand there naked while the photo popped out. She showed it to me.; a full body picture of me naked wearing leather restraints. “It’s a little over exposed. I can’t see all of the bruising.” She took another one. I had to wait another minute standing naked while the photo came out. While the last photo popped out of the front of the camera & developed, I cowered in the corner with my manacled hands raised. The 2 nurses ignored me while labeling the nude photos with a marking pen, making sure everyone looking at them knew it was me. Finally Irene put down the pen and took a step toward me. This was the low point of my hospital experience so far. Even Nurse Ratched didn’t punish & humiliate her patients by making them stand in a corner naked in restraints. Irene was about 3” taller and maybe 10 pounds heavier. She seemed to tower over me, a threatening evil nurse. I shrank back into the corner; my knees buckled and she now towered a foot over me. She reached over and lifted the strap behind my head.
In tears I pleaded, “Please, no more, Miss.”
She seemed puzzled. “No more what? I’m going to take off your restraints to get you dressed.” As she & Samantha used the Allen wrench to open the locks, she said, “I hope you’re okay now and won’t need the restraints.” When I was free she stood me in front of her and held me by the shoulder. It was the same position my housekeeper had me after I’d been paddled, my pants & shorts at my ankles, genitals exposed. “Promise me you’ll behave, Ted.” Irene even used the same words.
“I’ll behave Miss,” I whimpered.
Samantha handed me the gown. While a lot of people laugh that hospital gowns were designed by the German “Seymour Heinie,” I was grateful not to be stark naked. Samantha poked her head out the door and asked someone to get slippers, a robe, and pajama pants. I couldn’t pull the pants on fast enough.