I was hospitalized last week because of a very stupid mistake on my part. I was drinking heavily and I took two hydrocodone. My friend was afraid I was mixing the two to try to kill myself. I wasn't, but she called the cops anyway. It was documented that I had told my friends, EMS workers, and doctors that I had taken 8 hydrocodone, tylenol, and excessive amounts of alcohol in an attempt to kill myself. I know I hadnt done any of it because I was alert and aware of what was going on until I was taken by the ambulance and given Versed to calm me down (my breathing was pretty uncontrollable and I think I was having a panic attack).Anyway, its amazing how the stuff that gets documented is extremely exaggerated.
After I spent two days in the ER for observation I was sent to an acute stabilization hospital. This is where all the chaos occured, I will try to keep it as brief as possible because I wrote a report on everything happened and it ended up being eight pages long. I ended up with a doctor that would not listen to a word I had to say. I told him that I was basically a very happy person that had a break down due to the accumulation of stress over the past year (I have already completed 30 credits in school during this year and I was attempting to take on another 17 this semester), I had a great life, great friends and family, I just got my own apartment and I even bought a kitten a few weeks ago. The doctor basically told me I was lying, that he didnt believe my "rainbow, butterfly, unicorn story" about being happy, and that I was suicidal and needed to be hospitalized for an unknown duration. He asked about my medication and I told him that I have been on just about every med the past 12 years. I did my best to name as many as I could and then he asked me if I remember anything in the past that helped me even slightly. I told him the only thing that has helped me function normally was my current medication, which I have been on for six years. I was told that it definitely wasnt working anymore and that he was going to take me off of it, even though I stressed to him that was a bad idea.
At that point I started to beg him to speak to my friends and family - people who I speak to every day and know when I am well and when I am sick. I was told that it wasn't his policy to speak to friends/family, and that he had everything he needed to make his diagnosis and decisions in front of him (the stuff that was documented). There were many other things that the doctor and I seemed to butt heads on. I wasnt attending all of the group sessions because honestly, they were pointless - they had three recreational groups during the day. The first two consisted of about 12 people in a crowded room taking turns playing the wii (which only four people can play at a time), if you werent one of the lucky people picked to play wii you sat around watching others play. I would always end up at the table drawing/writing. The other group was movie night - in which a movie was played in the same little room and people sat on horribly uncomfortable plastic lawn chairs. I was flustered by the situation, didnt have the attention span for a movie, and was tired by the time they started the movie at 8 pm. I was threatened multiple times by the doctor that if I didnt attend the groups, I wouldnt get out of the facility. He also told me to thank the state for all of the budget cuts because that was the reason the groups were as they were.
By the fifth day in the hospital, 120+ hours, I had seen the doctor a little over an hour between my two sessions. He was still insistent that I was suicidal and he wouldnt speak to my friends or family. He was taking me off the only medication that has ever helped me and by the fifth day I was withdrawing from it hardcore so i felt like $#%^. By then my mom was beyond frustrated and when she came for visitation that day and she demanded to speak to someone - a nurse, social worker, anyone - no one had given her any information even though i had signed the release for them to keep her updated, and no one would hear anything she had to say. She threatened to hire a civil attorney for me and out of nowhere, the doctor comes into the room and asks to speak with her.
She didnt get anywhere with the doctor either, he still insisted I was suicidal and that he was saving my life. My mom knows me like a book, I tell her everything and she knows when I am good and bad. He told her he was going to push for a title 36 and an involuntary court-ordered treatment. He recommended I be there for 160 days and minimum 90 days. My mom was baffled because locking me up in that facility so I can play wii for 180 days wont help me in the end, if I could go somewhere for treatment she would be for it. I have issues with drinking, stress management and coping skills so by all means I have my vices, but I wasnt suicidal. Keeping me there that long would do more harm than good, I had a life - I have rent and bills to pay, I have been dating someone for the past few months and someone needed to take care of my cat - so after 180 days my life would be in ruins. the doctor proudly mentioned "Dont think 180 days is unheard of, in fact, I just put two people in here for 180 days". He also assured my mom that if I signed the AMA (I was there voluntarily too, I should mention) he would put in his two cents with whoever came to re-evaluate me and that even if I signed it, I would probably end up back there in his care. My mom left the session again assuring the doctor she was still going to hire a civil rights attorney to see what my options were and if my rights were being violated, he got all pissy and left.
That night a nurse came into the room and asked about what happened, I explained everything (in much greater detail than I have here). She left by telling me it would greatly help my case and help me get out of there if I "apologized to the doctor".
The next day, out of nowhere, the doctor is "away for a few days" and a new doctor would be re-evaluating me. I explained everything to the new doctor and he looked slightly baffled himself, he said I had a supportive family and a safe place to go home to and he didnt see why I needed to be there. He also stopped taking me off of the current medication, told me to just hang tight on the current dose and talk to my psychiatrist about what to do as soon as I got out.
I was in the hospital for six days and technically I was only supposed to be there for 72 hours. I went from being told I would be there for a minimum of 90 days to being released the next day. I am afraid that the two people he put in for 180 days were people like me but they just didnt have someone on the outside to fight for them and hire an attorney. I dont think I would have gotten out if my mom hadnt hired the attorney for me. I have never had a doctor treat me so poorly. When I begged him to speak to my friends and family, I was told no. When I told him I wasnt suicidal, I was told I was lying. When I told him I wasnt being helped there, I was told "too bad". Every time I spoke to the man, I just seemed to make him more angry. It was like talking to a wall that was ready to fall down. I am currently in an intensive outpatient treatment program (which is funny because the doctor told me I was incapable of outpatient treatment) and I have many doctors, counselors, and family that will vouch for my mental health and tell you I didnt need to be there that long.
I dont want anything out of this but to make sure this doesnt happen to another person. Where do I go from here? This man is a danger to others and should be in a facility himself.









