Editor’s Pick
OCTOBER 13, 2009 10:07PM
What does a crazy look like: An ex-psych orderly weighs in
Ok--let me be clear--this description refers to the zany clients of Ward 10 (a locked unit) in the residential treatment place I used to work:
Ok, so let me reveal something to you about what a crazy teenager looks like. For the most part, they look like you or I did at that age: jeans, sneakers, questionable style sense, gawky. Even the kids labled as "mentally retarded" don't (in most cases) look any different from the "normal functioning" kids.
But there were a select few that --just by looking at them-give off a vibe of "weird". Sometimes it's something in their appearnce. A glassy pop-eyed stare, perhaps, a disproportionately small head, or flipper-type fingers that are the little red flags we, as psych orderlies, use to suss out the really crazy from the garden variety depressives and drug addicts.
Now, the really odd clients usually had an attending odor. With regards to the boys, it was often a mix of stale socks, unbrushed teeth, urine, and (if you're really lucky) a whiff of whatever snack food they've just finished licking off their fingers. With the ladies, the smell took on a slighly different note: cocoa butter lotion, body odor, and a whiff of something metallic, like wet blood.
The unusual smell and appearance of these boys and girls was not lost on their (more normal--if there was such a thing in a locked ward) peers within the unit. In a moment of mean spiritedness, a child may point out a peer's smell, physical deformity or peculiar way of dressing to the rest of the group. I once worked with a boy, who had a very noticible scar that ran down the middle of his head. Peers would cry out, "You look like an Arby's head" (in reference to the Arby's logo of a cowboy hat with a dent in the top.) Another time, while I was running a therapy group, a male client yelled at a female peer with a gap in her two front teeth, "Your teeth are so ugly, they make your tongue look like it's in jail." Cruel, yes. But also funny as hell. It took all my will power that day not to laugh at THAT comment.
But there were a select few that --just by looking at them-give off a vibe of "weird". Sometimes it's something in their appearnce. A glassy pop-eyed stare, perhaps, a disproportionately small head, or flipper-type fingers that are the little red flags we, as psych orderlies, use to suss out the really crazy from the garden variety depressives and drug addicts.
Now, the really odd clients usually had an attending odor. With regards to the boys, it was often a mix of stale socks, unbrushed teeth, urine, and (if you're really lucky) a whiff of whatever snack food they've just finished licking off their fingers. With the ladies, the smell took on a slighly different note: cocoa butter lotion, body odor, and a whiff of something metallic, like wet blood.
The unusual smell and appearance of these boys and girls was not lost on their (more normal--if there was such a thing in a locked ward) peers within the unit. In a moment of mean spiritedness, a child may point out a peer's smell, physical deformity or peculiar way of dressing to the rest of the group. I once worked with a boy, who had a very noticible scar that ran down the middle of his head. Peers would cry out, "You look like an Arby's head" (in reference to the Arby's logo of a cowboy hat with a dent in the top.) Another time, while I was running a therapy group, a male client yelled at a female peer with a gap in her two front teeth, "Your teeth are so ugly, they make your tongue look like it's in jail." Cruel, yes. But also funny as hell. It took all my will power that day not to laugh at THAT comment.
There once was a client I work with, whom his peers nicknamed, "Puerto Rican Jesus" (ok that was me, but whatever). The name, in a perverse way,was really appropos. This particualr client has long, dark, flowing ringlets and a dark mustache. His hair coupled with his carriage and demeanor make me think he looks like a cross between a Biblical figure and Charles Manson. It also didn't help that he.........spoke.....really.....really.......really.......slowly. And oh yeah, and believed he was god's gift to women, everywhere.
Ok so admittedly, making fun of the appearance of others is--particularly when it's something they can't change--unkind--actually it's downright cruel. (But what's crueler still are the circumstances that led to these teens looking and acting the way they do: neglectful and abusive family members. Parents who have these kids, then expect the schools and the state to raise them. Parents unwilling, out of selfishness or pride, to say "Hey, I'm out of my depth with this whole parenting thing. Why don't I give my kid over to protective services." Or worst of all, the selfish moms who continue to use and drink with no thought to the health of the baby they're carrying. Ok--I'll get off the soapbox and put away my megaphone now.)
Anyway, yeah it's cruel to pick on those less fortunate than most. Well, I've worked as a psych orderly, group therapist, and now a therapist to inner city at risk kids for close to 7 years. My karma is shored up. Surely, Mother Theresa looked around at the lepers in her shelter somedays and inwardly thought, "Eww" And if she says she didn't?
Then she's a BOLD FACED LIAR!
Ok so admittedly, making fun of the appearance of others is--particularly when it's something they can't change--unkind--actually it's downright cruel. (But what's crueler still are the circumstances that led to these teens looking and acting the way they do: neglectful and abusive family members. Parents who have these kids, then expect the schools and the state to raise them. Parents unwilling, out of selfishness or pride, to say "Hey, I'm out of my depth with this whole parenting thing. Why don't I give my kid over to protective services." Or worst of all, the selfish moms who continue to use and drink with no thought to the health of the baby they're carrying. Ok--I'll get off the soapbox and put away my megaphone now.)
Anyway, yeah it's cruel to pick on those less fortunate than most. Well, I've worked as a psych orderly, group therapist, and now a therapist to inner city at risk kids for close to 7 years. My karma is shored up. Surely, Mother Theresa looked around at the lepers in her shelter somedays and inwardly thought, "Eww" And if she says she didn't?
Then she's a BOLD FACED LIAR!
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Mick Stevens
liza Donnelly
Kerry Lauerman
Joan Walsh
Salon.com
Comments
If it had been posted as an example of how ugly certain writers here at OS can be, then I'd understand.
It particularly concerns me that you identify yourself as a child therapist, then comment about parents being responsible for the way their teenage children whom you refer to as crazy "look and act".....
I guess if this was 1962 you'd be pointing me out as a classic example of a "refrigerator mom".
How brilliant. If only we were all as intelligent as yourself, with your witty observations of the particularly offensive odors one might catch a whiff of in a residential facility. Did it ever occur to you that if yourself and the other employees were doing their jobs with due diligence, such scents would not be smelled? Where is your rant about the neglect and abuse by yourself and fellow staff?
How sad it is that you are in a position to help the most vunerable in our society, and you chose to remember them by their "ugly teeth" and "urine smell". I hope if you ever become incapacitated, your caregivers will come here to OS and write brilliant posts about your obsessive love of snow, or the way they felt when you smiled as they walked in. Not your icky dandruff, or anything else you can't control.
I'd be tickled pink to read that they blamed the strange behaviors and unfortunate hygine issues of a confused 78 year old man on HIS parents, however........
I have spent time visiting my late brother in various psychiatric hospitals and what is written here is often true. I might wish that it had been a bit better written, but that's my only quibble.
You may be right about Mother Theresa having had those thoughts like you. One thing is for sure, like you, she kept on doing what she could knowing it was an unending river.
If you have to laugh to get through it, then by all means laugh. Please don't give up because I couldn't do it knowing it would never end.
As you for, you may never speak for me unless you (and this is highly unlikely) have ESP.
I have been inside of every type of medical facility that exists. And the people who work there, just like plumbers, police officers, teachers, every profession, consist of: good, bad, and mediocre.
I can't say which one the writer is.
However, working mental health can be one of the most frustrating and draining jobs there is. Working a ward can be like living in a Tim Burton movie with no escape for eight to ten hours. So if you can't or don't tear it down at least sometimes, you become a pressure cooker.
This is no different than cops making fun of the shit they see, or the things people who work in ERs say about the shit they see. Everybody makes fun of their job.
We find any treatment of this subject outside of reverent to be despicable because of the blameless nature of the condition. But blameless as it is, doesn't mean there aren't things that are funny. And it doesn't mean because someone sees it as funny that they don't give the best care they can.
I understand the sting you feel if you are one that has or does suffer in this arena. It's a fucking hard road to travel. But though it may not be AS hard, it can be a tough trip for the ones trying to help you as well.
Understanding goes both ways.
I can certainly see how some would be offended. But, really, give us a break. We're there because we care. We just need relief some times.
I thought your comment was well put. I must say with regards to dealing with the clients on the ward--yes-- it was very hard. I worked with an amazing crew of staffers who bent over backwards for clients. (I heart you Cottage 10 Staff--you know who you are!!)
There were days when it felt like being a Tim Burton movie--that's a good analogy!! If we couldn't laugh about what happened--we would have cried. And at some point, all of our team broke down in tears over what we witnessed or experienced.
From my time working on a ward, I've watched countless staffers get spit on, have poop thrown at them (several times), get punched so many times in the head they've gotten concussions, get bitten, get their hands smashed to the point they required surgery. I've experienced some of those same things to. Never once did any of us lose our cool. Those staffers who did retaliate--verbally or otherwise--would be fired. Simple as that.
No--all you out there--these kids did not do this damage out of rage at the staffers. We staffers suffered these injuries while protecting our children from harming other clients or themselves.
When a staffer would get injured protecting the clients from each other, the danger level in the ward skyrocketed! Other clients on the ward would immeadiately find out that a staffer(s) had been hurt. THEN THOSE CLIENTS would then try to attack to kid who (accidentally) hurt the staff member. On days like that, I was glad I had loaded up on caffiene. . .
so much better....
where the inmates ARE running the asylum, wink
ps have you seen "girl interrupted"? good movie.
I think one goes through something akin to Elizabeth Kubler Ross's stages of grieving. Once I could enter acceptance that this is what my life will be then I could let some of the gallows humor peek through and she could too. Once she was in a period of hallucinations and she said The Village People were visiting her. Me: Whadda they want?
She: Me to come join them and everything will be peaceful.
Me: Sounds nice, how can that happen?
She: Well I guess I have to die because they keep talking about 'crossing over'.
Me: Well tell them to take a hike and that that dog won't hunt.
She: I can do that?
Me: I don't know...can you? because you need to get squared away with that and sooner rather than later. It's a pretty permanent solution to what will be a temporary problem.
She (brightening) :Oh...okay
Sheesh! I'm in the kitchen rattling the pots and pans when this is happening and holding my breath inside....it worked and we both share some macabre humor on a regular basis. I hope you and your daughter can reach that place soon. It does proved oft-much needed relief.
Nothing surprising there. I suspect strongly that if the second-coming ever took place (or has already taken place) Jesus would be shuffled straight off to Bellvue... His first offense? Believing himself to be a messiah. His second-through-NN offenses? Gathering a following and performing miracles.
But lets address a few things you babbling fucking baboon: There is no cure for mental illness, there is management of mental illness. Mental illness in the spectrum of autism, bi-polar, schizophrenia, are neurological disorders. Things such as Borderline Personality Disorder are more closely rooted in behavioral issues created by environment.
All the arguments and disagreements about nature/nurture causation aside, (lets not start up on that one here people,); there isn't anyone trying book passage for people on the trains to death camps. (1940s Germany, yes. 21 century America; not so much.)
The entertainment industry is populated more by people of liberal leanings then goose stepping jackboots renting backhoes to dig mass graves. I watch a lot movies and read a lot of books, and I am not a card carrying member of the Dick Cheney Fan Club, nor have I felt the overwhelming impulse to go on a killing spree at Bellevue. (Wal-Mart; maybe.)
As for, “..helping to raise the next generation of volunteers for America's Death's Head Regiment.” I don't remember the first one, so maybe I over slept or something.
Look, you're just s fucking idiot. So do the world and yourself a favor and eBay off your ILSA, SHE WOLF OF THE SS box-set, and pick up a copy of Finding Nemo or something. (Unless you think they're fascist fish or something.)
Walk Away; you're never going to find it funny, and there's no reason someone in your situation would. Having a bi-polar child is not only trying, it at times can be dangerous depending on the nature on the sufferer. But she's not making fun of your child, she's making fun of an environment. It wasn't the best written communication of that, (sorry, please don't take the too much to heart,) but like I said before, just because she says it here, doesn't mean she acts on it there. You have all my admiration, I do know how hard it can be to manage someone who suffers from that. I've done it, though not with a family member.
you're in the wrong business. you've lost that loving feeling cookie. and that's one thing you can't afford to lose in your business.
You say in your last paragraph:
"Anyway, yeah it's cruel to pick on those less fortunate than most. Well, I've worked as a psych orderly, group therapist, and now a therapist to inner city at risk kids for close to 7 years. My karma is shored up. Surely, Mother Theresa looked around at the lepers in her shelter somedays and inwardly thought, "Eww" And if she says she didn't?
Then she's a BOLD FACED LIAR!"
no. not a liar. she was compassionate. but she was a saint, if you believe in saints. I don't. I see her as an extremely compassionate woman.
so sainthood is out. most humans can't sacrifice for the sake of it, for ever and ever. it's not real. but still...I believe particularly in the business you're in, which is trying to help the helpless, the disempowered, the deranged, the mentally ill, that there's a level of cynicism that can creep up on you and in a way destroy you and what you hope to achieve. you're not on the same level as they are. no one is. the problem is they're not on OUR level. they've fallen to the mental wayside. you'e chosen to be there to help. and helping I think means resisting finding them and their myriad of dysfunctions amusing.
in reality, like anyone, there but for the grace of god or destiny or better genes to fall back..there but for circumstances beyond go you or I. or anyone.
my mother was critically mentally ill. terribly brutally sick. she collapsed into herself with mindboggling regularity. the system was so cynical and harsh, she flew out of it, never to return, growing sicker and sicker and more detached from reality.
that's not your fault. I'm not saying it is. but the picture you paint and the words you use to describe the mentally ill are hurtful and sad to read. hurtful to me because it reminds me that treatment is offered by people who can forget themselves and even for a moment permit themselves the luxury of disregarding humans at their most delicate and vulnerable, the people they've committed to working with and for. maybe it doesn't matter. okay. but I wanted you to understand why I posted what I did.
I understand workplace gallows humor. I'm aware that nurses and therapists have a giggle at the expense of their charges in any institution--but in publishing this as a humor piece with a distinct, "look at me I'm edgy and cool!" attitude you have taken the treatment of the mentally ill to a new low.