How long do they keep you in a mental hospital

- Actually, no. I already felt bad. Just in the summer of 2018, when I last visited Irkutsk, it all started. The heat was terrible, and I can't stand the sun very well. Arrived in Irkutsk, perhaps already at the peak of depression. Thoughts of suicide were very intrusive, I tried to escape from them.

But it didn't help. She forced herself to get out of bed. When I went out with someone to a meeting, the next day I came to my senses. Nobody noticed, not even my mother. This is the danger of depression, disorders ... This is is not necessarily noticeable . In the summer I reassured myself: it will become cooler - it will feel better. But I returned to my city, autumn came, and my condition worsened.

Few knew what was happening to me. And almost none of them took my condition seriously.

I didn't want to do anything. At all. Tantrums rolled both at home and in public. It's good that the city is big and no one cares. In the metro, I could suddenly feel how everything inside was becoming stiff, as if not mine, and I started crying ... At home, I could turn off and wake up all bruised and scratched. Neither my husband nor I understood what was going on. nine0007

There were days when I woke up with the feeling that everything was over. In a great mood, I managed to complete a bunch of tasks, I felt great. But not for long. As I found out later, these were brief enlightenments typical of mental disorders that knocked me down: I did not go to the doctor for a long time, each time I hoped that I would let go. But after a brief euphoria, apathy set in sharply again.

In the psycho-neurological dispensary

In the spring, I finally recognized the problem and determined to get out of this swamp. I came to the doctor in a psycho-neurological dispensary (PND): I could not afford a private specialist. The doctor, having ruled out hormonal failure and brain tumors after appropriate procedures and tests, was going to send me to a day hospital and prescribe pills. But during this meeting, out of the blue, I had a tantrum. She pricked up her ears and asked if she had suicidal thoughts. I just could not find what to answer, I told the truth ... The doctor groaned and began to write a referral to the psychiatric hospital .

When I heard that they would put me in a clinic, I fell into a stupor. But she didn't argue. The psychiatrist herself called my husband Vanya (I was not able to), explained to him harshly: “She may have a serious illness, she needs medical supervision.” I could only imagine how frightened my husband was. But definitely not stronger than me.

Reception department

Then everything seemed not to happen to me. The orderlies arrived, we went downstairs, and while I took off my dirty shoe covers, one of the men resolutely blocked the path that had opened to another corridor. It was both funny and wild. Since then, I almost always felt like someone was watching me. nine0007

An ambulance took me to the emergency department. A rude woman said that she would register me as a homeless person, because I had no documents. I tried to argue that my husband would bring soon. “When they bring it, then we’ll see, otherwise, , maybe there’s no husband either,” , commented the duty officer.

When you enter the hospital, this envelope is used to pack everything you have.

Everything I had with me had to be handed over. Despite the fact that “they actually didn’t have any storage space anymore.” At the same time, sign a paper, where it was briefly listed: "Phone, tablet, card ...". What phone, what tablet model - nothing was indicated. Accordingly, I could get back no one knows what. It's good that Vanya finally came and saved my things. nine0007

Then I went for a preliminary examination in a separate room. There was a nurse sitting there, who I remember very much, she was one of the few in the whole story who spoke to me like a human being. After the conversation, the woman cut my nails and gave me a nightgown. The neck of the underwear was torn so that when I moved, I showed my chest to the world. But the nurse sighed: there are no other clothes yet. So I had to walk for a week, putting on a shirt back to front, until a new set was issued.

After reviewing the things that Vanya brought (pencils, sketchbooks, books, creams, home clothes), the doctor threw up her hands: “My dear! You can't do all this!" The doctor took out a bag in which she shifted what she could take: toothpaste and a brush, a pair of socks, a few underpants, a roll of toilet paper and pads. That's all. I gave the rest to Vanya. nine0007

Entrance to the hospital building

My room was located in the next building, where we drove for a couple of minutes. In addition to the shirt, I received plaid flannelette pants, a cotton work sheepskin coat and goodbye boots (felt boots or half boots, popular in the USSR).

At the police station, the driver took the coat. In the future, when I had to leave the building (I only went to the clinic and the bathhouse), I received a warm kit, which I gave back upon my return.

I went to the Supervisory Chamber through a special room. It connected the outside world and the department itself. After another conversation with a surprisingly haughty nurse, I received a flannel robe, a medium-sized waffle towel (for everything). Then the girl ordered me to choose slippers from a huge basket, filtered out my already modest belongings once again (after that I had half as many things) and escorted me to the supervisory chamber. nine0007

Supervisory Chamber

The Supervisory Chamber houses patients who have just arrived at the hospital, as well as those who have been transferred - those who have been treated for some time, but in the process they got worse. Here, as in any other ward of the department, the ceiling is high, there are no doors, the renovation is fresh, the floors are washed three times a day (in terms of cleanliness, it is ideal here). Supervision is constantly under the supervision of nurses from the "post", which is clear from the name. I have never seen a "post" empty.

There are 10 beds in the ward, the distance between them is less than a meter. No bedside tables (and what, in fact, to put in them?). On my bunk, covered with an ugly bedspread, lay bed linen. While she was making the bed, she wanted to put her toothbrush in her sock: it was unpleasant to put it on a battered blanket. nine0007

For almost a week I had the right to use only these items.

At the same moment I heard the nurse's remark, she ordered me to show what I was hiding. I explained my plan to the health worker - she left me ... Until she saw that I was not tucking the blanket into the duvet cover: "Not allowed."

Supervisory strict order: if you need to go out, you warn the nurse. And you can only go to the toilet, brush your teeth at the end of the corridor and go to the dining room. Planned exits - to the clinic (but there is usually organized, in pairs) and in the morning, while quartzing is in progress. But in this case, you need to sit next to the ward. nine0007

At the doctor's office

The doctor saw me two hours after I found myself in the supervisory ward. I immediately complained about the nurse who was rude and forced me to use a blanket that I didn't need. “In general, there are no rules about duvet covers, but ... The nurses are the masters here, you need to listen to them,” the doctor shrugged. Doctors are very friendly with nurses who pass on information about patients - I understood this. The medical staff here has unlimited power.

At our first meeting, the doctor said that I would have to stay in the hospital for at least a week: “We need to look at your condition, it lasted for quite a long time.” Later, I found out that for less than a week they didn’t lie here at all. This is the necessary "minimum" for which each patient undergoes an examination, passes a general urine test, blood test, and an HIV test. Even those who came here by accident (and the doctors themselves understood this) go through all the procedures. I met people in the hospital who jokingly cheered themselves up: “At least I cured a tooth here,” “Finally I got rid of cystitis.” nine0007

Doctors in the hospital only prescribe medicines. There is no psychotherapy.

After talking to me, the doctor prescribed medicines, I received them in the evening of the same day from the nurses. The names of the drugs that were given in the hospital, neither I nor any of the other patients knew: this is kept secret. If the patients wanted to know at least something about their medicines, the staff did not stand on ceremony, they could answer very sharply.

Patients

I was very scared in the hospital at first. Patients of varying severity lived side by side with me. nine0007

Some looked like vegetables: their gaze was meaningless, they had zero mobility, they could stay in bed for days on end. Next to me lay a girl with a bright oriental appearance, her mouth was always open, she could lie or sit for a long time, staring at one point.

There were girls who heard voices, suffered from hallucinations or persecution mania. I met a girl who thought she was God. A grandmother with dementia spread oatmeal on her face.

A separate pain for medical staff and patients - an obese, constantly urinating woman, for whom they could not find a suitable diaper. Madame was accompanied by nurses, wiping her wet trail. She yelled romances, recited poetry loudly and covered with selective obscenities everyone who interfered with her in any way. She was later transferred to the violent section. nine0007

Many came here in extremely difficult conditions. Patients were sedated and given sedatives. The girl Nadia was very sick of the sedatives. The nurses, seeing this, did not try to change anything, they only freaked out and even forced this girl, who was barely standing on her feet, to clean up after herself. We then became friends with Nadia.

It was not allowed to go outside, there was no physical activity. The only way to walk is to walk along a long corridor. My bed was right next to the entrance to the corridor. I could not hide from these terrible steps. nine0007

Someone was walking along the corridor in pairs, talking animatedly. Someone was walking nervously, quickly, as if in a hurry somewhere. Someone was walking like a ghost, with a missing face. Someone muttered under his breath.

Terribly sorry for those who got here quite by accident who did not have any disorders. The girl broke up with her boyfriend, came to visit a friend, cried a lot, did not let up for a long time. The mother of a friend said, “This is not normal. We need to call an ambulance." The ambulance arrived, the doctors said that this was not their case, but they could call another brigade. And then they called a brigade of a psychiatric hospital. The girl just reacted sharply to the doctors’ formulaic phrase “Life goes on”, saying that she had a stupid life and she didn’t want to live it (once again: be careful with statements about suicide). Voila! She's in a mental hospital. For a week. Bypasses doctors at a "minimum". nine0007

Supervised and regular ward

Five days after my arrival at the psychiatric hospital, I was transferred to a supervised ward. The advantage is that you can freely walk along the corridor and go to the toilet without asking permission. You are still being watched by a nurse. It is allowed to have personal items: comb, towel, face and body cream, shower gel, shampoo, home clothes.

Even in a hospital one wants to be clean and well-groomed.

A day later I was transferred to a regular ward, by the toilet, where there was no strict supervision - it became easier. But there I watched every morning and evening performances from orderlies and smokers. nine0007

In fact, smoking is strictly prohibited in the hospital. But not all nurses liked to clean up and therefore used the work of smokers. After quartzing , patients washed the corridors, toilets and rooms . Then they stood in line, and the paramedics gave them cigarettes.

Strange nurses and orderlies

70 percent of the staff behaved terribly. But there were also truly humane employees. A little. When adequate nurses and our beloved nurse were on duty Tanyusha , the shower room was opened an hour earlier or closed an hour later (more on the shower room in the "Hygiene" section). I’ll tell you separately about Tanyusha, she was very cool: she washed the floors herself, and she gave cigarettes to smoking girls just like that. She also skillfully cut her nails, very carefully (and this was necessary, scissors and files were not allowed in the clinic), we called this procedure "Tanyusha's nail salon."

In total, together with Tanya, only three employees spoke to us like a human being: not in disgust, not arrogantly, but as with normal members of society. The rest did not hesitate to take out their anger on the patients. nine0007

There was one who screamed all the time. She didn't speak calmly at all. When they made a remark to her, she yelled that she was not screaming, that was her voice.

The other two loved washing bones. With everyone. The pills that patients took before admission to the hospital were agreed with the doctor. I had those. Once, during the dispensing of medicines, a nurse asked me with feigned amazement: “What are these, contraceptives?” Loudly enough for everyone in line to hear. "How old are you?!". Another nurse stood nearby: “She’s 25, she’s actually been married for a bunch of years, it’s time for her to give birth, and she drinks hormones.” “You tie them up, you won’t fly in later!”. They issued me, I left the queue in extreme embarrassment. nine0007

I'm not talking about situations when orderlies could inspect the nightstand without the knowledge of the patient, or when employees forgot to write down whether they gave a pill or not. There were several stories when they forced to drink an antibiotic or a serious psychotropic drug twice. They did not take our word for it that we had already drunk, they apparently believed that it was better to give more than not to give.

Nurses always check if the patient has swallowed his tablets.

They did not allow to laugh and cry. If she cried (felt when she met her husband) - they reported to the doctor, they had to explain. If you laughed, they made a remark. Although under the influence of my drugs at first I constantly wanted to laugh - euphoria, a normal symptom when taking such drugs. nine0007

I once read a book, there was a chapter about psychiatric hospitals at the dawn of their existence. The doctor revealed a formula for what conditions should be in the clinic so that patients feel better. Simple things: delicious food and daily regular hygiene . We had big problems with both.

Hygiene

It was very difficult to keep myself clean and comfortable. As I already said, in a regular ward, which they transfer to, when the doctor considers it possible, they are already allowed to have more hygiene items. But for now I'm was kept under supervision for 5 days, I was supposed to have only a toothbrush and toothpaste. I had to ask for shower gel and shampoo from other girls. With creams it was tight, meanwhile, my skin was terribly dry.

I had to invent my own cosmetic procedures. For example, I soaked a waffle towel and vigorously rubbed my face. This is the scrub. I also folded toilet paper several times, moistened it with water and applied this compress to my nose. Hydration. Yes, the orderlies looked askance at me, but I was already in a madhouse . At least here you can afford to be strange?

You can shower when the shower is open. Every day in the morning, an hour before breakfast, and in the evening there is an hour after dinner. In 60 minutes, 25-30 people should have time to wash. It was possible to wash only in parts. Two queues, you choose which one to take: at the bidet or at the bathroom, where you can wash your hair or feet. If you wash too often, according to the staff, you can hear a reproach: “You were in the bathhouse on Friday, why do you need to wash your hair on Monday?”. nine0007

On Friday, a shower was organized for the patients, the rest were taken to the bathhouse. For 2.5 weeks of stay in the hospital, I got there once. These were pre-revolutionary baths. Old tiles, iron basins, three showers. I knew girls who did not like this bath very much, fell into a panic: they were embarrassed by naked people and that they had to undress in front of strangers. I, despite the fact that it was difficult to call this place comfortable, liked it there.

Either I just really wanted to wash myself properly, or the pills prescribed for me painted everything in more pleasant colors. nine0007

Disgusting food

All food was served lukewarm. One could not console oneself with the hope of finding at least a piece of meat in soup or anywhere else. I was surprised that even the cooks could not cook potatoes properly: some kind of potato porridge with water was floating in the plate. Do they cook at home for the family? Why do they bully people so much at work?

It was impossible not to go to the canteen. This means that you refuse food. Another reason for the orderlies to think about your condition and tell the doctor about you. Once, one of the nurses in the dining room decided to distribute cheese to everyone not from a tray, but by grabbing it with her hands. I did not touch the product, which, of course, was reported to my doctor. He then talked to me why I eat badly - after all, this is a deviation from the norm. I explained that eating in the dining room is extremely difficult. nine0007

Most of the patients did not like the kitchen, but their opinion was not taken into account.

The doctor took note, but what will he do? Once, only a message about a possible check affected the kitchen. Patients were extremely surprised at how deliciously cooks can cook. The food was warm! I have never eaten better pea porridge in my life. We saw real pieces of meat in cabbage! But, alas, they only fed them for one day.

It was possible to eat properly only when friends and relatives brought homemade food in a container. We ate right at the meeting, you can’t take it with you to the ward. Transfers (fruits, chocolate, cookies) were allowed - their nurses put them in separate plastic baskets. Treats were allowed to be taken two hours before breakfast or an hour before bedtime. nine0007

Visit

Patient visits took place in the canteen on Saturdays and Wednesdays from 12:00 to 14:00 and from 16:00 to 17:00. Relatives could take permission from a doctor and take you for a walk. But you can only walk around the territory, where it is very dirty and unsightly, like after the bombing. I preferred to communicate within.

During the visit, you cannot even use other people's phones, say hello to your mother: "I'm here, everything is fine with me." (My mother lives in Irkutsk, when she found out that I was in the hospital, of course, she was very worried.) My friend once went to the trick during our meeting: she hid the phone in her sleeve so that I could record a voice message. nine0007

You can call your loved ones only in the presence of a doctor (when he has time) and only on business: “When are you coming? I need to bring something." The question "How are you?" no longer on the case, the doctor interrupted immediately. But when I was discharged, I learned from another doctor that, it turns out, “everyone is allowed to call on demand and without any special restrictions.”

Leisure

Time passes slowly here, the choice of activities is extremely poor: the piano (rarely anyone sat down at it), TV (Soloviev’s programs or the Charmed series were constantly on), board games (at first, while everyone around was frightening, there is no one to play with). I saved myself with books in the dining room cupboard, mostly classics, I read five books in two weeks. nine0007

While the patients were playing board games, their nightstands were checked by orderlies.

Safety

Patients are strongly guarded against suicide. The toilets do not lock the door, there are no mirrors and no hard soap.

You can not stand and look out the window in the corridor . The windows in the bars overlook the courtyard, only staff can open and close them.

In an ordinary ward, you can look out the window as much as you like, no one is watching you there. But another problem appears: every morning begins with airing. In general, this is a very useful event, but not when it drags on for the whole day, but it's cold outside. nine0007

My new friend Nadya brought stockings instead of socks - was taken away. Apparently, with them you can also create some kind of suicide.

The light is always on in the common corridor, you never find yourself in total darkness . So those who cannot sleep in the light experience discomfort.

Sometimes we used towels as a sleep mask: we folded them several times and put them over our eyes.

Another safety measure is that there is no hot water in the faucet, only warm water. It dawned on me later, when I went to a cafe after the hospital. I went to wash my hands and burned badly, out of habit, unscrewing the tap until it stops. nine0007

As I was leaving, I heard from a nurse that it turned out that all the game that I noted in the hospital was nonsense. Compared to other departments of the hospital, this is heaven on earth. Elsewhere, for more difficult patients, is much dirtier, and the treatment of patients is much harsher than .

Statement

The date of statement is not told to anyone until the last. They can say: “On Friday we will inform you when we are discharged.” I have been waiting for this day since Monday, counting the minutes. On Friday, the doctor said: “Well, yes, since nothing is bothering you, we will announce the discharge date next week.” nine0007

So, in great excitement, I lived until Monday, my relatives were also worried all weekend, they knew that information should appear on Friday. The doctor called when the husband was almost there (he could not stand the news and came himself along with relatives). They were accepted, agreed on my discharge on Tuesday.

Before I was discharged, the doctor called me into the office. And only then explained what happened to me in general. Before that, I had not been told anything about my diagnosis. I was told that I experienced depression, but there are no pathologies in the body, I need to take antidepressants for a year, and then slowly give them up. If I don't notice any deterioration, great. If not, try to correct with a psychiatrist or... welcome back! They didn't make a diagnosis, they just gave me a certificate and a packet of medication for the first day. At the dispensary, a new prescription was already written out for me according to the doctor's records. nine0007

What do I think about treatment?

Of course, in my case, it was not at all necessary to get here. You could just take drugs under the supervision of a good doctor. But in the dispensary, the doctor decided to save me from suicide by writing a ticket to the "psychiatric hospital". Radical, well…

It is clear from the story that the conditions for recovery in the hospital are not the best. I was lucky that I was relatively quickly selected the right drugs, from which I felt better.

You could say that I got off easy. nine0007

But maybe not as lucky as my Nadia. She was kept for about two months, it did not help her at all, and only on the basis of a request from her relatives, the girl was discharged. Now she is in the day hospital.

Antidepressants are not good either. After the first week of euphoria, you are sure to have the opposite effect: everything becomes grayer. For example, you do not recognize the taste of food at first. In addition, after complete isolation, for a long time my head still travels from the informational noise and the abundance of people around (once again the question is, why so restrict from calls and the Internet?). nine0007

From side effects: I still don't feel an orgasm. I sweat a lot at night. But, in any case, I feel like a man: I want to live, work, I look at things more positively, I don’t fall into hysterics. The time when I have to give up pills, and I wait and I'm afraid. It is not known what will happen next. But the second time in the hospital, I would not want to be. I don't wish this experience on anyone.

My friend's story stunned me, I thought about many things... But the main thing that bothered me was how long neither Sasha, nor friends, nor relatives sounded the alarm. No one noticed that the girl was not just bored, she was sick. Maybe if we had realized the problem earlier, this story would not have happened. So how do you recognize depression? How to distinguish a disease from a bad mood? And how not to bring yourself to the hospital? We will talk about this with experts in the next article. nine0006