A typical psych unit room, this one from Cedar Hills.
Note the uncomfortably thin mattress, which is standard to the field.
Picture taken from the The Oregonian.
It's hard to imagine a hospital bedroom in a psychiatric unit is anything but what it is. There's not much in way of "character," and the character there is only reaffirms the truth of the matter. You are in a psych ward. You are crazy. You are likely a danger to yourself, if not also to others. If nothing else, you somehow disrupt the normal flow of society. The world cannot accommodate your Otherness, so adjustments must be made -- for your own safety, of course.
There is no mirror in the bathroom, for mirrors are easily broken and broken mirror shards make good weapons. The result of this is that everyone's hair looks terrible.
Someone, at some point, had written in Chinese on the wall next to my bed, likely in crayon. It had been painted over again, but in certain light the texture of the letters still show up, a stark matte against a clean, gleaming surface.
I also spent the first few days of my stay being jealous of my roommate, who had two of the substandard pillows instead of just one, and two substandard pillows comes closer to a real pillow than just one, at least in terms of depth measurement. One just has to ignore the weird plastic covering that crinkles with any movement.
The curtains aren't bad, though. They're blackout curtains, so when you completely close them and turn off all the lights, you can't even see your hand in front of your face. Not so good if you're terrified of your roommate standing over you while you sleep, but good if you're a sensitive-to-light sleeper.
If you stay too long in your room, the staff views it as a Bad Sign. They like to coax us out into the open of the unit common area, which is the radial space around the island that is the nurses' station. Ragged books, games and puzzles with pieces missing, uncomfortable chairs -- gee, I wonder why I don't like hanging out in the common area. I'd prefer to stay in my room, 308.
No comments:
Post a Comment