This incident happened many years ago when I was working in the ‘locked’ inpatient psych/addiction scene. We had a patient whom I shall Timmy throughout this story.
Timmy was a regular at our facility; as he was at many other facilities throughout the area since his early adolescent years. At this point in time, he was 33 years old.
When he arrived to us this time he had lost a substantial amount of weight. He was down to a svelte 400 hundred pounds. During a lengthy commitment to one of our state facilities he had shot up as high as 600 pounds. They decided at that point to more closely monitor his food intake (good idea huh?)
His primary diagnosis was schizophrenia coupled to recent episodes of binging and purging. He I.Q. had been tested out over the years to be that of an eight to ten year old; his behavior was indicative of this range.
Timmy liked to hang-out with me on the unit and tell me all his jokes and stories (he knew I was still performing on the comedy scene a couple of evenings a week). I would laugh heartily after almost every joke or story he would tell me; not so much due to the content, but rather for the way he would crack himself up!
At this particular hospital the patients would order their meals for the following day when they were having breakfast the day before.
I had come in to work a day shift on the morning of the incident (7am start). Breakfast usually arrived around 8:30.
On this particular morning the patients were pulling their trays from the food cart and heading into the dining room. Timmy had just sat down and had lifted the cover off the top of the tray when I could hear him in an uproar.
I raced over to him. Timmy what is the matter? Willy, I ordered Coco Puffs and they didn’t send them up! I told him I would call down to kitchen and have them sent up. He was annoyed but seemed satisfied with my response.
I went into the staff room and phoned down to the kitchen to request that “Coco Puffs” be delivered to our unit. They informed me that they were out but that they were expecting a shipment that afternoon so he would be able to have them the next morning for breakfast.
I had a feeling (and not a good one) of what was going to happen next when I went back to tell him the news. As I did so I could see his face get beat-red and he started to breath heavily. I’m sorry Timmy, I said to him. He did not respond he just kept staring at his tray.
As I walked back to the front desk area that is when all hell broke loose. Timmy had decided that if he could not have what he wanted for breakfast, then no one could have breakfast.
He jumped up and started racing around the dining area flipping over everyone else’s trays and knocking over tables and chairs. As the patients ran out of the dining room I knew I had to take some sort of action.
The dining area had three columns on the outside edge of the main area. Knowing his intellectual age level and his love of humor I did the following: I would jump out from behind a column and yell, ‘pick-a-boo,’ and wiggle my fingers at him with my thumbs in my ears then jump back behind the column. After about the third time doing this he stopped his rampage and he yelled to me, ‘Willy don’t make me laugh!’ After several more times doing this he began to laugh uncontrollably.
I figured it should be safe to enter the kitchen with him in that state of mind and it was. ‘Timmy, why don’t we go down to your room and talk for a while. What do you say? ‘O.k. Willy, we can do that.’
So ended the ‘rampage.’
I could not help chuckling later on that day thinking that for Timmy the Coco Puffs slogan in addition to, “I’m Coo-Coo for Coco Puffs,” could also be in his case, “I’m Coo-Coo WITHOUT Coco Puffs.”
Peace, Out
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The Girl With The Basketball
I remembered her from a couple of previous stays at our detox. When she came into treatment I always wondered why she would have a basketball with her. After her assessment was done I decided to sit with her and listen to what she had been up to recently, and maybe ask a few questions of my own.
So Melissa, what brings you into detox this time, I asked her. “I guess two grams of heroin a day qualifies me for treatment, huh?” She then let out a slight chuckle. Yea, that’s a pretty good habit you’ve got going there, (or should I say quite an unhealthy habit).
What have you been up to besides the obvious, I asked her. She responded, “Just hanging around Boston, booting and shooting hoops.”
You know, the last couple of times you were in I meant to ask you, what’s up with always having a basketball with you? Usually opiate people just want to nod off after they boot. I could sense uneasiness before she answered. “When I’m high I like to shoot hoop all day at the playgrounds around Boston.” Why? “B-Ball lets me feel o.k. with myself and everything else.”
How long have you been doing that? “Since my high school days.” Did you play basketball in high school? “Yea, I was on the varsity squad from freshman year on.”
Where did you grow up, from your southern accent I can tell it wasn’t around The Boston area.
“I grew up in South Carolina.” “How did you end up in the Boston area?” “One of my teammates from college was from around here so I came back with her after graduation.
Then when my habit grew, she asked me to leave, I can’t say I blame her though.”
Teammates? So you played college ball? There was a pause on her part and then a silence that seemed like hours. The look on her face was distant, as if she were in another time and place. Then she responded, “Those were the best times. We were National Champions in 19--and 19--.” A slight smile came across her face, and then she looked down at the desk.
Part of me was questioning the validity of her statements. However, the longer I worked at the detox the more incredible the power of addiction became apparent to me. Never discount anything a patient says to you until you check it out.
What was family life like, I asked her. Her head came up from staring at the desk; she looked me right in the eye, and said, “Hell, a living fucking hell. My daddy use to like to tuck me in at night a little too much, if you know what I mean.” I just nodded my head; she didn’t have to explain anything further.
So what do you think Melissa, are you open to maybe a half-way house as part of your discharge plan this time? “I don’t know Willy, I don’t think I can take the rules and all the bullshit that goes with being in a half-way house.” Melissa, this is what, your third time here, it seems to me that you really don’t have anything to lose by trying a half-way house, huh?
“I don’t know,” she stated again. I’m thinking that a half-way house might give you a chance to work on your trauma issues in a safe supportive environment, right? I could sense her brain working through what I had just said to her. I was hoping that the fear of change would not sidetrack her.
I am still amazed after all the years I have in the field to see people not make changes due to their fears. They often times will stay in an unhealthy situation simply because they know what to expect, or, what not to expect from day to day. I will have XYZ amount of misery today but that’s what I expect. Sort of the certainty of uncertainty.
Melissa did go to a woman’s half-way house when she left us. To this day I do not know what became of her after that. I would like to think that she got herself squared away; maybe she is even coaching a woman’s basketball team somewhere.
By the way, I did check out her basketball background and son-of-a-gun, Melissa was on two National Championship NCAA teams in Women’s Basketball.
So Melissa, what brings you into detox this time, I asked her. “I guess two grams of heroin a day qualifies me for treatment, huh?” She then let out a slight chuckle. Yea, that’s a pretty good habit you’ve got going there, (or should I say quite an unhealthy habit).
What have you been up to besides the obvious, I asked her. She responded, “Just hanging around Boston, booting and shooting hoops.”
You know, the last couple of times you were in I meant to ask you, what’s up with always having a basketball with you? Usually opiate people just want to nod off after they boot. I could sense uneasiness before she answered. “When I’m high I like to shoot hoop all day at the playgrounds around Boston.” Why? “B-Ball lets me feel o.k. with myself and everything else.”
How long have you been doing that? “Since my high school days.” Did you play basketball in high school? “Yea, I was on the varsity squad from freshman year on.”
Where did you grow up, from your southern accent I can tell it wasn’t around The Boston area.
“I grew up in South Carolina.” “How did you end up in the Boston area?” “One of my teammates from college was from around here so I came back with her after graduation.
Then when my habit grew, she asked me to leave, I can’t say I blame her though.”
Teammates? So you played college ball? There was a pause on her part and then a silence that seemed like hours. The look on her face was distant, as if she were in another time and place. Then she responded, “Those were the best times. We were National Champions in 19--and 19--.” A slight smile came across her face, and then she looked down at the desk.
Part of me was questioning the validity of her statements. However, the longer I worked at the detox the more incredible the power of addiction became apparent to me. Never discount anything a patient says to you until you check it out.
What was family life like, I asked her. Her head came up from staring at the desk; she looked me right in the eye, and said, “Hell, a living fucking hell. My daddy use to like to tuck me in at night a little too much, if you know what I mean.” I just nodded my head; she didn’t have to explain anything further.
So what do you think Melissa, are you open to maybe a half-way house as part of your discharge plan this time? “I don’t know Willy, I don’t think I can take the rules and all the bullshit that goes with being in a half-way house.” Melissa, this is what, your third time here, it seems to me that you really don’t have anything to lose by trying a half-way house, huh?
“I don’t know,” she stated again. I’m thinking that a half-way house might give you a chance to work on your trauma issues in a safe supportive environment, right? I could sense her brain working through what I had just said to her. I was hoping that the fear of change would not sidetrack her.
I am still amazed after all the years I have in the field to see people not make changes due to their fears. They often times will stay in an unhealthy situation simply because they know what to expect, or, what not to expect from day to day. I will have XYZ amount of misery today but that’s what I expect. Sort of the certainty of uncertainty.
Melissa did go to a woman’s half-way house when she left us. To this day I do not know what became of her after that. I would like to think that she got herself squared away; maybe she is even coaching a woman’s basketball team somewhere.
By the way, I did check out her basketball background and son-of-a-gun, Melissa was on two National Championship NCAA teams in Women’s Basketball.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Thoughts from the Summah so Fahhh
Let’s see, another legislative session ended at the State House in Boston on July 31st and once again, LADC-I’s were not granted vendorship rights (third party billing).
I guess since the overdose deaths dropped to under 600 people last year, why would the Commonwealth want the people they license as addiction specialists, to join the other disciplines in the battle against overdose deaths. Only makes sense, right?
Many of my former students recently took the CADC exam. Congratulations to those that passed and to those that did not, try to not become disheartened. Many of you are discussing the formation of study groups before the next exam. Please let me know how I can help out. I am a firm believer that once a person completes a class with me, my obligation does not end there.
Some of you may have noticed that I never talk about where I work Monday through Friday.
I can’t. We were required by the company to sign a corporate agreement several months ago whereby we can never discuss where we work in any form of “social media.” It said something about dismemberment if we did.
That’s too bad. We do some wonderful work (patient’s comments; although I would not disagree with them, lol). The people I work with are tremendous. I would mention them by name, but, you know, I can’t.
I was thinking the other day if you had told me twenty-six years ago where I would be at this point of my life, I would have laughed at you. Amazing what a ‘little’ sobriety will do for a person.
Vacation time for my wife and I be here shortly; the last week in August. Usually we head Down East to Maine. This year we will go farther Down East to my wife’s family homestead in Nova Scotia. It has been way too long. A couple of good books, taking walks on country roads, having “Lobster Nova Scotia” (lobster stuffed with lobster), basically ‘kicking back.’ The environment is one that mentally ‘slams’ on the brakes for you.
I have been getting my course materials ready for the fall. I will be teaching four courses so like a good boy scout, ‘I will be prepared.’
I love teaching. Those of us that teach should be life-long students. Nothing worse than a tenured teacher that has been running with the same syllabus for twenty-years (ah, information changes or gets updated).
There are several projects I have been working on and this fall should see several of them come to fruition. Several career moves will be coming up in September also.
I am back into hard-core workouts again; hour and a-half on the trend-mill on an incline (pulsing 140-150) then crunches, then lifting (every other day). I also do 100 push-ups everyday (first set 40, then sets of 10 until I reach 100).
Well, that’s it for now. Later tonight I will be writing a story about an inpatient patient I had once that went a rampage until I injected a little levity into the situation.
As my oldest son would say,
Peace, Out
I guess since the overdose deaths dropped to under 600 people last year, why would the Commonwealth want the people they license as addiction specialists, to join the other disciplines in the battle against overdose deaths. Only makes sense, right?
Many of my former students recently took the CADC exam. Congratulations to those that passed and to those that did not, try to not become disheartened. Many of you are discussing the formation of study groups before the next exam. Please let me know how I can help out. I am a firm believer that once a person completes a class with me, my obligation does not end there.
Some of you may have noticed that I never talk about where I work Monday through Friday.
I can’t. We were required by the company to sign a corporate agreement several months ago whereby we can never discuss where we work in any form of “social media.” It said something about dismemberment if we did.
That’s too bad. We do some wonderful work (patient’s comments; although I would not disagree with them, lol). The people I work with are tremendous. I would mention them by name, but, you know, I can’t.
I was thinking the other day if you had told me twenty-six years ago where I would be at this point of my life, I would have laughed at you. Amazing what a ‘little’ sobriety will do for a person.
Vacation time for my wife and I be here shortly; the last week in August. Usually we head Down East to Maine. This year we will go farther Down East to my wife’s family homestead in Nova Scotia. It has been way too long. A couple of good books, taking walks on country roads, having “Lobster Nova Scotia” (lobster stuffed with lobster), basically ‘kicking back.’ The environment is one that mentally ‘slams’ on the brakes for you.
I have been getting my course materials ready for the fall. I will be teaching four courses so like a good boy scout, ‘I will be prepared.’
I love teaching. Those of us that teach should be life-long students. Nothing worse than a tenured teacher that has been running with the same syllabus for twenty-years (ah, information changes or gets updated).
There are several projects I have been working on and this fall should see several of them come to fruition. Several career moves will be coming up in September also.
I am back into hard-core workouts again; hour and a-half on the trend-mill on an incline (pulsing 140-150) then crunches, then lifting (every other day). I also do 100 push-ups everyday (first set 40, then sets of 10 until I reach 100).
Well, that’s it for now. Later tonight I will be writing a story about an inpatient patient I had once that went a rampage until I injected a little levity into the situation.
As my oldest son would say,
Peace, Out
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