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I don't know what brought this memory up, but it has been fluttering around me all evening. Blogging usually makes them go on their way........
About 4 years ago, while I was employed in the admissions department of the local State Psychiatric Institution, I ran into a bit of a puzzler. It was a busy-ish night, my bastard supervisor was taking time off (the lazy putz), I was working alone (other than the grounds nurse/house supervisor), and I was faced with a delicate situation. The local mental health authority (the folks who exist to prescreen those who may be in need of hospitalization) sent me a gentle, frightened woman--mid 40's, looked like a PTA mom, quite dignified and charming. Her mental health had taken a bit of a downswing--she was convinced that men were trying to break into her house and steal her possessions. Several visits from the police had done nothing to appease her terror, and she had purchased a handgun. This made the authorities quite uncomfortable, so they sent her my way.
When a person is admitted to the place I was employed, many items are not allowed on the treatment units ("wards" in old parlance). She had most of her material possessions with her. And I had to be the one to A: tell her that she couldn't take them with her, and B: bag/tag them for the safe. As you can well imagine, she freaked when I told her that her house keys--a point of great fear and protectiveness--would have to be locked up. So, what did I do? I got her directly involved with the project, allowing her to keep an eye on me and her things all the way through. She assisted in listing the items, then together we put them in the bags, placed the information on them together, then I had her actually drop them in the safe. When it came time for her to leave for the unit, she shook my hand and thanked me. I'm glad it all worked out--she was sweet, and I would have felt like an utter brute had she become violent, making physical intervention a neccessity. So now, I send my thanks to this person, and wish her well.
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2 comments:
You were very wise and sensitive, as usual. That wouldn't have worked on me though, because I would have remembered that scene in Schindler's List where people are asked to clearly label their bags and told these will follow them later, to lull them into a false sense of security -- and little do they know all their possessions are apprehended the minute the train leaves.
I wish they had been as kind to me.
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