Part 2 - PASU

I had never been admitted to a psych ward at any hospital. But there I was, involuntarily admitted. Let me just say one thing; if you thought it was anything like you’ve seen in the movies, you’re pretty much right. I was in the PASU ward for 9 days, which stands for Psychiatric Assessment and Stabilization Unit. We had a very interesting crew of about 10 or so patients there, some of which I’ll never forget. There was “Slayer” (on account of his Slayer t-shirt) He was a paranoid schizophrenic, who seemed to believe that the government owned segments of your brain and I might not actually be the real me. My personal favourite was that “non-whites were infiltrating our society and stealing our skin. So watch out, because I might actually be black.” We talk a little bit longer and he tells me that he is the Arc Angel Michael and that he has the power to save the world, as long as he keeps his magical bag of tobacco with him. He asks me if I want to go fight evil spirits with him someday... I figure sure, why not?

It can be pretty difficult to find a way to fill up 14-16 hours a day on the psych ward. Most of the other patients stay pretty doped up all day, and don’t seem to have a problem just sitting in the lounge and staring at the tv all day. They did have an exercise bike though, which gave me about 30 minutes of leisure. I asked my nurse, Nicole to get me something to read to kill more time. She comes back with “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.” I thought to myself, really?! - Oh well, at least I could appreciate her sense of humor. The nurses, I can tell, were having a difficult time treating me like the rest of the patients. I got the feeling that they knew I was a normal guy, and that I just hit a bit of a rough patch. But they had to stick with protocol in treating me like a regular patient. It’s funny, I never felt crazy till I was locked up with a bunch of “crazies.” I guess I am the most “sane” person here though. But that’s like winning a participant medal at the Special Olympics.

I really began to get the sense that living in a place like that could very well drive a sane person insane. It’s a very weird thing having so many basics rights stripped away. But then again, it could have been worse. I could have been dead. I spent most of my time in my room, either reading or writing or listening to music. Sometimes the phone would ring, it was usually for me. After about 5 days without any fresh air, I began to get anxious. Thankfully my parents had arrived from Ontario and were able to take me out for a couple of hours at a time. They brought me in a bunch of chocolates, I didn’t eat any of course, but the other patients loved them. I was able to use the chocolate to control the TV and watch all the sports I wanted to watch, without any complaints. I quickly became not only the sanest guy, but the coolest. (Again though, participant medal)

On my seventh day on the ward, I was allowed to leave for the whole afternoon, with my parents. And thankfully, it was a beautiful day. First on the agenda was Starbuck’s, then a walk along the beach and finally a barber shop, so I could get my scraggly Grizzly Adams beard shaved off. I hadn’t shaved in well over a week, because we weren’t allowed razors on the ward. When I got back to the hospital none of the other patients recognized me. One girl, we’ll call her Aretha, because she was big, black and loud, came up to me and introduce herself, forgetting that we had already met. She asked me if I was her doctor, to which I replied “No, but I play one on TV.” (Note to self, mental patience don’t get sarcasm) She then wanted to welcome me to the ward, I don’t bother trying to explain that I’d been there for a week. On the way back to my room, I got stopped by Glasses, I call him glasses cause he always wears sun glasses. He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and begins to explain to me a formula he’s figured out to prove that the earth will shortly be covered by 13,000 feet of water. - Then asks me for spare change.

To be continued...