A 50-year-old woman filed a federal lawsuit against Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center yesterday, saying she was forcibly undressed by five male security guards there last year after she refused a nurse's order to take off her clothes. The incident, which hospital officials have defended as necessary to make sure the woman was not hiding drugs or weapons, triggered flashbacks to childhood sexual abuse, according to the woman, Cassandra Sampson. She alleged in the suit that her civil rights were violated under the Americans with Disabilities Act, because hospital officials made no effort to protect her from psychological damage. Sampson said she went to the hospital for treatment of a severe migraine headache, but was moved to a psychiatric unit when she admitted struggling with self-destructive impulses. She said she pleaded to be allowed to keep at least her pants on before the strip search, but the nurse refused. ``Go ahead and rape me; everybody else has," Sampson said she cried out as the guards unbuckled her pants and removed them. ``They left me there with my underwear showing and my johnny up to my chest . . . I was crying, and [the nurse] said, `That's what you get for not listening to me.' " In a letter to Sampson, hospital officials said they were sorry she had such a terrible experience, but stood by their strict policy of searching psychiatric patients for their own benefit. ... A spokeswoman at UMass Memorial Medical Center in Worcester said the hospital never asks psychiatric patients to undress on arrival. If they suspect the patient may be dangerous, security guards perform a clothed pat-down search. Dr. Maggie Bennington-Davis led a successful effort to stop strip searches of psychiatric patients at Salem Hospital in Oregon in 2003. ``We can't be hauling people in here and be doing more harm to them," she said. ``It's very clear that a strip search retraumatizes them." ... Sampson hadn't intended to go to Beth Israel's emergency room on March 25, 2005, according to the lawsuit. But it was a weekend, and her primary care physician said the ER would be the best place to get help for severe migraine headaches that had persisted for three days. However, as soon as Sampson told a nurse that she took psychiatric medications and that she had been battling impulses to hurt herself that week, the nurse said she would need a psychiatric evaluation. Nurse Heather A. Richter then told Sampson that she would need to completely undress, according to the lawsuit. full article

This is absolutely disgusting. How in the world could Beth Israel's staff think it was in any way appropriate to have 5 male security guards rip off a woman's clothing? This story not only illustrates the dangers of being admitted into psych hospital for victims of sexual assault or abuse, it also illustrates the dangers of telling the wrong person about your feelings and thoughts. Note that Sampson only had thoughts of self harm, not suicide. Her life was NOT at risk. Psych wards are at most about safety nowadays. She did not need the babysitting of a hospital and she definitely did not need to be further traumatized. It was only a panicky nurse that caused her to end up there, this did not need to happen at all.

I've been having falling/dizzy spells/seizure/whatever the fuck it is issues again. I've had felt a bit more wobbly over the last week, but it's really spiked the last couple days. According to merryperseis, my eyes dilated at the beginning of the episode on the bus coming home from the North End on Friday. This does not surprise me, as one of the major symptoms of the episodes is muscle weakness and poor coordination which often makes eye focus difficult, so eye dilation would make sense. However, as this is only time eye dilation has been noted in conjunction with one of these episodes, and I would prefer it to be noted again to designate it as a symptom instead of as a coincidence.

Yesterday was much worse than Friday. My morning walk an with taiaselene was without incident. I was fine until the afternoon, which went horribly. An incident that while waxing and waning lasted for well over an hour. There was in addition another significant episode in the evening, though shorter and less severe than the afternoon one.

Of course, there is no way of really knowing where this is going and when the cycle will wane again. I am using a cane/staff again when I go out and will until this bares itself out. I will not let these episodes keep me from going for my walks and other outdoor activities. I refuse to let this control my life. Sure, that increases the chance that I might be sent to the emergency room by the unduly worried — but that just means I'll have an opportunity for a cathartic release of anger at whatever asshole doctor I get. Works for me.

Money can't buy happiness. This is true. However, it can eliminate a lot of the causes of stress and sadness. Yes, the rich suffer too, money affords more opportunities to alleviate that suffering. Money can rid one of having to worry about unstable housing or the affordability of food and medicine. A trip to the emergency room doesn't decimate the finances of the well-off, and if one has wealth one has the luxury of being able to prepare an emergency fund for any unforeseen blip in their cash flow.

Pervasive in this culture a perception is that wealth = good; and motivated, hard-working people will end up rewarded. The reality is that wealth has a lot more to do with luck than it does anything else. Yes, there is work involved, but the idea that the $400 million CEO works harder than the day labourer is ridiculous. If the labourer ends up in a nasty car wreck and falls into utter financial ruin, it is perceived as their fault and that they deserve their fate. The CEO who screws up often still makes off with millions in severance.

The simple act of making money may not be evil in and of itself, but neither is it a virtue. There is no inherent dignity in wealth. The past clings too hard to the future, and we still live with the age-old stench of poverty = moral inferiority. The rich have their money because they are the best stewards of it. The poor wouldn't know what to do with it and would simply squander it. When the rich get richer, everyone will benefit as those on top unzip their flies and trickle down on the unworthy beneath them. Bullshit.

I had a terrible time getting off antipsychotics, the withdrawals were so nasty it would have been helpful to be in a rehab clinic for them except rehab clinics don't take patients addicted to antipsychotics.

Sedatives like Ativan or Klonopin can very tempting when experiencing antipsychotic withdrawals, and patients prescribed antipsychotics are often prescribed sedatives as well. However, I found that more often than not sedatives led to a state where I was so tired I was barely able to move but still could not sleep because of the withdrawals. This state was much worse than going through the withdrawals without the sedatives.

I've seen far too many people fall into this sedative trap while withdrawing from antipsychotics and what often ends up happening is they take more and more sedatives until they actually do fall asleep. But by that time they've taken a lot more sedatives than they should have and someone ends up finding them and calling an ambulance. In the emergency room labeled an "attempted suicide", given charcoal, and sent off to a psych hospital where they are readministered antipsychotics. While they attempt to explain to the staff that suicide was not the motivation in taking the sedatives, their explanations are inevitably dismissed. Sometimes they are actually manipulated into thinking they must have meant to kill themselves even though they don't remember wanting to.

My particular battle was with Geodon, but this scenario can play out with users of virtually any antipsychotic drugs including Abilify, Risperdal, Zyprexa, and Seroquel. Breaking antipsychotic addiction is not easy, but being armed with knowledge can help tremendously.

I will probably be okay.

( However... (TMI) )

Thursday night I went for a walk around 11:30. I made it to Arlington Center and ended up feeling very uncoordinated. I sat on the concrete side of a planter. I became very creeped out. There were a few small groups milling about and I was becoming concerned. I couldn't really defend myself or attempt to escape if someone decided to attack me. I really just wanted to get home. I didn't like the situation, and my instinct were telling me I needed to get to safety as soon as possible. I got up before I was really ready to and attempted to cross the street and ended up on the median for about 10 minutes. I really didn't like being there, because you become much more visible when you are on the ground and being on the ground on the median enhances that more. I did manage to get off the median eventually and crossed the rest of the street. I saw a bus coming when I got to the sidewalk but was unable to make it the rest of the way to the bus stop. After another 10 or 15 minutes, an officer approached me, then another. They asked me if I'd been drinking or doing drugs. I hadn't. The fire department arrived quickly after the officer called in a "rescue". The fire department paramedic said it looked like I was having a seizure. At least someone's looking. The non-fire department ambulance that was to take me away took a long time in arriving. By the time it did, I was feeling coordinated enough to walk well. However, the police did not want me walking home, and since they could not give me a ride, insisted that I go with the ambulance. For some reason, after I was loaded into the ambulance, another arrived and they decided it would be better for me to go in that one. In the process of moving from on to the other, purpleglitter found me. Even though the police were gone, the ambulance paramedics decided it was acceptable for her to take me home as the main concern was me walking. I really didn't want to have to deal with the emergency room staff being upset at my audacity to come in again, so I was quite happy for the ride. I may try to confine my walks to safer hours for the time being.

was at stop & shop to buy sugar
i felt really out of it
the woman at the register noticed
i almost collapsed
became non-responsive
they got me a seat
i sat down and twitched
this worried them
they kept asking me if i was pregnant
do i look pregnant?
this is the second time this week someone thought i might be pregnant
purpleglitter came in from waiting in the car
but they had already called an ambulance
i ended up at cambridge hospital
in the emergency room
they kept me there for an hour or so
did an ekg
gave me breakfast
and let me go
purpleglitter picked me up
this is getting ridiculous
am i going to end up at the hospital every time i leave the house?
i can't live like this
i'm not sure what to do

i fell down again
after a talk with george
stressing paying the rent on time
i'm afraid he's going to evict us if things don't shape up
and i don't know how things are going to shape up
i just froze in front of walgreens
luckily mutehalo was there to shoo people away
so i didn't get taken to the hospital
i'm afraid if this keeps up i won't be able to leave the house alone
i refuse to live like that
trapped
everything is collapsing
i'm going to get drunk tonight
i spent the rest of the money i have until the 2nd on some alcohol
stupid, i know
but right now i'm in a space that i don't care
i'm accused of being self-destructive
might as well prove them right
fuck it all

merryperseis and I were heading to an anime showing at MIT, when my brain froze up in Porter Square. This would have been a minor inconvenience if a police officer didn't see me twitching on the ground. He called in an ambulance and off to the emergency room I was swept. They kept me there for several hours asking me questions about how often I have "seizures". I told them I have them every day, but I didn't know if I'd call them "seizures". My mind locks up. I dissociate. I freeze. I twitch. It happens. After my bloodwork came back all good, they let me go. I feel bad about spoiling merrryperseis's birthday night out, but she appears not to be perturbed. That makes me feel better.

Around 9:30pm curled up on Pleasant St. in the fetal position. I wasn't really there. Twitchy. Apparently somebody called the police. They called an ambulance. I kept telling them I just wanted to go home and that I was ok. They brought me in to Cambridge Hospital. They checked me out in the regular emergency room then sent me to the psych emergency room where I still am. I'm very twitchy. Don't feel very good. They haven't given me my Geodon or any of my other meds. They did give me Seroquel though. Which has just made me worse off. I just want to go home. But they are sending me back up to Cahill 4. I feel ill and hot and cold and disoriented. I just want to go home and curl up. They'll be sending me up to Cahill 4 in a couple hours.

Cahill 4
617-876-4523
Visiting Hours are the same:
4:30pm - 8:30pm Monday - Friday
11:30am - 8:30pm Sat & Sun

Posted by purpleglitter

Last Thursday, I went to my 3:00pm evaluation at the Crisis Center at the Lexington Center for Mental Health. We were evaluated by a person name Susan for about half an hour and she determined we were in need of hospitalization. I was okay with that, but made it clear that we did not want to go back to Holy Family. I told them "Anywhere but Holy Family.".

After I had been waiting in the waiting room for quite some time (I don't know exactly how long, time was a blur), Susan came back and told us that she had section 12ed (involuntary committed) us to Holy Family. I told her I wasn't going to go. I asked her to find someplace else. I begged her to find someplace else. She replied that it was too late, I was already section 12ed to Holy Family.

I told her that I wasn't going to back to Holy Family. I started for the door. Susan told me that if I left, she'd have to call the police. I left anyway.

Knowing the police would be coming for me, and that they'd eventually find me, I made my way quickly to the Brooks Pharmacy in a nearby stripmall. At Brooks, I bought 2 bottles of Nyquil, a bottle of sleeping pills, and some candy.

Leaving Brooks, I saw a police car entering the parking lot. I quickly ducked into a clothing store. Pretending to browse behind the racks, I kept an eye on the window. The police car drove slowly by, but didn't see me.

A minute or two later, I peeked out of the store. The police car was still in the lot look in the windows. I quickly and calmly walked in the direction opposite the way the police were heading. I walked into McDonalds and out the other side.

I scurried off into the woods and took the sleeping pills, washing them down with one of the bottles of Nyquil. I also ate a few of the candies.

After the drugs had started taking effect, I decided I wanted to say goodbye to some of those I love. I was in a quite delirious state at the point, and didn't fully realize the risk of capture involved in such an endeavor. I left the woods and walked back to the strip mall. I brought my bag of goodies with me, because I didn't want to litter. I noticed another police car enter the lot, and I quickly ducked back into the McDonalds and sat down at one of the tables.

The police officers spotted me this time. I was pretty unmistakable in my satin and velvet pajamas, silk bathrobe, wild pigtails, and cats eye glasses. I'm sure the officers didn't have much of a problem identifying me at all.

As the police entered, I quickly finished what little was left the bottle of Nyquil, and downed a few stray sleeping pills that had fallen into the bag. Not the wisest move at that point, I admit, but I wasn't thinking very clearly.

The police asked me if I was Karen Luketin. To which I replied truthfully, "No". Our name is Beverly Luketin. I showed them our ID to prove it, holding my thumb over the word "Luketin". I said smugly, "See, my name is Beverly". Of course, the police took the ID, looked at it, and noted that my last name was Luketin. They knew I was who they were looking for.

The preceded to ask me about the pills, about which I was very cryptic. Knowing what I had taken, they called in an ambulance. They told me that they had me on a section 12, and there was nothing I could do.

When the ambulance arrived, the police told the paramedics that they were to wait, that the crisis center was sending it's own ambulance. However, when I collapsed simi-conscious onto the ground, the paramedics said they weren't waiting any longer, and rushed me to the emergency room at Waltham Deaconess Hospital.

The emergency room was a blur. I was plugged up to so many things, I felt like a borg. They fed me much charcoal. Apparently our heart rate went up to 175 while we were unconscious. Throughout the night I drifted in and out of consciousness. I made several delirious phone calls trying to tell people where I was. I kept talking to people, then turning my head to realize no one was there. I was hold and looking at things, only to find my hands were firmly and motionlessly folded on my stomach.

purpleglitter and zarthon tried to visit me around 3am, but the emergency room staff wouldn't let them see me. They were told that they weren't my "real" family, and that they would have to go. I didn't even find out that they had tried to visit until I talked to purpleglitter over the phone the following afternoon.

At some point after that, the emergency room staff decided we were in the clear physically. I was told that we were still going to Holy Family. I was very upset, and started ripping out the monitors and the IV. I told them there was no way I was still going after all that. Four orderlies held me down and I was given an quick injection. I awoke Friday afternoon at Holy Family.

I checked myself into the Emergency Room because we're unsafe. Now I wish I hadn't. They've already pink-papered me. I'm staying at Anna Jaques Hospital in Newburyport. Contact numbers and visiting hours will be posted tomorrow. Sorry for being a constant source of upheaval and hassle. - Beverly

posted for Berv, by purpleglitter

Went on a walk late last night. Left the house at 3:00am. I was dressed in my long velvet black dress, with flowing lace sleeves. A hit of red hid under more lace in the front. I packed my purse with various pills and a bottle containing a mixture of Nyquil and Robitussin in it.

Various places to actually take the pills came in mind. I decided upon the hill by the swings purpleglitter and I used to go to.

Immediately after crossing Mill Brook I was accosted by the foot stomping of a skunk. I ran the other way, into a driveway. I remained in the driveway for about 5 minutes, until I was sure the skunk was gone.

While waiting, I decided I should leave purpleglitter a message before I take the pills. I walked up to the Arlington Heights Bus Terminal to use the phone there. Instead of actually calling I kept looking at the pill bottle.

Why I actually didn't take the pills as intended I do not know. There were a lot of possible factors.

Fear, of course.

I'm don't really want to die. It's more that I don't want to live. I don't like life, things aren't going to improve, and death seems like a good option.

No individual thing I had was particularly lethal, not even the mix of Robitussin and Nyquil as it was mostly Robitussin. I was hoping that taking a great many things together would do the trick. However, I was afraid that if I took everything it would just make me extremely fucked up. The police would find me the next morning and take me into the hospital.

I went home when the lightning started up again. Unfortunately, I didn't bring a key with me. merryperseis had locked me out. I didn't want a key, because, I thought not having one would help me not chicken out.

merryperseis's light was still on, but I didn't want to knock and wake up the other roommates. So, I threw some of the pills I'd brought at her window. Apparently, they didn't make enough noise, as she didn't hear them. I ended up getting in through a window around 4:30am.

merryperseis and I had some good talks for sometime in the kitchen. She's a really wonderful person, and I'm glad she's living with us.

However, I'm still not sure that suicide isn't a good option for me. I'm not sure that it is, either. I'm scared and confused and just don't know.

I do have to learn the lessons of my last two "attempts". I need to give up the notion of a "romantic" suicide, and just do it. I am not brave enough. It's not that I don't want to die, it's just that I lack courage. Probably should just do it completely drunk. Alcohol can make up for the bravery I lack. I wanted to stare death down sober, but apparently that is not in the cards. I can't do it. Pathetic, yes. But who cares?

Another issue I need to rectify is getting some quality lethal pills in my possession. The stupid shit I have is not going to cut it. There are plenty of appropriate things over the counter. I don't want to accidentally live, end up in the emergency room and then the psych ward.

Shortly after purpleglitter called 911 a week ago Thursday, the house was swarmed by paramedics and firefighters. They brought me to Mount Auburn Hospital. At first, all they did at the hospital was observe me. When my resting heart rate went up to 130, they fed me a bunch of charcoal. I kept slipping in and out of consciousness as my heart rate climbed to 170 and set off the alarms. I remember brief glimpses of people visiting me during the night, though I can't place any of that in chronological order. The whole experience is too much of a blur.

Around 4:00am in the morning I met with the psychiatrist on call at Mount Auburn. He talked to me and said that he would be admitting me to a psychiatric unit.

At about 6:00am, he came back and told me that he was admitting me into a male room (with male roommates). I told him that I wasn't going to go, but he said I had no choice. I informed him that if he insisted I be in a male room, that was okay, I'd just go topless. I threatened "How comfortable do you think the staff will be with that? How about the other patients?". He relented and found me a private room at Pembroke Hospital.

7:00am, zarthon arrived just in time to hand me some clothes and toiletries before they put me in the ambulance bound for Pembroke Hospital. I remember watching the Zakim Bridge drift into the distance through ambulance windows as they took me away from Boston.

I am alive. I ended up spending the night at Mt. Auborn Hospital & in the morning I was transferred to Pembroke Hospital where I'll be staying at least until Monday. Sorry for any hassle & stress I may have caused anyone. I feel really badly about that. Thanks for all your comments even though I haven't read them yet. I'll write details when I am released.

[posted by Lake for Berv
visiting hrs: weekdays 2-3/6-7, weekends: 2-4/6-8]