my best life 06.028.17.238A
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“Mr. Thompson, you need to take these. It will help you<br />
relax.” she replied. I was quickly realizing that I had no<br />
rights. It would be useless to resist or refuse. I knew that<br />
if I did, it would sound like any other patient refusing to<br />
cooperate and I could make things worse for <strong>my</strong>self.<br />
I found out later that the pills were designed to counteract<br />
any ill effects from any recent alcohol or drug<br />
consumption. A large portion of the patients who are<br />
admitted to the psych ward are under the influence of<br />
some reality altering substance. It was standard<br />
procedure.<br />
She began to enter <strong>my</strong> medical history into the computer.<br />
The questions were routine and <strong>my</strong> answers were brief.<br />
Finally, she left the room and returned with a hospital<br />
issue of four hand towels, a pair of yellow pajamas, rubber<br />
flip-flops and a robe… with no belt.<br />
The nurse then escorted me to <strong>my</strong> room accompanied by<br />
an orderly. As we walked down the hallway I had <strong>my</strong> first<br />
opportunity to observe other patients.<br />
In one of the hallways, a man resembling a thin Italian<br />
was pacing up and down. Facing the wall, his hands flat<br />
against it, he was rubbing and searching for an opening in<br />
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