On March 23, 2010 I went to the Brampton Hospital Emergency and asked to see the Psychiatrist. This visit turned out to be a horrifying nightmare. I was having severe headache, flashing lights and flashing images. I was on Cipralex for depression. I suspected the medication was causing this problem, but felt I needed to consult a Psychiatrist. My own Psychiatrist, who works there was fully booked and was unable to see me and I was told that there were no appointments available until the end of April, and that if the symptoms continue or got worse that I should go to emerg. I left a message for my Psychiatrist to call me but he didn’t, he later claimed that he never received the message, yet his secretary says other wise. Because I wasn’t able to speak to him or see him for a consult I decided to go to emerg
While in emerg I was placed on Form 1, no explanation was given to me regarding this decision. After being admitted in mental health intensive care I learnt that I was placed on a Form 1 because I was suicidal, at no time at all did I ever tell the nurse or doctor that I was suicidal, it had not crossed my mind. After keeping me for 3 days against my own will in their Intensive Care Unit with tight security, they tried to get as much drug as possible into my system, they then released me without any follow up. Since they claimed that I am suicidal, what is to stop me now from committing suicide? There is something seriously wrong with the system at Brampton Hospital. My ordeal is as follows:
At emerg I requested to see the Psychiatrist on duty. A nurse came and escorted me to the MHESU department. The nurse asked me some questions in between her other errands as she was in and out of the room frequently, then a doctor came and spent about 30 sec then left. He was rude and abrupt, he hurriedly left the room without indicating what his plan of action was. I explained to both of them what my symptoms were, severe pain at the top of my head, accompanied by flashing light and images. On my way to the washroom and noticed a guard at my door. I didn’t know why she was there. I was in too much pain to let that bother me. They sent me to do a CT Scan, and the guard followed me. When I asked why was the guard following me I was told I was on Form 1…I had no idea what this meant, So I asked the guard about this, she said the reason for the Form 1 is because I was under the care of a Psychiatrist, I thought that this was odd, because up to that time I had seen the Psychiatrist on duty. Truth is there is more to the Form 1 than what the guard told me.
When I returned from doing the scan, I noticed that my clothes and hand bag were not in the room where I had left them. The nurse told me to go into another room which she said would be warmer and had a bed. The room was not warmer and I was cold wearing those flimsy hospital clothes. Another nurse came and took some blood for testing. I decide to get my own clothes which would keep me warm, (I had arrived in a business suit, because I was coming from a meeting) and to get my phone to call my husband so he would know where I was, I also looked at the time and realized that my son needed to be picked up from school at 5pm it was already after 4pm and needed to ask my husband to make arrangement for that as well. So I went to the nurse’s office and knocked on the door, I requested my clothes and cell phone, she refused to give it to me and told me that I have to go back into the room and that she will come to the room and speak to me, and that she cannot speak to me unless I am in the room. This made no sense. I felt infuriated. She kept refusing to give me my clothes and phone, and insisted that I go to the room. I had no clue what was going on, but I sense something was very wrong. I looked at the door of the room and noticed a lock and then I notice large straps on the side of the bed. The security guard came toward me and told the nurse to go back into her office and close her door. I refused to into the room that the nurse was telling me to go into, and I started to raise my voice and demanded my clothes and my phone. The nurse cautioned me to lower my voice, saying there were other patients, I yelled even more, telling her that something is going on and I want everyone in the hospital to know that she was holding my possessions and refusing to give them to me without a proper explanation, that she had deceived and tricked me and taken my possessions without my consent. I was in fact hoping that someone would hear and step in to stop the madness, but no such luck.
The security guard quickly put on a pair of plastic gloves and pressed a button, a code was announced and an army quickly flooded the tiny hallway of the MHESU department. Everyone started to put on gloves. In a flash they grabbed me and I was thrown on the bed, someone held my face down in a pillow, in my mind I started to scream, “Oh God I can’t breathe, please help me, I’m going to die, I can’t breathe” I struggled against the pressure of the weight on my head, trying to move my head to the side so I could breathe, but it was useless. I started kicking my legs so they couldn’t get to strap them down, but that was useless too, there were too many of them. I could feel many hands on my body as they tried to strap me down. Finally the pressure was released from the top of my head and I was able to turn my head to the side and gasp as I took a few beep breathes.
I started screaming at them, “I wanted my cell phone to call my husband so he would know where I am, why are you strapping me down? You’re violating my rights. She took my belongs and wouldn’t give them back to me, I wanted my phone to call my husband, my son needs to be picked up at school”! To this one of the hospital staff, a tall Indian looking man said “You should have thought of that before!”
It was obvious from his comment that he didn’t care and he was ignorant of the facts. There was a hand near my mouth and I grabbed it with my teeth, and bit hard into it. I heard him say “she’s biting me!” Some one answered, “What? She’s got your hand?” Someone grabbed my hair and yanked my head hard pulling me off his hand. Then he pinned my head twisting it to the side so that half of my face was pressed down into the pillow. I could feel pain searing along the right side of my neck, jaw line and shoulder. I kept saying “you’re hurting my neck, let go, you’re hurting my neck, I have neck injury from a car accident, you’re hurting my neck” but the person kept applying pressure, and held my head in the same position. The same tall Indian man in hospital uniform spoke up harsh and loud, scolding me he said “that’s what you get for biting, you shouldn’t have bitten that’s why he’s holding your head”. After all, what right do I have to retaliate; I should just subject myself to their treating me like a captured animal, right? After they were finished strapping me down, he was still holding my head, I could tell he was doing it out of spite as there was no need to continue holding my head. It was clear that they had the upper hand to do as they pleased and that if I tried to defend my self it would only be worse. But I wasn’t about to give up.
A few minutes later they flipped me over like a pancake and I was flat on my back. The hands were working steady and fast as they pulled the straps tight around my ribcage, my legs and my arms. Then I felt someone rubbing my thighs with something wet and I asked “who is that? what are you doing?” she said her name but did not tell me what she was doing, then I felt a sharp prick and I knew I was getting an injection, then another sharp prick. I asked “what are you injecting me with?” no response. Then I said “You do not have the right to give me an injection, what are you injecting me with?” Then they all walked out of the room. The tall Indian man was the last to leave, he took this opportunity to hurl an insulting remark at me, using foul language, he topped it off with a detestable look, to which I responded to by spitting at him and calling him an ass hole.
I looked at the clock, time was running out, it was 4:40pm. My son had to be picked up at 5pm I began shouting again, as loud as I could, demanding my phone. I knew I had to call my husband before the medication kicked in. I knew there was nothing else left for them to do to me that they hadn’t already done. I had nothing to lose. A woman came into the room telling me to be quite, I asked her who she was and she identified herself as the Manger of the MHESU department and nonchalantly told me “don’t worry we will find your son, social services will get him from school” I asked her how was she going to do that when she didn’t know his name or the school that he attends. In that same nonchalant voice she said “oh they’ll find him, social services will pick him up from school and keep him” I screamed louder and demanded my phone. I simply refused to shut up. I screamed that they had taken away my rights and were trying to take away my son as well. The same lady returned with my phone. She had gone into my bag without my permission, once again I felt violated, to make matters worse it wasn’t even the correct phone. I scolded her for violating my privacy by going into my bag. She returned the phone and brought the correct phone. I called my husband and told him what had happened. Then I called my family doctor and told him what had happened, he informed me that he could not help me because he doesn’t work at that hospital, ( he works in Etobicoke) that I should settle down, because they must have made a mistake and they will soon release me once they release their mistake.
Later I asked to use the washroom and they refused to remove the straps, even though at this time even my speech was slurred and my vision was blurry. I doubt that I could have even ran if I wanted to. I held my bladder and bowel for four hours. My husband came and also requested for them to release me seeing that I could not possibly harm anyone, but they refused. The Psychiatrist came in with his brilliant diagnosis that I am bipolar. He had not interviewed me, where did he get this? How can you come up with a diagnosis when you haven’t even spoken to the patient? I later on found out that he recommended that I be kept 2-3 weeks in the mental health ward!
Later that night I was transferred to the mental health intensive care unit with high security and kept there for 3 days. There was no way out! By the next day my Psychiatrist showed up and told me a different diagnosis….Psychosis! In 24 hours I had gone from being Bipolar to being Psychotic! By the second day I figured out a way to look like I’m taking the pills without arousing any suspicion, and getting rid of them afterwards. I was advised to stay quiet and they will let me out. My body ached all over. I was covered in black and blue bruises and one of the nurses spoke to a doctor and got muscle pain reliever for me. After I was released I stopped taking the Cipralex, wouldn’t you know it, the horrible headache that made me go to the emergency was gone, and so were the flashing lights and images! It was the medication that was causing the problem, just like I had suspected! The Professionals that I went to for help abused me instead of helping me. They were incompetent and negligent. Now I suffer from nightmares as the incident keeps replaying it self in my head. I awake at nights feeling like I am suffocating and feeling hands all over me strapping me down, hearing there voices talking. I have been traumatized by this incident.