Hospital sweet hospital

Said tongue in cheek, well...mostly. While being institutionalised for feeling suicidal and/or homicidal can hardly be regarded as fun, there can be moments of levity in a psych hospital. Like the guy I used to see out in the courtyard who took to clicking his heels sideways from time to time. One day he came out with his boots and put them on the table in front of me. Someone had thoughtfully tied up his laces tight in all sorts of knots. He slammed a fork next to them and grunted: "canya untie these for me? Some C*NT went and fucked them up". It took me a while, but my nimble fingers worked them into straight laces again. He gave me a couple of smokes for my efforts. Then there was the guy who hated being medicated. We had to line up to get our meds from a mobile trolley outside the nurses station each night. One time, after he had been given his meds, he waddled away, baring his flabby bottom, as if to say "Youse are all Arseholes". There was a girl who used to wear gaudy makeup; she got out energy by belting out The Power Ballad, circling around the courtyard screeching Celine Dion and Whitney Houston numbers. Her versions were infinitely more entertaining than the original, if a little hard on the ears. Some people liked to order in pizza, whether they had the cash or not; they'd try their luck with the delivery boy saying "we'll get you the money tomorrow". Others were more blunt, saying stuff like "if you give me the pizza, i promise not to chew off your nose". I woke up one morning only to have a huge aboriginal woman staring intently at me. "What do you want?" I cowered away; she hushed me "you sleep...you sleep". Apparently she hadn't slept for 48 hours and got relaxation watching others sleep. A couple of days later she stole all the womens' toiletries bags, picked what she wanted and put the items in the nicest bag she could find. That wasn't such a funny thing at the time, but I can laugh about it now. Finally, there was a funny guy who used to play hide and seek with the nurses during the nights, when they had to do hourly checks. He would wander out of his room, finding hiding spots. One night he bolted into my room giggling and shut himself in my wardrobe, hushing his finger to his lips. Soon after, a nurse opened the door, flashlight in hand and shone it in my face. "Is Mark in here?" she skwarked. I shook my head and she left. Mark bolted out of my wardrobe after a minute or so, giggling all the time. Of course bad stuff happened. Of course I often felt a whole lot of paranoia, fear and anger. It wasn't a holiday, not by a longshot. It really pisses me off when people say shit like: "ohhh, it must have been good going to hospital for a little rest", as if there are jacuzzis and masseurs and adonises fanning you with palm fronds. Phaw. But it's not all bad in hospital. It wasn't for me, anyway.

When a website becomes a drug company's Get Out of Jail card

I discovered a new health website on the weekend; mindbodylife.com.au. It gives a fairly comprehensive view for mental health patients as how to improve their living habits to being healthier. I also discovered that it is sponsored by pharmeceautical company Lily, which gave me food for thought. Why would a drug company give two hoots about caring about the physical health of mental health patients? Then I considered the possible legal aspects and/or cases of people on psych drugs which cause weight gain and any possible court cases which may have been lodged by people who may have developed life-threatening illness like heart disease and type 2 diabetes.

So is Lily covering their arse by creating a caring and sharing website for people like me with schizoaffective or some other illness? I get a fairly constant message from my doctor about needing to lose weight and do more exercise; even when I tell him I walk for 50mins 4 times a week he counters with: It should be an hour every day. Pretty tough love. I see a dietician and haven't had much success; I crave fatty carbs, which I've read can be caused by Zyprexa, which simultaneously then makes it difficult (the zyprexa) for my body to process the said carbs and burn them off. It's tough to lose weight on some drugs, really tough, as many people who take them could attest to.

I wonder how many legal cases or precedents have been set by anyone rich enough to take the drug companies on. You hear about other medications like Vioxx and how that was withdrawn. I just wonder whether its because most mentally ill people tend to be disenfranchised that they can be ordered to take meds which can endanger their physical health to the extent that they develop physical conditions which can be life-threatening. It sucks. I know, I know, the alternative in not taking medication can result in hospitalisation. I just look at my cousin; she's a fair bit older than me, she's 60 and has schizoaffective like me. She was on Lithium for donkey's years and now has to go on dialysis regularly for her kidneys which are shot. It brings it a bit closer to home for me, but she's pretty stoic and cops it on the chin.

I just hope the damned drug giants can refine the crap we currently ingest to the extent that side-effects are a thing of the past. To be honest though, I can't see it happening in my lifetime; I'm 40 and am grateful enough to have tried many different new types of medication in the hope of getting the 'right' balance. So far type 2 diabetes and heart disease haven't raised their head yet, but they are on the cards unless I can lose weight and give up smoking. I'm sure there are some people out there who have managed far better than I have done with far more challenging illnesses; I don't mean to whine. Sometimes medication is frustrating, that's all.