Jack Attack

Part of our visits take place in a common area open to the other 15+ patients in the unit, and the scenes are often disturbing. Brief nudity seems fairly common, and I’ve seen more adult pull-ups than I ever thought I’d see. Patients wander over and stand uncomfortably close or sit down with us, sometimes shouting or gesturing, sometimes wanting a hug. One guy instantly pounces on any vacant chair to stack it with the others, and he attempted to drag Chelsey’s chair to the stack while she was still in it. Two or three staff are usually stationed strategically around the room to untangle the worst of the chaos.

Five or six were in the room one day being so loony that I couldn’t help laughing. A guy was kneeling on the floor in a sea of crushed orange goldfish crackers, patting anybody within reach on the leg or butt; people were walking wide circles around him. The chair stacker was doing his thing while repeating the same nonsense words. One female wandered in without a top, and another was crying about a patient messing with her. Another guy rocked himself and shouted in the corner. The staff was trying to herd the stray cats but mostly seemed resigned to the uncontrolled craziness.

As we walked out I started giggling about how it had reminded me of the Jack-Attack scene at the end of The Incredibles. Jack is exhibiting all his bizarre talents like laser vision and self-combustion. The babysitter is just sitting there numb, defending herself with a mirror and fire extinguisher but letting Jack destroy the house.

That place would freak out healthy people. I can only imagine what it does to somebody already in crisis. Chelsey is certainly calmest when she’s alone with us, and she freaks out the most and the fastest when a patient intrudes on her space. This is just a race or a balance between the good influence of meds and monitoring and the bad influence of the stress and chaotic social dynamics. We want her out ASAP, but we definitely can’t handle her or help her without some improvement first.