My Worst Nightmare

The woman was frustrated. Her daughter died at 16 months. This was seven years ago. In all that time, she didn't step into the hospital because she was afraid. She would have panic attacks.

She tried every therapy and a variety of therapists over 7 Years, but nothing helped with her fear. She was in so much pain. She didn't always eat. She would have night terrors and panic attacks, which left her helpless.

She was ready to be with her daughter. Everyone always says she's in a better place, but she should be with her mama.

She emailed the Minister of Health and asked for the same consideration for mental health as cancer patients for Assisted Suicide: is their pain less real? Don't mental health patients deserve the same evaluation process?

But it was too late. She was just so tired. Surrounded by her dogs, she took the pills. But she was found out. The cops were called. She was brutally removed from her comfortable home and told she was arrested through the Mental Health Act.

She remembers begging, "Please do not take me to the hospital." They dragged her away with marks on her wrists.

She doesn't remember much after that except waking up in the hospital. She started to panic. No one asked how to calm her down. The techniques she's learned to help her remain calm in fearful situations. No one asked about her personal health directive, which included a request to never be intubated. No one treated her as a human being with rights. Instead, five nurses and her mother held her down and left her tied to the bed, terrified and screaming. For three days, she was trapped and panicked. Her legs, arms, thighs and feet had been tied.

She got her period in the bed, and instead of changing the sheets, they slipped a plastic mattress under her tied body. She asked to go pee and received a bedpan. When she stated she could walk, she was told no one would be able to help; she used the bedpan. Her bed was soaked with urine. Again, no one thought to change her sheets.

The nurses were cruel, taunting that it would be a lifetime before she got to leave.

They forced medication that wasn't hers down her throat. They would get mad if she asked what it was. They would stick needles in her body while she begged them no. No one cared to listen when she said that she was on blood pressure medication. But we're perplexed as to why her blood pressure was not normal.

She tried to explain she takes the blood pressure medications for nightmares and that she must take it at night, as it causes her blood pressure to go low. Her blood pressure was high in the hospital because she was scared, terrified and missing her critical medication.

She was then told she would be put on a new blood pressure medication for high blood pressure, which she refused to take. The nurses grabbed and held her down. There was no winning and no escape. When you are not a human being, you listen, or you will be punished.

Despite the trauma she feels, the fear that they wouldn't let her leave. The taunting of the nurse that she was never getting out. She managed to convince a doctor that she would not hurt herself. That the hospital was a much worse space for her mental health than her safe home. But her husband argued. He argued agaisnt her. She sat helpless, furious and most of all, scared that he would leave her there. That he would leave her to the abuse of the nurses. That he would take her ability to make decisions for himself. His arguments, although infuriating, didn't win out, and she was finally released. She was not fed a single piece of food and begged for water for four days.

Is this humanity? Is this what the Canadian mental health system is like? Hurting and terrifying the people who need kindness and compassion the most.

She's still scared. She is scared to take her medications. She was scared to talk about how she was treated because she was told her experiences were a lie. She's scared to trust anyone, especially police, nurses, and paramedics. She's terrified of hospitals and will never be able to step consciously into the doors of any hospital again.

The small-town nature of the hospital meant everyone knew what she had done. A nurse cursed at her, “Your husband is amazing, and you have two beautiful children; what is wrong with you?” Now, the whole community knows. Her right to privacy is also taken from her.

Seven years ago, she stopped going to grocery stores or familiar places. She stopped because of the look people gave her; they all knew she lost her daughter. They all watched her mental breakdowns. They talked. For the girl, it feels as if time has not passed: Not a moment from that day when she held her blue baby and sang, “Please don't take my sunshine away.”