![\"IMG_4790\"](\"https:\/\/disabledangel.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/IMG_4790.jpg\")
<\/a>Earth. I am thoroughly enjoying my trip led by a trusted Ecuadorian friend. We were a small group of 8 people joined at times by different Shamans and several local guides. On this Beautiful day, our group was participating in a San Pedro ceremony. There was a Sacred Plant which acts as a vehicle for heart opening along with our combined intentions. We had a Soundhealer playing music to enhance the Sacred space. I immensely enjoyed assisting the Shaman in the creation of a Sacred Mandala out of flowers picked from around the site. Dartura flowers (note one above, the largest in the photo) were among them \u2013 a powerful, sacred plant in its own right. This time its physical beauty more than its chemical properties were employed. It was in this setting, I was alone meditating in the woods 8 feet from the bank of the stream. The picture shows the mat and objects I chose to accompany me.\u00a0 I was very relaxed and had no expectations. The single message to come to me was that \u201cI did not need my medications\u201d (Lithium for Bipolar Disorder was the only medication I was taking). I sat with that. Hmmmm… Is this true? I am toying with the idea of a trial of discontinuance. I had planned to do this sometime before Oct. 2013 which would be one year on the drug. One would never really know if the medication is needed without stopping it and see how you feel. I was not set. \u2026.And then another of our group traipsed along nearby. She approached me, hugged me and whispered in my ear, \u201cyou don’t need your medication\u201d. OK, that seemed an amazing coincidence. I was decided. I would try without the med. I had 5 more days before I returned to Canada. The next decision was when. After pondering and reflecting and meditating on it, I decided: now<\/b>.<\/em> I would stop the medication immediately. It would still be in my system until I got to Canada. It would be fine. If I felt symptoms return, I would just restart it. No big deal.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Well, I arrived home. I was feeling fantastic. I committed to my writing in a new way. I was not going to judge it too much. “If it is not a book, totally fine. I truly enjoy the writing so here I go” (\u2026.again. I have said this before. But this time I meant it.) I felt so comfortable in my own skin. With the various healings and ceremonies that I participated in while in Peru, I felt that I was Healed. Within 2 weeks, I started to notice that I would have to go back on my medication. The change came fairly quickly. I was sleeping well and then, bam, all of a sudden I could not sleep one night. Not a wink. It was accompanied by a lot of creative ideas flooding my brain. I decided that I was a creative genius.<\/strong><\/em> Really, who isn’t? So funny how I could doubt myself one day and now this day I felt so sure that I was on the right track. (Yes, I was manic again).\u00a0 Who cares what others say about me? I was sure that I was heading in the right direction.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Was this mania? I was wondering. There was also some male attention that had me pretty excited. Was it more just that? Maybe both. “Is what Western Medicine calls ‘mania’ actually an expanded consciousness that is likely not sustained but can be accessed for creative and spiritual experiences?” This concept has always been at the back of my mind and remains there…I perceived great and significant spiritual <\/p>\n In the course of this, my parenting partner became aware of my new, elevated mood (state of consciousness?) \u2013 felt in Western Medicine to be a Manic Episode. I took my first Lithium capsule on my own counsel with the firm plan to restart the med daily. Well, that did not satisfy him. He wanted a Doctor’s assessment at the hospital. His intentions were good. He knew that I wanted to handle this as an outpatient. But after consulting with two of my close friends, it was decided that I would go to the hospital. I recall thinking that the book and\/or movie (of my life – running joke) could only be enhanced by experiences forthcoming. I had no idea how right I was on this one. I still entertained the idea that everyone would allow me to take oral meds and settle this down at home. Maybe next time if that ever comes to experience. Alas, it was deemed that I was suffering with a mental disorder<\/em>, was a danger to myself or others<\/em> (debatable, unless you think being hugged is dangerous) and would likely not have\u00a0 agreed to inpatient therapy on my own<\/em>. I was Committed under the Mental Health Act.\u00a0 The Act that locks up those whose Reality does not match the Reality of the Captors – known in the world of Integrative Psychiatry as Unshared Reality.\u00a0<\/strong> This was my second\u00a0 go around with this Committed<\/em> thing. My Mom is Retired from a long career as a Lawyer. During the prior admission, she informed me that I had less rights than a Prisoner under this Act: an uplifting thought.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I have always been committed but being Committed <\/strong>under the Alberta Mental Health Act<\/em> …I can pass on that. I wondered to myself what purpose this served.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I am reminded of a fond memory from my first admission. I laughed so hard seeing an excerpt from Austin Powers Goldmember on You Tube where Dr. Evil does a Jail Rap to Hard Knock Life<\/a>.<\/strong><\/p>\n There is even some banjo playing \u2013 that is always<\/b> good for me…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I was shown this while at the Relaxation Spa<\/strong><\/em> (as I often affectionately call the Psychiatric Ward) in November 2012 \u2013 my first time being committed. A group of us had gathered together in the evening before bed. I was sitting on a fellow patient’s knee. Whenever the nurses turned their back, on his knee I would jump.\u00a0 It is against the ward rules to hug or touch fellow patients. He was 6 foot 4 inches, 240 pounds and 23 years old. He and I befriended each other quite authentically during our shared experience. I met him in lockdown. Not many friends you can say that<\/b> about. He had the kindest Christ-like nature<\/strong><\/em>. He was looking out for the other patients so tenderly which was my natural reaction also. I adopted him as a cousin<\/em>. We enjoyed spending time together each with one earbud listening to various music. We might be walking down the hall or across a table at the cafeteria.\u00a0 He even attended my self-led stair workouts.\u00a0 Tricky with our earbud sharing. I am not sure what it is with me and younger men, maybe I am just young at heart? My new cousin was not at all worried. He was seemingly disappointed by my formula that I must not date men younger than \u201chalf my age plus 5\u201d. A good friend had shared this with me and I have taken it as Gospel Truth ever since. This new friend was 5 years too young. So it was my cousin<\/em> who entertained me with his iphone that evening and this Dr. Evil video. I will always fondly link it to the Relaxation Spa<\/strong><\/em>. Interestingly during the second hospitalization, hardly a connection at all with the other patients \u2013 just social courtesy. Maybe all the good ones are down in the lockdown unit<\/em><\/strong>. I digress.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Back to my story. It was a Tuesday night. I was led into a small room with a stretcher in the Emergency Department to wait for my hospital room to be available. Later, it was deemed that this room was needed by another patient and I was moved to a stretcher in the hallway of the <\/p>\n I actually enjoyed myself.\u00a0 That is the beauty of mania. I sat up most of the night and got slightly excited at each and every man in uniform that walked by.\u00a0 I even flirted with one of the female security guards. Maybe a fetish? (Oh dear…Felt like the female version of Benny Hill or something). I frequently said \u201cHi Officer\u201d. I might have thrown in a \u201cHow is your night going?\u201d My friendliness<\/em> was not received with any warmth. I asked several times, \u201cCan I hug you?\u201d No. \u201cHow about a high five\u201d. OK. So a lot of high fives. Last time I was in the Hospital for mania, it was a whole lotta love…which landed me in lockdown. Another story…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Wednesday morning arrives and I was taken to my room. Instant elation. I was in a single room to myself. There was a Beautiful stenciled quote on the wall, \u201cWhat a caterpillar calls death, the master calls Butterfly\u201d. My Psychiatrist informed me upon discharge that the stencil was a Guerilla Act<\/strong><\/em>. Love that! I was on a familiar Ward. Ahhhhhh… All was well. Within about 10 minutes, I felt an anger building up. Rather quickly. Within moments, I caught myself taking a large breath in…..and on the outbreath I shouted at the top of my lungs. The very top of my lungs. F bombs were sprinkled liberally amongst the ‘telling the whole world off’.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Everyone has got to do this at least once in their life, right? I would love to hear a recording of this. I felt certain in the wisdom of this admonishment to the world. I admit that I cannot remember the details of the rant. My guess is that this might have been sustained for 4-5 minutes. When I was through, I sat <\/p>\n \u201cIt is all Fun and Games until someone gets injected with Vitamin H\u201d<\/strong>. Well this little injection<\/strong> <\/em>left me snowed for two days!! I was shocked to hear my Psychiatrist nonchalantly agree, \u201cYes, you were obtunded\u201d. Obtunded! Honest to God. His casual approach to the topic made it appear that this is a common occurrence in his world. I am not making this up!! My Mom and Dad inform me that they spent 2 hours that night watching me breath. They felt they frequently had to shake me<\/em> to restart my breathing. I was in a light coma, essentially: a \u00a0\u201cIt’s called the Haldol shuffle\u201d <\/i>Stated by a 35 year veteran of the Psychiatric ward.<\/span><\/p>\n Caregiver Fear:\u00a0 treated.\u00a0 Optimal?\u00a0 Not in my opinion.\u00a0 Is shouting dangerous?\u00a0 No.\u00a0 There is always two sides to all stories.\u00a0 Doctor’s defense?\u00a0 In his words, My Brain got a much needed<\/em> rest.\u00a0 <\/em><\/strong>Informed consent obtained from the Patient, me?\u00a0 No.\u00a0 The Power given by the Mental Health Act removes all of the rights normally belonging to a patient.\u00a0 Pity …<\/p>\n I lament because if they had offered me something oral, I would have taken it.\u00a0 I was wise enough to know I had\u00a0no choice.\u00a0\u00a0<\/strong>I am left with a sense that the system fears underdosing<\/strong>.\u00a0 I recommend we Let. That. Fear. Go.\u00a0 Debriefing this with one of the nurses, she felt that injection would only be given if oral was not an option. An Oral option was not presented to me. The nurse goes on to proclaim that the call to inject would be from one of the nurses. My perception was it was the Security Guard. Or they made the call with the door closed just upon hearing a little shouting. They did not even attempt to assess<\/strong>. Kind of a kneejerk reaction<\/b> to my mind. So 2 less days in my Experience of Life.\u00a0 I have a saying, What is a day, a week, a month, a year in the big scheme of things<\/em><\/strong>. Then again, perhaps I was on an amazing Astral Tour of another Dimension. I do not have any recollection of what my consciousness was up to. Who knows how these things happen? Truth is Stranger than Fiction sometimes…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Interestingly, on my first admission, I had thought to myself that it would be my worst nightmare to be held down and injected with Vitamin H. Last time while in lockdown, too much love,<\/em> I was witness to a fellow patient receiving the beloved injection due to an angry outburst. It hurt my Soul to see it … and every time I saw it in training, or in the movies for that matter. The other patients and I all felt that we could have talked to the afflicted patient and hence avoided the need for Vitamin H. I saw<\/b> the injection was more about the caregiver’s fear<\/b> than the patient’s anger. I will always wonder about a parallel system that is H<\/strong>eart-Open<\/b>. I imagine care can be given without the need of the system’s beloved Vitamin H<\/em>. I propose that intuitive people exist that would be in an excellent position to formulate a new approach<\/em> to Mental Health Care. I have faced so many of my fears in this life. Add this one to the list. System 2, Ang\u00e8<\/span>le 0. But then again…who is keeping score?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n This second hospitalization allowed great contrast for me to reflect on. The first time, I was refusing therapy for the first week. I was a defiant teenager throughout. I am wiser now to see that this system is pretty nailed down. Once you are in, Committed<\/em> especially, the only way out that I am aware of is compliance – at some level anyway. New tactic this second time was to refuse most medications but ensure I took just <\/b>enough to satisfy my Captors<\/strong><\/em>.\u00a0 Then you lower the drugs even more once you are discharged.\u00a0 My scientific, Doctor self had <\/p>\n My experience feels completely otherwise. Want to be clear, I do benefit from my low dose Lithium (600mg).\u00a0 I am curious.\u00a0 My sense is there is a wider understanding to my condition waiting to be discovered.\u00a0 I will figure out how.\u00a0 I know that I can.\u00a0 …And it is easy.<\/strong>\u00a0 My mania came back into control within a couple of days. Not really a big deal. The Doctor had a timeline that was a gradual earning<\/em> of privileges, like leaving the ward but only in the company of family, tricky with limited visiting hours, and over time<\/b> builds up to day or weekend passes. I must jump through the hoops for my Freedom. OK. Watch me jump.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I love Freedom<\/b>…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I wrote these words while on a day pass<\/strong><\/em>. Not really sure when I would be discharged. It felt out of my hands. I had a wonderful day visiting with my friend and daughter. I spent 2 hours sitting in my orange Adirondack chair listening to my backyard waterfall and appreciating the lush greenery and the numerous blooms. The Salvia flowers offered punctuations of indigo. My clematis vine with its purple flowers was in its full glory \u2013 a true spectacle. I was in a hurry to write about this hospital experience. The sooner I expressed this, the quicker I was Free. I did shed a couple of tears each time I have thought about or told this story. The tears were the Soulful, super-healing kind…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I was discharged the next day, making it a 13 day stay. It was funny how the Doctor mentioned he was sending me home and \u201cwhat did I think of that?\u201d My squeaked reply, \u201cthere is a God\u201d. We closed that chapter. Yes!!<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Home Sweet Home.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n At the same time, I Had Never Felt More Assaulted<\/strong> in My Life….<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Philippine Prison – Dancing Inmates 2010 Tribute to Michael Jackson<\/a><\/strong>.\u00a0 Love this!\u00a0 Those inmates look pretty organized…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Above written July 2013<\/p>\n <\/p>\n April 29, 2014 I add:<\/p>\n I enjoyed a trip to Norway in October 2013. It was the first time I had experienced illiteracy in any significant way:\u00a0 minimal at best. There were a few small incidents where I was truly lost. Once at a parking machine. Several restaurants, I needed to review the menu one on one with with server. That is always fun <\/span><\/span>albeit humbling.<\/span><\/span> The funniest experience occurred in a small town called <\/span><\/span>\u00c5lesund on the west coast. I attended the Aquarium and was grabbing a snack before I left. I was craving milk…just white milk. I saw a cooler displaying several varieties <\/p>\n I ask you to try to put yourself into the situation I describe.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I liken this mundane example as an analogy to the security guard and staff jumping to conclusions about me when they heard my therapeutic rant. The rant was over. They were setup to believe that I was a risk to someone and needed to be controlled. I think shouting might scare<\/strong> them.\u00a0 <\/em>I was there. I beg to differ.\u00a0\u00a0Worth noting I was 33 hours without sleep by this time.\u00a0 A little edgy perhaps?\u00a0 It is not a crime.\u00a0 Or is it?\u00a0 Kinda reminds me of Medical School…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n There was a risk that I might have had lusty thoughts about the man in uniform<\/em>. I have been known to say \u201chi\u201d to men in uniform. Sometimes I ask for a hug, usually settling for a high five if I am lucky. This was the greatest risk I posed at that time.<\/p>\n I would love to do a small research project putting 30 healthy<\/strong><\/em> adults through the conditions I experienced on my first day in the hospital.\u00a0 Left in a busy Emergency Department without sleep for 33 hours and then incarcerate them in a system that they do not believe in.\u00a0 I wonder what type of response they would have?\u00a0 I have always found it so ironic that those first hours when a patient is admitted into the hospital, presumably they are most acute in their symptoms, they get the least care.\u00a0 Almost none?\u00a0 I wonder if a small dose of oral medicine (better yet, a 20 minute long hug)\u00a0 given to me upon arrival<\/strong> in the nearly full-blown manic state might have prevented a scene that was traumatic to the Souls of all<\/strong> involved.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I hold steady that I could have taken a wee extra little something to supplement my restarting the Lithium and rested at home with a friend by my side.\u00a0 Two days later, I would be able to care for myself again.\u00a0 Hospital Staff living in the Fear\/Scarcity mindset were a risk to my Health.\u00a0 In Medical Terms: Iatrogenic<\/strong><\/a> harm. I would have recovered uneventfully by my own care at home.\u00a0 Of that, I am sure<\/strong>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n We have such a long history with this Abusive Behavior. I boldly state that we do not even know the Natural History\u00a0<\/strong>(see prior story “Wisdom Teeth…”<\/strong>)<\/a> of so many of these conditions anymore.\u00a0 Are we painting every patient with the same brush, so to speak?\u00a0 When looking through the lens of F<\/strong>ear, Love<\/b> will appear invisible.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I now hold strong in the belief that feeling<\/b> emotions is an important therapeutic activity. If that feeling requires ranting,<\/b> that is a pretty safe form of therapy. It is not known to have a lot of side effects aside from feeling better.\u00a0 <\/b>Scratchy voice can be noted if the rant is particularly long…and loud.\u00a0 Louder can be better in my experience.\u00a0 When your caregivers misinterpret an important therapy as a symptom and treat it with medications, you might F<\/strong>all Down<\/b> (poke fun at the large Fall Prevention Booklet<\/strong> psychiatric patients receive upon admission) or worse become O<\/strong>btunded. <\/p>\n<\/a>experiences both times I was manic.<\/p>\n<\/a>Emergency Department. All. Night. Long. I determined months later on review of the nurse’s notes that it was all day the next day also – kinda lost track of time.<\/p>\n<\/a>down on the bed. Aaaaaaaaaah, that felt so much better. I took deep breaths and felt completely under control again. I felt healed. I marveled to myself how therapeutic that was. Next thing I know, the door was ajar. A man in uniform (oooo baby) peeked in with 3 nurses hovering nervously behind him. I was jarred back to the reality of my setting, \u201cThe Looney Bin\u201d. Strange, if I had this verbal onslaught almost anywhere else in the world, it would have had no ramifications. I made a lot of noise but nobody was in danger or was hurt. Judging by the looks on everybody’s faces, I realized that I had to \u201csell myself\u201d…and quickly or this could get dramatic. Instantly I was reaching out my arms consoling the staff, \u201cI am so sorry\u201d, \u201cI am so sorry\u201d, \u201cI feel so much better now\u201d… It was only the \u201cman in uniform\u201d talking. Hmmmm…. Strange. (And I catch myself still slogging that old fantasy). Even in this setting….Oh dear, Ang\u00e8<\/span>le. When will you let that one go? I was pleading with the Uniformed man, \u201cwe are connecting\u201d I told him and he agreed. \u201cIt is OK\u201d. \u201cI am completely fine now\u201d. The man advanced into the room slowly with the 3 nurses huddled in the doorway, the door fully opened now. One moment I felt I was connecting with him and then I saw the instant change. What? What changed? I was calm! He gave the nod. The next moment, 4 people held me down (despite the fact that I am not fighting them) and I was given an intramuscular injection of Haldol \u2013 an antipsychotic medication better known in my medical training days as Vitamin H<\/strong>.<\/p>\n<\/a>medicine-induced coma. Apparently 5mg is too much for me.<\/p>\n<\/a>many doubts<\/b> as to the validity of the system.\u00a0 Who sets the boundaries? Who made the rules? How long ago were they made? When was the last time we thoroughly questioned what we do in Mental Health Care? Not so fun fact:\u00a0 Big change to the Alberta Mental Health Act now compared to the time I trained as a Doctor.\u00a0 It used to be once the acute phase<\/em> passed, the conditions no longer existed to hold a patient against their will – one week maximum.\u00a0 Now <\/strong>a power surge was given to the Act when a clause was added that a committed patient could be held up to 30 days<\/strong><\/em>.\u00a0 I understand the spirit of it.\u00a0 It is just a whole lot of power given to the system.\u00a0 In the reality that I experienced in my first admission, the doctor wanted to maximize that 30 days, as was his legal right.\u00a0 Huge power differential between the patient and the Doctor.\u00a0 All rests in the Doctor’s judgment. (*see P.S. below)\u00a0 Mine justified my length of stay, despite stabilizing fairly quickly, during my two admissions as a chance for me to attend the group therapies<\/strong><\/em>.\u00a0 In a nutshell, the groups are well-intentioned yet lame – except art therapy!\u00a0 My assessment is that those working this system want everyone to live in the same sized box as they do. Many perceive through lenses of fear and scarcity so love and abundance appear invisible. But the beauty of the diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder – I had noted this decades before being diagnosed with the condition myself- is that part and parcel of the diagnosis is lack of insight into one’s condition<\/strong><\/em>. If you think differently from the system<\/em><\/strong>, it is just further proof that you have the disorder and<\/b> nothing you postulate could possibly be true.\u00a0 Catch 22.\u00a0 My own professional family members were completely taken in by the argument<\/em>. My mother had rarely<\/strong> before in her life listened to anything a Doctor had told her…until now<\/b>. The Doctor’s fears fed into my mom’s desire to keep me safe<\/em>. Any good mom wants her child to be safe. Better to be safe than sorry is the chosen<\/strong> mindset. It is the biggest irony of the whole matter. My mother’s history was as one of the biggest skeptics towards Western Medicine that I know. Then I heard her echoing the fears<\/strong> of the Doctor. There was a fire blazing in my brain. If I should go off the medicine and the condition recur, it could burn hotter and be much harder to extinguish – if it is extinguishable at all. Wow! It is so risky to stop the medicine<\/strong><\/em>. Oh, please…<\/p>\n<\/a>of milk, <\/span><\/span>different colors<\/span><\/span>. The carton depicted in the photo is the very one I purchased that day. I did not ask questions because I have <\/span><\/span>a lot of experience<\/b><\/span> buying milk. <\/span><\/span>Or so I thought…I purchased this milk with 100% confidence. \u00a0<\/strong>You don’t know what you don’t know…until you know it.<\/em> \u00a0<\/span><\/span>T<\/span><\/span>his <\/span><\/span>carton<\/span><\/span> was white. I presumed that <\/span><\/span>the<\/span><\/span> milk inside <\/span><\/span>would also be white<\/span><\/span>. I drove back to my hotel and then opened the carton and took a sip. <\/span><\/span>Big surprise<\/span><\/span>!! It did not taste right at all! What is going on here? It almost tastes like….watermelon?? I have never heard of watermelon flavored milk. I must admit, I am <\/span><\/span>not<\/b><\/span> a fan. When I look<\/span><\/span>ed<\/span><\/span> at the carton, I laugh<\/span><\/span>ed<\/span><\/span> out loud. <\/span><\/span>That cow looks like a watermelon! Now that I have tasted it, it is so obvious. Yet that watermelon cow was absolutely invisible to my eye when I looked at that white carton and instantly jumped to the conclusion that the milk would be white because that was what I <\/span><\/span>expected<\/span><\/span>. <\/span><\/span>I wanted that milk to be white.<\/span><\/span> Watermelon milk was outside of my sense of what was possible \u2013<\/span><\/span> outside of my reality. S<\/span><\/span>o it was invisible <\/span><\/span>to my perception<\/span><\/span> even when it was in clear sight.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
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