What happens next?

Valiant husband phoned the nurse back and complained.

Then the doctor phoned husband and husband complained some more.

Upshot is, we are to come in to the retaining pen that is called a hospital, to see the psychiatrist in the morning. We will be allowed out....and we are asked to return in the afternoon so Service User can talk to a psychologist...

After that?

Service User is ' on leave' their term not mine. So they consider him to be an in patient. If we are told he is to stay in...then we stay in with him. 

Living on the streets is better than the holding pen ( hospital). It really is that bad in there. And no one can know how bad it is unless they have had a friend or relative taken in, and gone there themselves. The patients won't be believed, plus a month of play school level activities, locked in with ' florid psychotic men', and given drugs that affect your thinking and feeling...you wouldn't believe yourself!

The hardest part is finding out how we can stop this hideous charade of unhelpful ' help', disengage from non therapeutic ' therapy'. 

Meaning we are clearly suffering from mental health issues ourselves, as a healthy person wouldn't dismiss the valuable help provided by professional people...

After the phone call yesterday I finally collapsed, yesterday was too much and too far. Today I'm ill, I feel like I'm standing on a floor that will give way at any moment, or I'll receive an electric shock randomly until, like Seligman's dogs I will just give up trying to escape and lie there whimpering. 

I'm not even a patient! 

But I'm beginning to understand how awful they probably feel, to be at the focus of attention by the two faced, game playing, albeit well meaning staff....