inside somebody else's mind

the pinnacle of my nursing days...to be assigned in the famed ward 9.

i always made it a point to avoid passing ward 9 during my duties in the hospital. although i know for a fact that madness is not communicable, i was still scared shitless that by some cosmic anomaly (more like punishment and damnation) would fall on me and i'd be a looney for the rest of my life.

you'd have thought that we were lathered with glue, the way me and my groupmates stuck together on our first day in the war zone. you would too, when the patients would swarm around you, touching your shoulder and staring at you as if you were an exhibit in a museum chronicling the saga of human madness. one guy touched my arm and started raving about my braces. soon everyone was raving about my braces. the number of times i had to smile in that ward...

the thing about being in the ward is that you become unsure of yourself. it takes a toll on you, emotionally and physically, to be inside that ward since you have to keep reminding yourself that you are sane and that they aren't. you're suppose to guide them back to reality, not encourage their delusions and imagination. but then, guiding these people back to reality is tough. constant reminder of who you are and where you are, are essential in keeping yourself normal for the first few hours inside. the temptation to let go and pretend, that yes, kissing everyone on the first meeting, is very strong.

part of the routine in the ward is to take care of your patient's hygiene. yes, hygiene. when the mind goes, everything else follows. personality, hygiene and clothes...off, then gone. thankfully, my patient was well enough to do hygiene herself...i just had to supervise and remind her of some things but other than that i had it easy in the ward. after all, my friends had to spend at least 30 minutes inside the makeshift bathroom with their patients stripping and bathing.

as the hours go by, apprehension soon wears off and appreciation settles in. by appreciation, i mean that we start to see theory in action. discussions inside the room are seen in the patients' behaviour; not that we learn that much in the classroom, mind.

there are some exasparating moments--they are crazy after all, but an experience inside ward 9 can be surreal. i was unnerved by the fact that most of them knew that they were crazy and why they were there. if a person can tell you frankly that she's crazy, then is she really crazy? they were not the picture that we often see in television or read in books. true that some go berserk and have to be isolated, but most are, well, normal to say the least. how do you then classify crazy?? >.>

some moments are touching. once an inmate went nuts and started stripping inside the cell. when this happens you just don't walk up the cell and talk to the guy; you run (for the duration of my duty, i was scared...all the time...). on and on he went, screaming, begging, prostrating himself on the cold floor. unexpectedly, it was another inmate who managed to calm him down. she went by the door and started cooing and stroking the old man's face. soon, his screams subsided. frankly, i was amazed. it seems that even though their sanity is gone, the essence of being human is still within the recesses of their minds. that need to comfort and be comforted is there, existing, thriving and yearning...no sane person dared do that. one insane inmate did. in that aspect of caring, they are better than most sane people i know.

socialization came in on our last day. hah! amazing how these people love to sing old Tagalog ballads, to the point that i was on the brink of stupor and sleep--a no no in ward 9. they dance too--shuffling is more like it. games are carefully planned. you don't want these people arguing over who should win or lose now, don't you? in the karaoke session, my microphone gets handled by more than one inmate. not to be prejudiced or anything, but rumors of tuberculosis are present inside the ward (as told to me by one inmate) so i kept my microphone sealed inside the cellophane when i came home. i plan to dump it in hot water. hopefully, nobody at home will miss it.