50 Ways To Celebrate Christmas When You Are In A Psychiatric Unit

Christmas is like Global warming. Whether you believe in it or not, it exists as a concept/event that people talk about. Maybe you have already written your letter to Santa (or to use the Global warming analogy, separated out your recycling for the week), or maybe you hate Christmas trees and are a real life embodiment of Scrooge (I guess in the global warming analogy, equivalent to this would be burying hundreds of plastic carrier bags in the back garden under a fire of perfectly recyclable paper, that you then dance around whilst spraying aerosol cans and cackling manically), either way, no matter what you do, whether you celebrate it or live by it or not, it is a thing and it is not going away.

Christmas is also something that is happening in the very near future, and is a festive period that a portion of the world’s population will be celebrating/experiencing in psychiatric hospitals. Maybe the idea of missing out on properly taking part in the holiday season doesn’t bother you because you are our embodiment of Scrooge (in which case hello, here is a friendly reminder that December does not last forever…also I have a sweetie for you…it is a humbug), but what if you are our Santa Claus worshipping/Christmas loving wannabe elf? What do you do then? How can you get through the Christmas period and celebrate what you consider to be the most wonderful time of the year when all the mince pies and fairy lights are in the outside world, whilst you are stuck on a corridor of mental health nurses, health care assistants and locked doors at every turn? Well my friends, if that is you then what you do is come to this blog (as you have done already, so thanks for that…I would give you a sweetie but I don’t think I have any that you will like…I do have some tinsel though…go wild!), because today I am here to solve that problem and provide you with 50 ways to celebrate this festive season if you are, like I am, spending all or part of it stuck in hospital…

  1. Get a reed diffuser with a Christmas scent like “Winter Spice” or “Gingerbread” to give your room a more Christmassy ambience/make it smell less like industrial strength cleaner, and the pile of tear soaked tissues in the corner.
  2. Buy a pair of antlers and put them on the pet therapy dog.
  3. Impersonate crackers by wandering the corridors shouting “BANG” at random intervals, then proceeding to tell a joke and throw a paper hat and tiny pack of cards at anyone nearby (real crackers are unfortunately NOT allowed in most units because apparently they count as “explosives”…)
  4. Have a Christmas movie night with the other patients (if choosing a film is difficult maybe write down a list of suggestions and pull one from a hat…a Santa hat…obviously.)
  5. Spray fake snow on the windows which are likely to be misted over so that people can’t see in anyway and therefore will not interfere with the ability to see daylight/the clouds if you live in the UK.
  6. Do Christmas shopping online or send everyone a message saying that you can’t buy them a present this year because you are in hospital where shopping opportunities are severely limited.
  7. If allowed foliage, get a Christmas tree for the ward or at least a plastic one.
  8. Again, if allowed, decorate your room excessively to the point that Doctors and nurses comment on it in your notes.
  9. March the corridors with a CD player booming out all of the Christmas songs that the people around you will surely not be sick of hearing quite yet.
  10. Tie string around one of the staff members and then shout “On Donner on Blitzen! Now Prancer and Vixen!”
  11. Run around/walk glacially if on an Eating Disorder ward, asking “Has he been yet?” with frantic excitement.
  12. Set up a fancy dress competition and judge the therapeutic abilities of every staff member by how much effort they put in.
  13. Jingle bells outside everyone’s room each morning to add a festive wake up call to their morning routine.
  14. If you are allowed to cook or have a supported cooking group with an Occupational Therapist, bake mince pies and gingerbread men.
  15. Gather cotton wool balls for blood tests from the clinic and make your very own Santa beard.
  16. Knock on the staff room door and when they open it start carol singing.
  17. Insist that all wheelchairs be referred to as “sleighs”
  18. Insist your bedroom be referred to as “The Grotto”
  19. When visitors message you and ask if you need them to bring anything in for you, phone them back and sing out “BRING US SOME FIGGY PUDDING OH BRING US SOME FIGGY PUDDING”. Put a bit of gusto into it.
  20. Leave mistletoe above all of the doors that only staff are allowed to use in order to create awkward situations between the pharmacist and ward manager.
  21. Write a letter to Santa asking for leave over Christmas or maybe a discharge date if you have been VERY well behaved this year.
  22. Whenever a decision is made or treatment option that you do not agree with is suggested shout “Humbug”.
  23. Play Charades (a really good Christmas game for the days you are too depressed to talk but are physically capable of using mime to portray the literary classic “Little Women”.)
  24. Put glitter on your therapy homework
  25. Make a “gingerbread house” out of care plans.
  26. When you feel a panic attack coming on, get that CD player out and start playing “The Carol Of the Bells” aka the most intense and dramatically stressful song of all time (they use it in Home Alone when things are getting really dangerous and the burglars are on the way).
  27. Yell at the night staff for staying awake through the night and making noise, because at Christmas it is supposed to be that “not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse” let alone a mental health nurse doing checks.
  28. Write to the catering department and request sprouts.
  29. Create a tombola to raise money for the ward and leave posters around so that visitors can enter.
  30. Name one member of staff “Rudolph” and then do not let that member of staff play any of your reindeer games.
  31. Gather the patients together and perform your very own nativity
  32. If the ward is full (and let’s face it, with the shortage of inpatient beds across the country it is going to be), make a sign and hang it on the door to let people know there is “no room at the inn”
  33. Make Christmas cards for everyone on the ward.
  34. When you see the cleaner, steal their broom (sounds weird but apparently in Norway it is traditional to hide the brooms to keep all the bad spirits out at Christmas time…seriously google it…and steal those brooms!)
  35. Make your own Christmas drink stall with decorated mugs so that patients don’t miss out on the vital Christmas activity of taking a photo of their gingerbread latte in a Christmas cup to post on Facebook and Instagram.
  36. If a nurse asks to do a heart tracing/ECG refuse because last Christmas you gave someone your heart and “the very next day they gave it away” meaning that this year to save you from tears you have given it “to someone special”.
  37. Set up a secret Santa situation so that everyone gets a little present in December.
  38. Bring three wise men to your ward round. Or some shepherds (sheep optional).
  39. If you need the toilet in the night, pull the emergency alarm and ask staff to escort you through the dark to the bathroom with their star (aka the torch they keep shining through your window).
  40. Tie carrots to every door handle incase one of Santa’s reindeer comes past and gets peckish. EVERY door. Reindeers are unpredictable in terms of location especially at this time of year.
  41. Tamper with the emergency response alarms so that every time staff pull them they play Good King Wenceslas instead of that infuriating beeping noise
  42. Make balls of coal out of papermache and give them to all the staff who have been annoying you recently. Also tell them that they are on the naughty list.
  43. Flood the wet room, freeze it and go ice skating.
  44. If you are on 1:1, take a little drum to the toilet with you and bang it furiously in impersonation of “the little drummer boy” so that staff cannot hear you urinating.
  45. Wrap all objects available in wrapping paper and put bows on everything. It will be incredibly inconvenient and will likely destroy the rainforest but damn will things look lovely.
  46. When you knock on the clinic door for medication every morning have the staff announce the date as they open the door prior to the giving of the meds in order to be a real life mental health version of an advent calendar.
  47. Knock a hole in the wall, wear orange, sit in the hole and flail around a bit next to a sign inviting passers by to roast chestnuts over the “open fire”. Technically you should get planning permission for this one but my advice is to not bother because it will probably be denied and you do not want this opportunity for festive activity ruined…
  48. Ask to be treated for “Low Elf Esteem”
  49. In art therapy make some puppets and re-enact The Muppet’s Christmas Carol.
  50. Rewrite the lyrics to the 12 days of Christmas (Examples of ideas include “four HCAs three bank staff two stress balls and Lorazepam in a pear treeeeeeeeee”.)

So there you have it! 50 ways to celebrate Christmas when you are stuck in a psychiatric unit and are feeling all too far away from the fairy lights, Christmas markets and winter wonderland set ups across the country. As I said last year, when it comes to Christmas there is nothing I or any of us can do to make sure it is definitely a “Merry” occasion, but I do hope at least, that however you feel about Christmas and wherever you are spending it, you get through the festive season in the best possible way with the best possible and safest outcomes for all. If you have a merry time then that is fabulous, but remember, if you are struggling with it, that is ok too. Christmas is a hard time for a lot of us but I will be thinking of you all.

Take care everyone x

HospitalChristmas

Is It Possible To Be Too Open About Your Mental Health?

TRIGGER WARNING: This blog post contains reference to certain medical treatments that can be used with people with eating disorders, so if that is something you would find unhelpful then please do not read it for your own safety. If you are like the witch in the Wizard of Oz who melts when coming in contact to water, THIS is your warning to STEP AWAY FROM THE FLUME.

In both the mental and physical health worlds, confidentiality is a BIG thing. When it comes to your wellbeing, there are a lot of rules between professionals, your medical notes and what can or can’t be said in front of friends and family.
Want to keep that random extra hand sprouting from your lower back a secret from Aunt Enid so that she doesn’t start knitting you an extra mitten every winter? No problem, medical confidentiality has got you covered (unlike your third hand which is now not going to have a mitten for Christmas).
Don’t want people at work to know that you have a condition that causes you to temporarily morph into a teapot whenever stressed? That’s fine. Tell the doctor and they will keep that tidily hidden away on a computer protected with lots of codes and National Health numbers that would make your deepest medical secrets hard to find, even if people were looking for them.
You see, when you are dealing with hospitals, everything is kind of like some kind of James Bond spy film, it is all very hush hush, very top secret, very “who can we talk about your bunions in front of” (which, coincidentally was the alternative title for the 1964 classic “Goldfinger” but Shirley Bassey didn’t want to sing about Bunions).
Not only is medical confidentiality important though, it is also fragile, and like all fragile things, this unfortunately means that it can very easily, even accidentally, get broken.

My question however, is if it is YOUR personal medical confidentiality, is it ok/are you allowed, to break it yourself? Are you allowed to be “too open” about matters that other people would usually keep private, in the interests of raising awareness of those issues?
Not to talk about any single person or specific situation in particular or anything (THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS ABOUT ME AND MY VERY CURRENT AND SPECIFIC SITUATION), but is it possible I ponder, for one to be too open say, about a mental health condition and the treatment that may be involved as a consequence?

Like I said, we are not talking about anyone in particular (THIS IS ALL ABOUT ME), but as a very rough, vague and unspecific example, lets go back to Monday the 27th of November 2017 at 10:01am when a link to a post on this fabulous mental health blog you might have heard of, was uploaded to try and give a rough update to readers of said blog regarding the situation (or rather, the colossal mess of a situation) of the writer.
Oh screw it, I cant keep the secret anymore. Ok yes! You are right! I am talking about my blog aka this blog and my situation last Monday when I tried to write a post to tell everyone the latest news and was incredibly vague about everything, which is unusual for someone who usually speaks honestly and openly about everything personal and mental health related. Why was I incredibly vague? Well, because I was scared after staff had raised concerns about me sharing certain things on my blog, which really freaked me out and had me very worried and confused.

Thing is, when it comes to medical confidentiality, I kind of see it like you see a piggy bank, it belongs to you, you can look after and protect it, but at the same time, you and you alone are allowed to break it.
Were you to go over to someone else’s house, find and destroy their piggy bank and run off with all the money inside (or say medical details), that would be wrong on many levels. It would be theft, it would be a breach of someone’s privacy, destruction of their property and the murder of a perfectly good ceramic piggy. If however you have your own piggy bank and, after several years of amassing various coins of experience, decide that you don’t mind sharing those experiences and spending those coins out in the world in the hopes of making a difference, and consequently smash your own ceramic oinker to smithereens with a mallet…I think that is ok, because it is your property, your information to share, your little piggy to destroy (and then mourn over appropriately of course).

It is still important to be responsible for your information of course, and I don’t believe people should, as it were, shove their information coins into other peoples faces whether they like it or not.
There should always be warnings to alert people when someone is talking about a sensitive issue that could be triggering or harmful to others, so that they as a reader can use their own personal responsibility to choose to remove themselves from potential harm. Nobody should be forced on a flume and plunged into a bath of emotions without the opportunity to get their rubber duck out but similarly, if you know you melt when you come in contact with water, maybe don’t go on a flume.

Admittedly this is more complicated with things like mental health problems which can sometimes cause you to do things, read things and get involved in things you might know deep down are harmful, but we can’t all be silent about everything, and if Donald Trump is allowed his own twitter account then I like to think I can spout my nonsense freely and use my free speech on my blog in my little corner of the internet.
That is how I see all this, all the drama that I have been caught up in over the past week about what it is and what it is not ok to share, whether there are some things that should be kept confidential and whether you can or can’t be “too honest” about personal matters, and it is that opinion that has led me to just throw caution to the wind and write this post being honest about things anyway.
This is of course merely my opinion, and I am sure there are many people out there who will disagree, but there we go, we can’t all like mashed potatoes made by the same recipe, opinions vary, some people don’t like lumps, some people don’t like pepper and others don’t like to read blogs about people who talk about mental health (weirdos). End of.

So what is going on? What has been happening? What have I been skirting oh so daintily around for the past fortnight? Well I will tell you because like I said, this is my piggy bank and if I want to take a mallet to it then I damn well will.
Basically, as you know, I have been in a psychiatric unit being treated for my eating disorder for the past 10/11 weeks, but things were not going well and I was not managing mentally or physically with any of this recovery business. It was then decided that we had reached a point where it wasn’t safe to keep me where I was anymore (which feels so weird and confusing to write as I still adamantly believe that I am perfectly fine and do not need any of the things going on around me, but that is a topic for another time). Anyway, as a consequence of various decisions regarding my mental and physical health last week, I had a week or so away over to a medical ward, and, if this post is going up in time and all the professionals stick to the current plan, I will hopefully have been transferred back to the mental health place on the Friday before you are reading this.

When you have an eating disorder there are a lot of physical complications that can happen as a result and there are sometimes a lot of things that may need to be medically treated as well as mentally, but the main reason for this transfer was so that I could be fitted with an Nasogastric tube (aka a tube that goes up your nose and then down into your tummy so that you can be given nutrition without having to eat it yourself if needed).
Some eating disorder units can do this procedure on site themselves and many do, but the one I am in has been unable to until now (hence why a few weeks ago I was talking about maybe being sent to Glasgow or somewhere else across the country). With no beds becoming available in time though, I had to just pop off to get it done on the medical ward and have some treatment over there. Like I said though, if all goes to plan, by the time you are reading this, I will be back on the mental health ward, still with my tube for a bit now it is safely up and running, but working to have it out as soon as possible which would be nice, as I am not thrilled about this new accessory (I would have preferred a bowtie but alas you cannot give someone nutrition through a bow tie. Not even a sparkly one). It was this whole tube thing that caused the staff to get a bit over excited with the “shushing” (picture a librarian after several hundred cups of espresso).

If I am trying to see from their point of view, I guess I can kind of sort of understand on some level. For example, I know there are some people who might find talk of NG tubes triggering, and unfortunately there are occasions and certain sufferers/people who see them as something to take pride in, something that proves they are “really ill”. This is of course ridiculous as every eating disorder is equally severe and serious and everyone is “really ill” regardless of whether they have been through certain treatment options or not. Even if you have never received any treatment for an eating disorder you are as ill as someone who may have been in therapy for years, and the last thing I would ever want is to give a message on my blog contradicting that.
However at the same time, whilst a tube is something I do not think one should be proud of, I do not think it is something to be ashamed of either and that was what stressed me out so much last week. I was all there ready to go ahead and write as per usual, and suddenly everyone was telling me that what I wanted to talk about was inappropriate, which had me paranoid that I should be ashamed of what was going on or that this happening meant that I had let everybody down by “failing” to get better, and thus not say anything at all just to be on the safe side. To be honest I don’t think a tube is anything to feel particularly anything about. It just is. Sometimes they just happen to get fitted to people who have eating disorders to help them try and get out of being rather stuck in a highly sticky syrup/velcro/superglue bound/sellotape/plaster situation.

If you are reading this and think that me admitting any of this is to be too open about mental health/confidentiality breaching then I am honestly sorry, but like I said, talking about mental health and my experiences within the realm of mental health treatment is something I am passionate about both in terms of reaching out to others, raising awareness, breaking stigma and misunderstandings about various illnesses and overall making people feel less alone and not as weird and isolated as I did when I kept all of my problems bottled up and never had anyone to relate to. Maybe I am breaking a piggy bank, but it is my piggy bank to break and it has been my decision to be honest about it.

I won’t go on about it any more now because writing this much is scary enough as it is, but I hope in the future I will be able to write about how this experience and tube feeding in general has affected me and how it can be used in treating people with eating disorders. It isn’t a nice topic, nor is it a nice experience, but it happens.
Now if you don’t mind, I am off to hide under my bed as I do when I post all scary blog posts that could potentially make someone angry with me/get me into trouble (I also need to hide from the cleaner…that is one thing nobody warns you about when you get a tube…when you have one in there is a genuine risk of being mistaken for a Henry hoover and dragged across a carpet snorting crumbs for three hours…) I hope this has been ok, I hope having this tube doesn’t mean you feel that I have let you down and if not I really am very sorry. I promise I am still trying.

Take care everyone x

PiggyConfidentiality