Getting Locked Up in Las Vegas by Accident

Although those unaffected still aren't 100% educated it CAN lead to mistakes or misunderstanding quickly. Which to be honest, is how I ended up getting locked up for a simple statement I made at work one day.

I had just chosen to go back to work at my former place of employment. Things were good for about two weeks, not nearly as bad as they had been before I quit. Then an E-scam defrauded me! Some idiot had picked up on my resume on line and sent me an email for a side job or so I thought. Don't take any fake cashier's checks to the bank. I fought like heck to get anyone to care or even help me. This process took about two and a half weeks. No government agency OR my bank would help. I was out thousands of dollars and overdrawn. The STRESS factor was at it's highest ever. Magnify your own stress factor by 100, now you know where I was at.

Just getting back to work after a two month sabbatical with no income, borrowing from relatives for a short time to make my bills and BAM! Talk about a hole, no not just a hole - a CRATER to be stuck in. Living manic I don't sleep properly, stress was pushing my buttons and worry was eating me up. HOW was I going to fix all this? The straw that broke the camel's back was receiving a phone call from a Las Vegas Metro Detective informing me that "the Police have no jurisdiction over this type of crime, ma'am." I should have known, with my luck in life. The police had been my last hope, when everyone else had refused.

By the time I began work that fateful morning after receiving phone calls from both my bank and the Detective that nothing would be done to aide me, I was a mental mess. Which translates to deep depression and a lot of tears. Now ask yourself, dear reader, wouldn't you be a mess also? There was no concentration going on in my head, but I was performing my tasks mechanically. My supervisor came in to see me and asked me the problem. I explained everything and made the statement "that some days I just don't feel like living." And believe me there are days I don't FEEL like living, so do most. How about when you have a horrible hangover, for instance?

I asked if I could take my work home and do it from there, so I could get myself calmed down and in a different frame of mind. Somehow my supervisor took this to mean I was a danger to myself or maybe to others I guess. I WASN'T suicidal, rather just making an inane statement that [I would guess] everyone has made at one time or another in their lives without really meaning anything. I have to live, if for no other reason, my mother counts on me to take care of her. Someday I might have to wipe her behind, the same way she did mine when I was a baby. It's called The Circle of Life. Uh, yeah!

In fact, the last time I attempted suicide was 17 years ago. As mentioned in a previous article, I had a hormonal imbalance to go along with the chemical imbalance in my brain. Which was diagnosed the next day after my suicide attempt - hormone medication was prescribed and those thoughts were gone. POOF! No more suicide attempts to date.

My supervisor asked if I would just finish up for a few hours in the office and then could go home. Okay sure, I can handle that. I would close my door and work silently. Pretty soon she came into to see me again, asking how I was. Repeating I was still the same. DUH! Obviously the tears were there and there is no way of escaping depression immediately. Most don't understand this fact though. Wish I had a quarter, heck a dollar, for every time I have heard "you just need to pull yourself up by your bootstraps honey - you'll be okay!" I don't own any boots much less with straps. But if I had all those dollars and quarters I might think about buying a pair.

While I had been working in my office, my supervisor informed me she had made some phone calls. She wanted to take me to speak with someone who could calm me down and help me with different medications. All right! That sounded great. Plus I really trusted my supervisor - she was the main reason for going back to my old job to begin with. We were friends besides being just co-workers.

When we arrived in her car at the Psychiatric hospital, I began to wonder and should've known better. But still a mess and not thinking quite coherently enough, I followed along. Good puppy! Now let me explain this hospital is pretty new and the state spent $30 million dollars to build. So one would think that it must be run very efficiently, but from my experience that is a fallacy. Compared to the older facilities I have been remanded to since that day - the facilitators of this new hospital have no idea what they are doing or how to do it. It is the biggest waste of taxpayer's dollars I have seen in only three visits.

We signed in and were told WE would be seen very shortly. All walks of life were sitting around this waiting room/lobby that I couldn't begin to describe. But let's just say it wasn't a normal hospital waiting room setting. All of this was quite new to me. I have been to psychiatrists, psychologists and counselors over the years; but never quite like this. You couldn't cut the apathy in that room with a knife, maybe a chainsaw.

Soon a nurse in scrubs called my name and my supervisor was instructed to wait in the lobby for me. Hey, what happened to the WE business? I followed the nurse in a dreamlike trance due to lack of sleep and current state of mind. Nurse Betty began asking questions once we reached her office. I tried my best to explain about being out of work previously and then getting defrauded, the stress and worry piling up, my lack of sleep leading to horrible depression and tears. Asked if I had insurance - which I didn't just getting back to work, my answer again was noted. I was waiting for some sort of psychiatrist or psychologist to appear so we could talk and I would get different medications to help me cope better. Apparently nurse Betty already knew about the statement I had made to my boss. She must have had a preconceived notion in her head, as I tried explaining just exactly what I had meant. It fell on deaf ears.

I never saw a doctor of any kind. No talks, no new medications. Nada. Although some things about that afternoon are a bit hazy still, between my behavior, my statement and my supervisor's concern for my safety, I was put on a Legal 2000 Hold. I cannot give you the full facts or description of this "hold" the state of Nevada can place on an individual, as I have been unable to locate anything to date. Suffice it to say, if the nurse feels you are suicidal - lock down is the method. BUT.... Hey I never said I was suicidal, I am tired and stressed out. The meds I am on aren't working. I need money....HEY!

Two criteria that must be met first are: A) the patient must be transported via ambulance to, B) a [medical] hospital for observation. I tried refusing very profusely to the nurse and the financial aid worker that I couldn't afford this luxury. I have no health insurance coverage and I am so far in the crater already. But I had no choice. If you refuse, the alternative is jail. Besides Nurse Betty me told me if I couldn't afford it, the state would "pick up the tab." I have recently found out that Nurse Betty lied to me. Sold me a bill a goods to get in the ambulance. The state is not only NOT, responsible for the ambulance and hospital bill, they can also bill you for services for the Legal 2000 Hold. On a sliding scale, of course. I should have chose jail - at least they can't charge you for services rendered! Or can they? I hope not.

From the moment nurse Betty mentioned Legal 2000 Hold, I could no longer be left alone either. Huh? Why not? "Well we don't want to upset you dear, but you might hurt yourself or someone else." WHAT! Ohmygod, what is going on here? I just came in to talk to somebody to calm down and get new meds. Nurse Betty informed my supervisor that they were going to be keeping me there and that I would have to give up most of my stuff to her [my supervisor]. Since I wouldn't be needing it. My thinking - they are going to just observe me at the hospital overnight and release me. OH NO! And don't bother to ask if you can smoke either! Especially during a very stressful time too! It began to dawn on me that I was being locked up because nurse Betty thought I was a nut! WAIT! I am NOT a nut job!

At least the ambulance drivers were nice and empathized with my position and depression over the recent tragic events happening in my life. Neither of them seemed to treat me like I was the usual suspect they transported. Before we took off and once we had arrived at the ER, (before going inside) I was allowed a couple of times to smoke what were to be my last cigarettes, for days. Man, that right there was enough to make me cry even harder.

All empathy stopped there also. Once reaching the ER of a major hospital, I was placed in an observation room right in front of the nurses' station WITH a camera in the ceiling watching my every move. I gave the nice camera the bird a few times while I was there. No one told me much other than "you will not smoke, you must surrender all possessions including clothes and shoes to be locked up." NO ONE was nice about it either. So pretty soon I began to get as nasty as the staff protecting me from myself. No bed, just a gurney and 4-point restraints I could look forward to IF I tried anything. Ever spend much time on a gurney? No? Well I hadn't either before this episode and if I ever have to again - shoot me! At this point I demanded to be knocked out if I had to suffer this treatment. Mr. Nurse (never got his name) happily obliged - in my arm. The worst place for a shot. I could tell how much he loved me.

I was soon gone in dreamland. After an indeterminate amount of time, Mr. Nurse was back screaming BREAKFAST at me. Unfortunately, the Haldol and Ativan I had been given was still working it's magic. I didn't wake for what appeared several more hours and Mr. Nurse had been replaced. The next nurse seemed nicer, but I still wasn't allowed anywhere but the bathroom or my gurney. Still no one would tell me much other than I would be there for up to 48 hours for observation. Gees, I already knew that much. I was brought lunch which wasn't all that appetizing, but I gagged a small amount down and asked for my meds again. I was completely miserable. I also was sure I was in hell!

Unbeknown-st to me, no one had been told where I was being taken. So my family, friends and boss had no idea where I was for the 48-hour observation period. When I had called my mother, earlier the day before, I had told her I was going to be at the psychiatric hospital. Everyone was calling each other to figure out if anyone knew where and how I was. To their shock and dismay, no one could get any information regarding me in anyway. I was just sort of lost out there. It practically gave my elderly mother a heart attack. It still angers me that HIPAA has been taken just a little too far in society.

The next time I awoke, many hours later, Mr. Nurse was back. Nasty as ever too. OH JOY! Apparently he doesn't like mental patients. I stood at my door and asked if I could have a shower and possibly something to eat. No one at the desk, directly in front of me, paid me any attention. So I quietly closed my door and pushed the call button for the nurse. Not that I wanted to deal with Mr. Nurse anymore than I had too. Pretty soon the light went off, but no one came for several long minutes. So I got up and pushed it again. Well that did it! I had pissed off Mr. Nurse (even more) so he came in and yanked it out of the wall and walked out! Never asking what I needed. He hadn't been at the desk when I asked nicely. He was, however, ready enough to give me more drugs to get me out of his hair. I hadn't even requested them this time. All I wanted was a shower and some food, but apparently that took too much of his time to arrange. Another shot in the arm. Again I was knocked out with Haldol and Ativan. Have you ever had this combination before? Me either, but it makes for some straaaaange dreams.

I am not sure how much time went by, but I was being tapped awake by a female nurse and told that it was shower time. Wait, I was supposed to take a shower now? I couldn't see straight, much less walk or stand up in a shower. But there was no getting out of it. I was told to hurry as I was being picked up soon. When asked where I was going? No one would tell me. After the hurried shower, I was given a clean gown and slipper socks to put on. I was supposed to go out in the middle of the night to a van this way? I believe it was somewhere around midnight and a very cold winter night. Oh no not me, I stole the blanket off my gurney and wrapped it around me for the walk to the parking lot. I probably wasn't the first one to do this.

To my drugged delight I had mates for the trip. Other whack jobs that I never knew were in the same ER as me. Looking back now, I realize why Mr. Nurse doesn't like mental patients and keeps them drugged up. No muss - No fuss, just put em out! So there were three of us for the trip to um, who knew where? I was so out of it, I slept for the trip across town. The other two were in pretty much the same shape. We were taken upstairs in an old nondescript building and asked questions, pictures taken of each of us and finally assigned a bed by some older lady and the van driver.

To be honest, I am not sure how I did with the question and answer part - but the picture (which I was allowed to see the day I was released) was the worst mug shot I have ever taken. It made driver's license photo's look like "Glamor Shots." I looked so pathetic and almost didn't recognize my own image. My wet hair going everywhere, my eyes - no way in focus. All that was missing was drool down my chin. Good lord, I scared myself. I looked nearly as bad as the pictures of Saddam Hussein when he was captured by the U.S. military.

The next thing I knew some little imp in a bright pink sweat suit was hollering me at that it was shower time. No shower for three days and now I get two in the same six hour period. No way, I rolled over and went back to sleep. Again, the little imp came by and hollered breakfast. This time I dragged myself up. No matter how drugged up I was, I knew I needed to eat something. But you must make your bed first. So I stumbled around and tried to make my bed up and then just followed along with everyone else. I figured eventually, someone would tell me something and I was right.

Most of the important information came from the other inmates. Men and women are kept separate by imaginary lines. The women's quarters are in the back and are sent to meals and medication tasks separately. Unless there are too many crazy men and then they will send a few of the less serious one's along with the women. The guards are called technicians and are friendly as long as you are no problem to them. Believe me when I say this new place, which was not the Psychiatric hospital I had originally been taken too, was much older and really everyone was nice. Discovering that I had been taken to one of the oldest crisis units maintained in town was mind bending.

I am not sure who decided that I was to go there with the other two inmates, whom I eventually got to know. Once I was no longer drugged out of my mind! I eventually got to see a doctor also. In fact, I was to see several doctors before my release several days later. The doctor realizing that I wasn't suicidal was the first vindication I earned after nearly a week of being locked up for my own good. Up to this point I had been forced to see nurse practitioners. Who, in the state of Nevada, are equals to Psychiatrists. I am not sure what board decided this was correct, but nurse practitioners ARE NOT Psychiatrists. They are nurses that stayed after class and blew the teacher in my opinion. Yeah, save your useless rhetoric also. I lived it - you didn't.

It only got better once I was released. I was advised not to go "right back to work" by the doctors. Which I heeded for the remainder of the week. They sent me home with my usual medications I had been taking, but also with a new one I had never been on before - Seroquel. It is a tricky little bugger too. Like all psychotropic drugs, it is a matter of trial and error to find the right dose for each individual case. I was prescribed 300 mg daily at bedtime. The only problem was that even taking it at 8:00 pm, I would still be asleep the next day at 11:30 am. I tried cutting the dose (pill) in half and it wasn't enough to let me get to sleep and I was mean and irritable the next day. I was caught in a Catch-22 situation. For two weeks I tried to make myself sleep less and less. Problem was that for the first five hours of the morning I couldn't talk, see or think straight.

How was I going to drive to work and do my job? I kept in constant contact with my office of everything I was going through. I tried to reason with my boss to allow me to work from home part-time until I could get in to see a Psychiatrist. No good, I got fired on a Friday evening via the telephone. Which I reminded my supervisor was the ONE illegal thing in this state. Informing her, she would have to fire me in person or draft a letter by law. I begged her to draft a letter stating that it was through "no fault of my own." Which is really the truth. So I would at least qualify for my unemployment. Instead I got an email the following Monday afternoon, with a note included that they had already hired someone (who started that same day) and had packed my things for me, which I could pick up at my leisure. She wished me well in my future endeavors. Yeah, right! What future?

What could I expect? Loyalty oh no, that would have been too politically correct. My unemployment oh no, that would have been a cost to the company. I got fired oh no wait, "we separated our working relationship because I am not available to perform the job position." Which in the state of Nevada will translate I didn't show up for work - no explanation necessary or asked for! End of story - you don't pass go, you do not collect your $362 per week measly unemployment dollars.

Thank you to my supervisor for how my life has ended up. I have no job, I will now have to explain to NEW employers WHY I was fired, and have bills coming out my A$$ from the ambulance - hospital ER - labs - doctor (I never saw but have a name for), etc. All to go along with the bills I already receive each month in the mail. Plus my family who decided to bail me out of the defrauding while I was LOCKED UP. I have so many appointments for nurses, Psychologists, pharmacies, Psychiatrists, etc from now up to the middle of July I don't know when or where I will be able to get a job. But just like the defrauding case - no one cares. Hey, that's my luck in life.

One nurse at the Psychiatric hospital who told me I was lucky after a 10 1/2 hour wait one day (last week) to see a Psychiatrist (which AGAIN was a nurse practitioner), that they always need people at McDonald's. Lady, I just lost a job that had paid me $42,000 per year (before benefits) before quitting because I was going to have a nervous breakdown several months ago. Only to go back AND when I went back not only did I have to go through probation again, but was paid less for the same damn job with a different supervisor and new title. And my supervisor misunderstood me and put me into this crummy merry-go-round system!

By the way Ms. Nasty [nurse], did I mention that I have been told more times than I can count (in this city) how OVERQUALIFIED I am for half the jobs I apply for? And the other half are scared to call due to the amount of money I make because I am very, very good at my job? That the past several jobs I have left, they needed to hire at least two or three to replace me because I am a multi-tasker and intelligent! But you wouldn't know anything about that Ms. Nasty [nurse], because you only see nut jobs all day long and had the unfortunate task to stay that evening until 7:00 pm and run into me at my angriest.

To say I am bitter would almost be an understatement. I am, however, amazed that I have been diagnosed Bi-Polar for 30 years and have never been locked up even when I was suicidal. Until now at least - when I wasn't suicidal! So, if you live in the great state of Nevada, watch what you say and who you say it to. Or you may find yourself held on a Legal 2000 Hold or face going to jail. Choose jail, it's got to be cheaper in the end. That's the way I'm going if I ever end up with the choice again.