One Who Flew Into The Cuckoo's Nest

Now eighty years old, I desperately want America to know about all my acutely psychotic patients I cared for as an acute psychiatric RN BSN. They lived lives of stench, starvation, sleeping on the streets, barely clothed, and so on-lives of pure horrible hell. Many people call them human garbage! My heart is breaking knowing that few in our government hear their cries for help! When I was working in Guam, there were no acute psychotic patients. I don't know now, but when I was there, the patients in Guam were wonderfully cared for by their government. They had small apartments and a small staff taking care of them. My unit in Hawaii was wild: chairs getting thrown around, a multitude of both staff and patient full-body takedowns to the floor, getting full-on punches or slaps to my face. One male patient threw me to the floor and tried to rip off my clothes. I was terrified. This job was extremely dangerous! At the height of a patient's psychotic break is when they are most dangerous! When I left Queen's Hospital, I promised my patients and God I would tell America about my patients' cruel stories. I know there are people trying to make a difference, and hopefully, my story can help them.

I also wrote briefly about my life as a child. At age five till age thirty-two, I was deemed "retarded," now called "challenged." At age thirty-two, I questioned my retardation. As I had always wanted to be a nurse, I took chemistry and earned an A. Whoopee! A whole new world opened for me.