Recently, a friend of mine who suffers from bouts of severe depression and flashbacks of an abusive childhood tried to end the pain. I found her and called 911. She was taken to a local hospital to be stabilized and then moved to a local mental health facility for treatment. She asked that I be allowed to stay with her during her intake interview and subsequent room assignment. Here is what I witnessed.

The room had large windows on all sides. Staff and patients alike had a clear view of my friend. She was scared, angry and crying. A registration technician was pushing forms in front of to sign. He did not make eye contact or offer a consoling word. He did not ask who I was and in what capacity I was there. My friend scribbled her signature on each form. He did not offer to explain what she was signing. Even if he had, she was not in any mental condition to understand.

He finished his work and a nurse came in. She explained that she was going to take vitals and ask some questions to determine my friends current mental condition. Couldn’t this have waited until she had calmed down, I thought. It was obvious she not in control of her emotions at that time. As the session continued, on two different occasions, male patients came into the room without knocking or asking for permission. I believe they were either picking up or returning a board game. These were the same two men who had been standing outside watching the intake process.

Now it is picture-taking time. The nurse explains that the pictures would be used to ensure that medications were not given to the wrong person. Apparently the pictures are put out on the medication table as the meds are handed out. The nurse looks at the picture before administering the medication. The camera was of the old Polaroid’s, with the self-developing film. Two pictures were taken. They did not develop properly and the face not recognizable. It could have been me with a wig on. I mentioned it to the nurse and all she had to say was that it was good enough and allowed them to narrow the identification process to a dozen people or so. I did not find that very comforting.

After all the questions, and paperwork signing, my friend was asked to stand up for a pat-down search. So here is my friend, in a fishbowl being patted down with a half dozen or so people looking on. She is standing up with her legs spread and her arms out parallel from her body. The male patients were watching intently. My friend was aware they were watching. No one made them move on.

With all the intake process completed, the nurse showed my friend where her room was.

I continued to stay with my friend for support. We walked around on the floor where other patients were wondering around, male and female alike. The males who had been watching the intake process were staring at my friend. These were not casual glances. They were intimidating stares that in any workplace would be grounds for sexual harassment. Staff were walking around but did not seem to notice. I went to get my friend pizza. As soon as I left, two of the men started making passes at her. One sat down next to her and called her “honey.” This behavior continued every day in one form or another. I mentioned it at least three times to staff and nothing was done to stop it. My friend had also mentioned it. Acadia Hospital did not act to stop it.

My friend called me today at 1:30 p.m. to tell me she was not feeling well and was scared. She let staff know and they took her blood pressure. It was very low. The nurse told her to drink lots of fluids. No one offered to get her and my friend was too dizzy to stand by herself. She was left unattended in a room by herself. I called the nurse’s station and told them I was on my way up and that someone better be in her room checking on her by the time arrived. By the time I got up to the floor where my friend is, there were two staff members attending to her. They were doing what they should have done in the first place.

My friend called me again around 6:30 p.m. She had not been given something for her stomach pain which was ordered around 2 p.m. Someone was also supposed to look at an infected sore on her stomach today. That had not taken place either.

I called the nurse’s station to see what was going on. Whoever I talked to said that she would not discuss it with me. My friend feels the staff at Acadia does not care about her. I can’t imagine why.

David Winslow lives in Brewer.