In response to your thoughtful note: On occasion those Truths (little acts of kindness, etc) return to the present moment.
in the 1970s I was a Licensed Psychiatric Technician working on an admissions unit at Imola State Hospital in Northern California. Reagan was governor and had cut funding to the mental health-care system. Staff was short, admissions rose (many of them accused criminals being 'evaluated). We were 3 staff with 48 patients...one of them deeply imprinted in my memory.
He was an African-American approximately the same age as myself - wild-eyed, disheveled, with disjointed speech and an agitated demeanor and generally repulsive. . Most staff and patients walked a wide circle around him out of a generalized prejudice and fear. I was his medication nurse and I made the determination that I wouldn't herd him to the medicaion room with the others, but use that as a contact point. I invited him to sit down with me, spend 15 minutes ACTIVELY listening to his disjointed, paranoid ideation; give him his meds and wish him a fine day...for 30 days.
Many years later - 30 years-plus - I was at dinner with my friend, Father Pat, at a high-end restaurant in San Francisco. As I was intensely debating an issue with Pat, I noticed a well-dressed, 'professional" looking African American gentleman approachingus. He excused himself for 'interrupting" and said, "You're Ron, aren't you?" I was taken aback!
"You most likely don't remember me, but many years ago, I was in the throes of Schizophrenia, undiagnosed.
I was frignhtening and really crazy, and you were the only person who ever listened to me - listened as if I made sense. I've never forgotten that and have always wanted to thank you."
Ronald
in the 1970s I was a Licensed Psychiatric Technician working on an admissions unit at Imola State Hospital in Northern California. Reagan was governor and had cut funding to the mental health-care system. Staff was short, admissions rose (many of them accused criminals being 'evaluated). We were 3 staff with 48 patients...one of them deeply imprinted in my memory.
He was an African-American approximately the same age as myself - wild-eyed, disheveled, with disjointed speech and an agitated demeanor and generally repulsive. . Most staff and patients walked a wide circle around him out of a generalized prejudice and fear. I was his medication nurse and I made the determination that I wouldn't herd him to the medicaion room with the others, but use that as a contact point. I invited him to sit down with me, spend 15 minutes ACTIVELY listening to his disjointed, paranoid ideation; give him his meds and wish him a fine day...for 30 days.
Many years later - 30 years-plus - I was at dinner with my friend, Father Pat, at a high-end restaurant in San Francisco. As I was intensely debating an issue with Pat, I noticed a well-dressed, 'professional" looking African American gentleman approachingus. He excused himself for 'interrupting" and said, "You're Ron, aren't you?" I was taken aback!
"You most likely don't remember me, but many years ago, I was in the throes of Schizophrenia, undiagnosed.
I was frignhtening and really crazy, and you were the only person who ever listened to me - listened as if I made sense. I've never forgotten that and have always wanted to thank you."
Ronald
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