The Arizona State Hospital and

Patient Abuse.

THE FOLLOWING IS A BASIC RERUN/REWRITE OF MY FIRST
ARTICLE, ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON APRIL 02, 2012, LESS THAN TWO MONTHS FOLLOWING MY FEB. 21 DISCHARGE FROM THE ARIZONA STATE HOSPITAL.

           Hello. My name is PJ Reed. (photo Flagstaff, AZ, Feb. 2012 [10 days after my discharge from the Arizona State Hospital] )

paoloreed@gmail.com 

I have little to fall upon in trying to introduce this blog beyond my immediate past history. But I will state here and now, that this is about the radically dismal state of affairs at the Arizona State Hospital, where doctors, nurses and technicians alike act in unison on a daily basis in abusing the fundamental human rights of patients in a manner and to a degree that is undeniably beyond acceptability in this day in age; and Hospital administrators, as well as Arizona Department of Health Services representatives go out of their way to both distort the truth about this matter as well as effectively condone the misconduct via their egregious unwillingness to do anything about it. I very recently discharged from the Arizona State Hospital (ASH), and I attest to these things. My accounting of my experiences while at ASH is drawn from pure and straight forward, simple fact(s), and I am willing to publicize the very most private aspects of my life story as it stands today simply because the patient abuse at ASH has to stop. ASH administrative officers and clinical staff are currently working in clear complicity with state officials in order to allow ASH to operate at a level of sub-standard mental health care, and they are getting away with it. Somebody has to do something about it, bottom line, and this single reality is what compels me today to introduce this blog to the publics' eye.    

                       My story in relation to ASH began as follows:

In May, 2010, I awoke at approximately 9:30 a.m. from my fourth attempt to committ suicide on a hillside overlooking the west side of Tucson, Arizona (see photo Tucson Mt. Park, AZ, terrain). The early summer sun already had the temperature somewhere in the high 90s, and I was dehydrated and extremely tired after having ingested a full bottle of Ibuprofen and thre full 40 oz. bottles of cheap, high octane beer. I had about $13 in my pocket, and I had to make a choice of whether or not to walk back down into the city and re-up on my supplies in order to give it one last go (knowing for the first time that I should definitely should have purchased and used Tylenol PM, rather than trying to get a good deal by purchasing Ibuprofen, which had been on sale the previous day...Idiot!), or to go about looking into other options given my very limited circumstances. I had left all of my belongings behind (but for one large backpack of clothing that was stolen from me approximately 36 hours before by two guys at a bus stop), and beyond the dust in my nostrils and hair, I only the clothing on my back, in essence. 

     As I walked out of the cactus and brush filled desert hills, I was sick with dehydration and general weariness caused by the effect(s) of overdose; and it occurred to me that were I to re-up on my basic supplies, wiht the idea of another attempt in mind, I would have to turn right around and hoof it back up into the mountains, with the attendant realization to I simply wasn't up to it. So I pondered that option, and as I did, my thoughts were drawn to a conversation I had with a man in a bar, perhaps 6 weeks prior. It was, at the time, my favorite bar (see photo The Buffet Bar, 9th St., Tucson, AZ, circa 1934), and this man- a stranger- was at least 15 years older than I, an obvious long time alcoholic who had likely been well 'round the mountain and back in his own personal life. Over our beers, I informed the man that I was contemplating suicide, a statement I WAS willing to make because I sensed that he and I shared the same open-mindedness in terms of matters relating to life and death, a maturity of sorts that comes with the disease known as chronic alcoholism. And as expected, my drinking partner that day barely flinched when I told him this; after a moment of basic silence, he did ask, however, if I had ever sought professional help, in any capacity. 
     And while I had done that, in a fashion, on at least 3 occasions in my recent history, I realized while pondering my options in early May, 2012, that I had never sought such help in anything resembling sincere desire; instead, I had taken myself to hospital ERs while drunkenly awash in suicidal ideation, and therein admitted to staff that I was thinking these things; but each time, as soon as I sobered up, I decided I did need to be there. At which point I would leave, and before long fall back into my willful desire to die. Walking down form the hills that day, it occurred to me that perhaps I should heed that good man's most basic feedback, and at least try to do so in reasonably good fashion. Once I entered that process in good faith on my own part, and maintained my openness to the best of my ability with my Tucson area caregivers, I came to learn that I was needful and deserving of far more than I had ever comprehended, and made the decision to stick it out; knowing that I could, at virtually anytime, request to be discharged, and go back to my original intentions. And that was the beginning of 21 full months of hospitalization.
The reasonable treatment and related moral support offered me in those Tucson area mental heath facilities afforded me the associated willingness to trust my doctors, and as he possibility of referral and admission to the Arizona State Hospital became a reality, I made the very difficult decision to cooperate to the best of my ability. But I had no idea of what I was getting into.     

SUBSTANDARD MEDICAL-MENTAL HEALTH CARE AS A MATTER OF STANDARD PRACTICE

AND THEY ARE GETTING AWAY WITH IT.

     For I learned within a very short time following my admission to ASH, that patients there are routinely abused as a matter of standard practice, and it wasn't long before the abuse fell directly upon me. My story is one which I hope will expose the atrocious wrongdoing that occurs at ASH in a meaningful way, and I intend to share all aspects of my own experiences, including details relating to an ongoing legal process of investigation brought about by my efforts while still at ASH to establish meaningful oversight and accountability specific not only to abuse that I suffered, but also in terms of the Hospital's willingness to carry on its daily operations in direct defiance of common codes of decency and medical ethics.  ch, ASH is a public (health care) entity under federal and state law, and is subject to the principles and provisions of The Americans With Disabilities Act (ADA), The Hospital Information Portability and Protection Act (HIPPA), along with numerous other well established codes of standard and practice. I mention these specific legal standards because as a patient, client, and human being, I fully expected nothing more or less than reasonable medical care when I came to accept the idea that ASH was the place for me to be as a person affected by a serious mental illness, needing as I did then, formal in-patient care and treatment consistent with what mental health care facilities are obligated to offer as per well established codes of practice and administrative operation.

A bit more history. 

     As stated already, immediately after that May, 2010 suicide attempt, I spent close to 8 months of treatment at several well operated short term facilities in Tucson; at which time I was then referred to Arizona's sole long term public mental hospital, The Arizona State Hospital. This reference was negotiated via a cooperative civil commitment that I agreed to after long and thoughtful conferencing on the matter with the good doctors at the University of Arizona Medical Center South Campus (formerly Kino-UPH Hospital). It need be said that those first eight months of treatment in Tucson area facilities was not always pleasant, nor free of shortfalls specific to issues that relate to my feelings about The Arizona State Hospital. But this is to be expected, in certain terms, for no residential mental health facility is entirely free of conflict, including in terms of staff behavior and possible misconduct. But I also attest to the fact that at ASH, I encountered conditions so dismally below par in terms of my well learned understand of established health care standards, that there is no comparison, in fact. Going from the the Tucson area hospitals to Arizona's sole long term public mental hospital (ASH, in Phoenix) was very akin leaving the contemporary society that I had lived in for the prior 49 years of my life, and entering a realm inhabited by authorities who exhibit little to no understanding of health care ethics, state/federal law and policy, or commonly recognized civility. 
     At the time of my admission to ASH, I was experiencing chronic and ongoing suicidal ideation(s) in direct association with my primary diagnosis of major depression, and as stated above, it was only through a process of mutual trust and good faith planning that any member of my Tucson treatment planning team (including myself) came to consider sending me to ASH with my mental health care needs in mind. I approached the whole concept with an understandable air of trepidation and concern over the conditions at ASH, simply because it is a full blown insane asylum, and I had personally never undergone any sort of planned long term treatment in such a setting (my first meeting of any kind with a psychiatrist occurred in spring, 2010). None of us imagined the sorts of things that I would come to experience at ASH, and I owe my care givers in Tucson nothing short of absolute appreciation, because it is the covert malfeasance of ASH clinicians and administrators that are of issue in this story, and not the well founded expectations of my Tucson doctors, who reasonably presumed that ASH was up to the task of functioning in a manner consistent with the functions of any modern hospital.   
     Indeed, none of us could have imagined that over a period 13 months I would come to witness and experience systematic and overtly sanctioned abuse that would, in time, lead me to become an inadvertently dedicated advocate for the rights and wellbeing of all persons associated with ASH, from the patients and their families, as well to the many good people who do, in fact, work at ASH. As stated already, patient abuse at the Arizona State hospital has to stop, and something has to be done to bring this about. This is the purpose of my blog, and I invite anybody of like mind to come aboard, for I can certainly use the support. None of the accounts that I intend to report in this blog are of bad faith intent, and all/any data that I include is factual and truthful to the best of my knowledge.

(photo Santa Fe, NM, July, 2013)

paoloreed@gmail.com