‘The unit seemed like a prison’: How my child was devastated by a medical system designed to assist her

I recollect distinctly the moment it became clear that the mental health ward where my teenage daughter was being handled felt like little more than a secure facility.

She had believed fully in the medical staff. We had mirrored that belief. Everything shifted drastically when she was transferred from our community hospital to the secured unit at the private institution.

During our departure, she walked peacefully to the patient van with me and the play specialist, who squeezed her tightly before bidding farewell.

The moment the van portal was unlocked at the treatment center, the austere structure stood imposing. We were met by staff who led us up stairs through series of locked doors, with each door locking completely behind us as the staff member waited for proper closure before proceeding further.

The ward was completely enclosed and completely dark, with my eyes immediately suffering from the blinding overhead lights. We were guided to a window-lined room that staff referred to as the “observation post”.

The Heartbreaking Separation

Ruth’s hand slipped into mine, head down as they told me it was time for me to go. “But I didn’t get her comfortable into her room or introduced myself to caregivers yet,” was met with: “Parents must leave on the ward.”

When I asked again, they finally agreed a brief visit at her room but emphasized that I must exit promptly after, as per facility policy.

Even now, I rise in the early hours with my heart beating rapidly as I recall walking through the communal zone to Ruth’s designated space. The sparse furnishings included a single bed and synthetic surface, with windows that were sealed.

Their voices grew distant as they detailed how a rotating staff would watch Ruth every hour. I set down her belongings on the floor. Ruth remained positioned on the bed, visibly frightened, before I was ushered from the room.

Abruptly, I was confined beyond the double portals, clutching a document that informed I could visit my daughter for just one hour, only on two occasions each week.

What have I allowed to happen?

A Devastating Outcome

{Our daughter, our girl, passed away on 14 February 2022 at 18.29 on the pediatric critical care ward at the medical facility in the location. She was rushed there from the mental health facility, an publicly funded but commercially operated children’s mental health center, where she had been not prevented from fatal self-injury previously.|Our child died on February 14, 2022 at 6:29 PM in the {pediatric intensive care unit|