3. Claw your way out (Tobirama)

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Patient name: Tobirama Senju

Date of birth: 25/04/1995

Journal entry: 23/11/2022, admittance journal entry

Past medical history: Nothing in journal. Otherwise unknown.

Currently: Patient arrives yesterday escorted by two police officers. Two guards arrive shortly after. Found at the edge of the Thomson bridge by passing bicyclist who contacted police. According to police the patient jumped but was grabbed by one of them before he fell. Upon arrival to the ward extreme agitation, screams incomprehensible sounds, has kicked and beaten the police. Not possible to establish any form of contact with patient. Decision take to take patient in under the Compulsory Psychiatric Care Act as he is deemed unable to make any informed decisions about his own healthcare. Haloperidol injection deemed necessary for protection of staff and patient himself. Rapid effect. Alcohol in blood 3,2 per mille. Negative drug tests in blood and saliva. Low pulse and blood pressure, consult medicine doctor who recommends intravenous fluids. Connected at 2 am, disconnected at 6 am after 500 ml when patient wakes up for a short time and pulls the needle out of his arm in panic, not possible to put needle back due to agitation. Consult medicine doctor who confirms we may wait and observe what happens. Blood pressure and pulse stabilised. ECG normal. Patient still sleeping, not possible to wake him up.

Psychiatric status: Clean exterior but clothes covered in blood, no formal or emotional contact, screams incomprehensible sounds, not oriented to time, place or person, violent. No signs of current or previous self-harm.

Planning: Contact with medicine doctor if patient has not woken up by evening. Oxygenation and pulse continuously. Blood pressure x24. Attempt at conversation when patient wakes up.





It was unbearable.

It was like a black hole created in the pit of my stomach that did not use light as its driving force but realisation; the more I realised what had happened, the bigger that black hole got.

The more I realised what had not happened, the bigger the black hole got.

And when it dawned on me full-force that I was in hospital, not dead but very, very much alive, my soul clawed its way out of my body and went clambering into the corner, watching me from there, without my body to keep it company.

I saw myself, my white hair, whitened way too early, my dry skin, my tall legs, my strong shoulders. I saw myself open my mouth, and as I told my mouth to scream it obeyed, omitting a horrible sound that churned my insides, crushed my inner organs to pieces.

Sad. I was so, so sad to be alive. So, so disappointed to not have succeeded. I had done it. I had taken the step. Literally and figuratively, I had taken the step. But it had turned out to be just another part of my life where I hadn't succeeded.

Just as I hadn't succeeded in getting better.

The scream turned into a desperate crying. A nurse walked into my room, walked to me to comfort me, but another nurse came in directly after, stopped the first nurse.

"He's dangerous."

Who was dangerous?

It took me a while to understand they were talking about me. I wasn't dangerous. I never had been. But apparently, I was.

"We just have to wait it out. At least he's awake."

"About time. It's noon."

My soul, still clambering in the corner of the room, looked at my sad self, my sad body, so much duller than it used to be, as if someone had painted it grey with a semi-transparent paint. When did I allow myself to become this?

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