I recall so clearly the moment it became clear that the mental health ward where my teenage daughter was being handled felt like little more than a detention center.
Ruth had been so trusting. So had we. That all changed the day she was moved from our community hospital to Thames Ward at Huntercombe hospital in the region.
During our leave-taking, she walked peacefully to the hospital vehicle with me and the child therapist, who squeezed her tightly before bidding farewell.
As the patient carrier entrance unlocked at our arrival point, the foreboding structure rose before us. We were greeted and led up a flight of steps through secured portals, with each door locking behind us as the staff member waited for every mechanism to secure before continuing.
We entered a fully enclosed space that was without natural illumination, with my eyes quickly hurting from the harsh overhead lighting. They guided us to a interior space that was surrounded by windows – what staff termed the “monitoring zone”.
The Painful Separation
Ruth’s hand grasped my fingers, 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 aren’t allowed on the ward.”
After pushing further, they allowed me a momentary visit to her room, but insisted I exit promptly afterward, citing facility policies.
Even now, I rise in the early hours with my heart beating rapidly as I remember walking through the communal zone to Ruth’s designated space. The basic amenities included a solitary bed and plastic table, with windows that were sealed.
The explanations grew distant as they told me about the constant observation by rotating staff. I put her bag on the surface, while Ruth sat frightened on the bed before I was ushered out.
Abruptly, I was sealed outside the secured doors, clutching a document that stated I could visit my daughter for just sixty minutes, only twice per week.
What have I let them do?
A Tragic Loss
{Our daughter, our child, died on Valentine’s Day 2022 at 18.29 on the children’s ICU at John Radcliffe hospital in the city. She was rushed there from the mental health facility, an government-contracted but privately run children’s mental health center, where she had been left to fatally self-harm two days earlier.|Our beloved daughter lost her life on the 14th of February, 2022 at 18:29 in the {pediatric intensive care unit|