Setting the Stage

When I was twenty-two I worked as an aide at a Psychiatric Hospital in Maryland. My job was to spend time with the patients, playing games, taking them for walks, and making sure they were on time to their therapy sessions.

 

It was a statuesque old hospital with formidable stone buildings and sprawling green lawns. It had a spooky vibe about it, but that could have been just the way it seemed to me. After all I knew what went on inside.

 

I really enjoyed working there, it was challenging and educational but I noticed that some of the staff seemed rather cold-hearted. When I got one female patient to play the piano, something she had not done for months, I didn’t get the response I thought I would. The head nurse actually seemed annoyed. She told me it wasn’t necessary.

 

There were many teenagers staying in the hospital. Many Jews as a matter of fact. And it was a very expensive institution. Forty years ago, it ran about forty thousand dollars a year per patient. Maybe they didn’t really want them to get well.

 

One night a fifteen-year-old boy named Kevin escaped. He called me the next day to see if I wanted to go to the movies. He was determined to see the film One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest starring Jack Nicholson about a revolt that took place in a mental hospital. I refused (although it was tempting) and called the hospital to inform them that Kevin was safe and planning to catch a movie. He had told me to tell them he would be back later that day.

 

Instead of being happy to hear he was okay, they were furious that he had contacted me. I was a little put out; it wasn’t my fault he had called. I hadn’t given him my number. How he got it I don’t know but Kevin was a clever boy. He had managed to climb out of a window using bed sheets. And he did keep his word, he was back within a few hours.

 

I had a very good friend from college who worked there as well. She didn’t like the things that went on in that hospital. There were some very primitive disciplinary techniques she thought were barbaric. Many years later the hospital was involved in a huge scandal because of those same techniques.

 

Nevertheless I really loved that job and came to love the patients, although there were some scary ones. Once, a young woman got mad and threw a cup of hot coffee at me. Luckily she missed but I made sure never to be alone with her again.

 

The day I lost that job was one of the worst days of my life. It happened because I was stupid. My friend and I had started keeping a journal about the things we noticed in the hospital that we felt were unacceptable, including the use of very strong drugs for sedation and wrapping patients who were upset in icy sheets that were kept in a special freezer. There was a lot of solitary confinement and electrical shock treatment was common. We hid the journal in a secret place in the hospital.

 

One evening my friend wrote in it and forgot to put it away. It was quickly discovered by one of the nurses. We were both immediately fired and I remember walking home shocked and broken. I berated myself for hours as I trudged along the streets. I was so mortified I couldn’t even drive.

 

It was one of the lowest points in my life. It had taken me years to earn the privilege of working at such a prestigious institution and now I had blown it. In addition to that I had just ended a relationship with someone very special but with whom I had no future. I was half-way through college and not enjoying it. I also felt uneasy living in my parents’ house but I couldn’t afford to move out. This was the final punch.

 

Never having prayed but having nothing to lose, a small hope poked through my heartache. “Please God, save me, please help me…save me…help me…” I repeated these words with every step I took although as far as I was concerned my life was at a dead end and I was going nowhere.

 

In reality, Hashem was already packing my bags. A month later I was introduced to a Rabbi who had come from Israel to raise funds for his school in Jerusalem.

 

We spoke for an hour and I bought a ticket soon after. And the rest is happy history.

 

I have seen how life can turn around for the better. Your lowest point may just be the thorn before the balm.

 

How great are the wonders of Hashem and how much He loves us! He is our personal first responder, our very own search and rescue device. Your despair is never your destiny. He’s got your life in His plans.