FROM PARANOID SCHIZOPHRENIC TO BIPOLAR DISORDER
by
Gene Olson
Just three years back from Vietnam, my father asked “I would like you to come with me to see a psychiatrist.” As far as I was concerned, there was no way in heaven I should see a psychiatrist! But he was my father.
The visit was short. The psychiatrist asked me just two questions. I answered them. Thenfacing my father said “He needs to be hospitalized.” Thus began six years in and out of Psychiatric Hospitals from 1970 to 1976.
The first psychiatric hospital was private. Upon entering I refused a shot. No telling what might be in it. Checking out the Day Room, there was a teenage girl kneeling by the console TV. She had pulled her breast from her bra and was pushing it in the face of the TV weatherman. I thought to myself, “I probably don’t need to be in this Psychiatric Hospital. But this girl, this girl really needs to be here!”
Walking down the hallway, a man in a suit passed whispering, “There are cameras in here.” Great! More reasons to be paranoid. I must find those cameras!
Because of my bizarre behavior, I was tied to a wheel chair and given a shot. I woke up strapped to a gurney in the darkness of a locked ward. A patient lit a stick match in my face. This was my introduction to Mario, a patient from the Walla Walla State Prison with brain damage. Soon I was in a locked room in the locked ward. You can’t be more confined than that. Well, oh yes you can!
In the locked room meal time was the sound of a key, door slowly opening, an arm appearing holding a food tray, the arm would place the food tray slowly on a stand by the door. Quickly the arm would disappear, door shut, locked. In my loneliness, I thought, “I sure would like to know who owns that arm!”
I hadn’t seen my doctor since the first evaluation. That was days ago. The nurse came in my room and said the doctor would be by soon to see me. I decided to make a collage for him. Over the years I had made many collages, some quite good. I started tearing pieces of paper from a newspaper, words and headlines. The nurse wouldn’t give me a scissor or glue. I thought the collage was good. My doctor came into the locked room. I eagerly watched him survey my collage. He took a long time. I thought he liked it. Then he said, “You are sicker than I thought.” I was hoping for positive strokes!
Finally out of the locked room, I was left alone on the locked ward to walk a continuous path of no direction, contemplating why I was here. Soon money became scare. My older brother, a veteran serving before Vietnam , found out about the Seattle VA Medical Center. As a Vietnam Veteran, the hospital was sitting on Beacon Hill just waiting for me.
The 8th Floor at the VA Hospital was a staging area for new patients before going directly to the 7th Floor Psych Ward. The VA Psychiatrist evaluated me and then gave a physical. There was only one other veteran besides me on the 8th Floor. Nothing on his body was moving, not even his eyelashes! He looked like he should belong in a Wax Museum. We sat alone in the Day Room. No one said a word. He stared motionless, straight head. I wondered what was going through his mind. He probably felt the same towards me.
His wife came for a visit with a small girl. She talked to him as if a conversation was going on. But there was no conversation. Only silence. She left. He continued staring, waxed.
The morning was interrupted with screams and cries from the outer hallway. During the night her veteran husband pulled a small screen from the window and wiggled out eight floors to his death. I don’t know how he did it. He was determined. He wanted to escape. I thought maybe he was just hallucinating, thinking the small window was a door. Maybe he just wanted to escape all the crap that was twirling in his head. Well, he did escape.
I was immediately transferred to the 7th Floor. The 7th Floor was the Psych Ward, crowded with veterans. During the 70’s it seemed everyone was some sort of Schizophrenic. I was diagnosed as a Paranoid Schizophrenic. And Thorazine was the most popular drug. I think the Seattle VA Hospital got a good deal on Liquid Thorazine. All the veterans were getting it, three times a day, morning, noon and night. Some called Liquid Thorazine a “Chemical Lobotomy” , some called Liquid Thorazine a “Chemical Straightjacket.” I called Liquid Thorazine the “Devil’s Brew.” With Liquid Thorazine you turn into a “nothing“; no memories, no emotions, no body sensations, walking on eggs, mere existence.
One night after “bottoms up” with Liquid Thorazine, I walked down the hall towards the Day Room. I wasn’t walking very fast. . Then I heard the song “American Woman Stay
Away From Me!” Oh, I hated that song! You spend 2 years in Vietnam and come back to the States hearing “American woman stay away from me!” I sure didn’t want an American woman to stay away from me! I wanted her to stay right by my side! Ok, I married a Polish girl, but she was in Poland at the time. I hadn’t met her yet. After 27 years of marriage, she definitely is an American Woman! Slowly entering the Day Room, my first reaction was to pick up the stereo and throw it through the window. Seven floors down it wouldn’t have a chance! But that was impossible. I could barely move my arms.
Once released from the hospital, the VA Psychiatrist prescribed the Thorazine level way to high. I couldn’t sleep at night. In the morning I couldn’t get out of bed. I spent all day sitting in a recliner in a stupor, in nothingness Before long I was back on the 7th Floor. It was comfortable. Years would go by and the revolving doors of the VA Hospital kept swinging open.
Finally the right dose of thorazine was reached. I could live with it. Then I found no use for it. I stopped taking it.
Over six years now I was working as a Child Care Counselor at The Evergreen Heights Boys Home, Bothell WA and The Evergreen Park Boys Home, Arlington, WA. My parents were the founders and directors. On Memorial Day weekend I had three days off. Something unusual.
What should I do? Since I didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d be by myself. Having been born in Seattle, I never traveled to Canada. And I figured if Draft Dodgers could go to Canada, then Vietnam Veterans should be able go to Canada!
I learned many things in the Navy - especially how to drink beer, a lot of beer! Leaving
Bothell for the Canadian Border I had a nice cold six pack of beer by my side. Of course, I’d rather have had a hot woman by my side!
Halfway to the border I thought, “Hey, what is going on here?” I was out of beer. I needed another six pack.
I made it to the border with no problem. The Border Patrol asked, “Why do you want to enter Canada?” I replied, “Just visiting. I’ve never been to Canada.” The Border Patrol pointed, “See that building over there? You need to go over there.”
I turned over my driver’s license and waited and waited and waited.
Finally. The Border Patrol handed back my license and said, “You cannot enter Canada because you are too intoxicated.”
Blue lights flashing in the rearview mirror greeted me as I entered the Southbound I-5 freeway. The Blaine Police were waiting for me.
DRIVING UNDER INFLUENCE (DUI)
The Whatcom County Jail in Bellingham was nothing compared to a VA Psych Ward. Just a big dorm with bunk beds and magazines scattered all over. At least I could catch up on my magazine reading. Of course there were no girls.
After several weeks, since it was the Nation’s Bicentennial, maybe the judge felt he shouldn’t have a Vietnam Vet sitting in his jail. He said if I finished the Alcohol and Substance Abuse Program at American Lake, VA Medical Center, Tacoma,WA the fine would be forfeited. Before I knew it, I was on a bus heading for American Lake.
I had never been to American Lake. Some veterans six years ago on the Seattle VA Psych Ward said it was the worse place you could go.
As the bus pulled into the center it was beautiful! Tree lined street entrance, old Spanish American style buildings and there really was a lake at American Lake. But I knew I wouldn’t be water-skiing. It felt good to be out of jail. My mind was racing. At night I did not need sleep. Why sleep if you’re not tired ? I listened to “Songs In The Night” on the radio and kept up busy conversations with the staff, getting everyone‘s life history.
In the morning I sat across a small table with a VA psychiatrist, Dr. Sherman. In my mind I was shaking my head, “What is the VA doing to me now?” He reminded me of a kid just out of high school. But after talking for awhile, he impressed me with his intelligence and empathy. He had to be the brightest psychiatrist I’d met over the 6 years in the VA Medical System.
“ I would like you to come with me to Building 6. All the veterans there are from Seattle and King County.”
I agreed, not fully understanding what was taking place. Building 6 was a Psych Building.
I still could not sleep at night in Building 6. Not only because I was not tired, but I feared going to sleep, since I might not wake up. Consequently, I paced up and down the florescent lit hallway all night.
One night of pacing, I noticed a small sign in red letters on the wall, “Panic Button.”Each time I passed it, I wondered what would happen if I pushed it. Finally the curiosity got the best of me. I pushed it! An alarm sounded like a ship’s fog horn, only louder. An orderly came up and grabbed my arm. That was a mistake! Even though he was bigger, I was quicker. I wrapped my right arm around his neck, threw him to the floor and started punching his face with my fist. Soon, it seemed every orderly at American Lake was picking me up and dragging me to the Blue Room. This was a locked room with just one blue light bulb.
Still fighting and kicking, my ankles and wrists were leather tied in a spread eagle position. But that was not good enough for the VA. A tarp was tied over my body from my feet to my neck - tied tight. The ropes underneath the tarp were tied tight like a corset. I could only move my lips. And I did. I yelled and cursed all the psychiatrists I had met. Then I yelled and cursed all the politicians I knew.
I’m not sure how long I slept, but when I woke up the Head Nurse Sarah, was sitting next to me. She held a cup of orange juice with a straw. It was cold and felt oh so good. Then the nurse lit up a cigarette. She gently placed it in my mouth. We shared a smoke. She truly was an angel. Angels can smoke. She was the only one to visit.
When the restraints were removed, I still was confined to the locked Blue Room. Later I was released.
My “angel” nurse Sarah took me outside for a short walk. She gave me support. The sun and air made my face feel fresh, alive. After confinement all my senses were heightened. There was a rosebush. I smelled a rose, oh sweet fragrance! I touched it. I squeezed the stem hard. The thorns pricked my hand and there was soft pain. I was alive!
Sarah looked and said, “You are a remarkable person, Gene.”
I didn’t feel remarkable. But I could feel thorns.
This is my imagination with the medical staff. “The Seattle VA says Olson is a Paranoid Schizophrenic. But we know he’s bipolar. Let’s start him on lithium.”
I called her “The Blood Lady.” In the morning, down the hall she came. Always with her basket filled with syringes and tourniquets. Not speaking, she just came for my blood. I would give all she wanted. The ritual continue for many mornings until a blue streak appeared on my arm. It was paralyzed. “The Blood Lady” stopped coming.
The lithium made a dramatic change in my life. Racing thoughts slowed down. My mind clearer. It was as if God reached down and washed my mind with lithium.
Five months at American Lake. Five months during the summer of the nations Bicentennial, 1976. Five months from wild to mild. Five months to discover I was not Paranoid Schizophrenic, but Manic Depressive, or in the modern world Bipolar Disorder. Five months with lithium and a new outlook on life.
And now, 34 years later, I take my lithium religiously. My outlook has never been better. God sent me an Angel from Poland to be my wife and my personal physician as a Dr. of Internal Medicine. I thank God for reaching down and washing me.
Yes, for 34 years God has given me the gift of lithium. And what a gift it is!
