‘The ward seemed like a prison’: The way my child was broken by a healthcare system intended to help her

It became apparent to me in that pivotal moment that the psychiatric ward where my child was admitted had all the hallmarks of a jail.

She had believed completely in the professionals. We had shared that belief. Everything shifted drastically when she was transferred from our community hospital to the locked ward at Huntercombe hospital.

When we said goodbye, she walked so easily down to the patient transport with me and the therapeutic specialist – who embraced her warmly and said goodbye.

The moment the vehicle door opened at the new location, the austere structure loomed large. We were met by staff who guided us up a staircase through multiple secured entries, with each door closing firmly behind us as the staff member waited for proper closure before proceeding further.

The facility was completely enclosed and without windows, with my eyes immediately suffering from the blinding overhead lights. We were guided to a transparent area that staff referred to as the “goldfish bowl”.

The Heartbreaking Separation

I felt her fingers hold my hand as they informed my leaving was required. My question about not meeting staff was answered with the regulation that “family must leave the treatment area.”

After pushing further, they allowed me a quick viewing to her room, but required I exit promptly afterward, citing hospital regulations.

To this day, I wake up during the dark hours with my heart beating fast while revisiting that journey through the communal zone to Ruth’s designated room. The space contained only a single bed and plastic furniture, with fixed glass.

The voices faded away as they explained about the constant observation by rotating staff. I set her belongings on the ground, while Ruth sat terrified on the bed before I was escorted away.

Suddenly, I found myself trapped beyond those double doors, clutching a piece of paper that told me I could spend time with my child for a single hour, two times weekly.

How could I have allowed to this?

A Life Cut Short

{Our daughter, our child, died on 14 February 2022 at 18.29 on the pediatric critical care ward at the medical facility in the location. She was taken immediately from the mental health facility, an NHS commissioned but for-profit youth psychiatric facility, where she had been not prevented from fatal self-injury two days earlier.|Our child died on the 14th of February, 2022 at evening in the {pediatric intensive care unit|

Cassandra Miller
Cassandra Miller

A seasoned business strategist with over 15 years of experience in corporate consulting and resource optimization.