‘The unit seemed like a prison’: How my child was crushed by a healthcare system designed to help her

It grew clear to me in that crucial moment that the treatment facility where my teen was admitted had all the hallmarks of a prison.

She had had faith unquestioningly in the professionals. We had shared that confidence. Everything altered radically when she was moved from our area facility to the secured unit at the private institution.

As we prepared to leave, she stepped quietly toward the hospital van alongside me and her therapist, who gave her a tight hug before watching us leave.

The moment the vehicle door was unlocked at the destination facility, the grim building appeared formidable. We were received by staff who guided us up steps through series of locked doors, with each door closing firmly behind us as the attendant waited for secure engagement before accessing the following.

The ward was completely enclosed and without windows, with my eyes quickly straining from the blinding overhead lights. We were taken to a transparent area that staff nicknamed the “goldfish bowl”.

The Painful Separation

Her delicate fingers tightened in mine as they told me that I must go. When I objected that I didn’t assist with unpacking, they stated that “relatives are not allowed on the ward.”

After asking again, they permitted me a momentary visit to her room, but insisted I leave right away afterward, citing hospital regulations.

To this day, I awaken during the dark hours with my heart pounding heavily while revisiting that path through the common area to Ruth’s assigned space. The room contained only a single bed and plastic furniture, with windows that couldn’t open.

The instructions became faint as they explained about the continuous monitoring by different caregivers. I set her belongings on the floor, while Ruth sat frightened on the bed before I was led from the room.

Abruptly, I was confined beyond the locked entrances, grasping a document that informed I could visit my daughter for just a single session, only twice per week.

What did I allow to occur?

A Tragic Loss

{Our daughter, our child, passed away on February 14th, 2022 at 18.29 on the pediatric critical care ward at the hospital in the location. She was transferred urgently from Huntercombe hospital, an NHS commissioned but for-profit children’s mental health center, where she had been not prevented from fatal self-injury two days earlier.|Our beloved daughter lost her life on Valentine’s Day 2022 at 18:29 in the {pediatric intensive care unit|

Colleen Parker
Colleen Parker

A gaming enthusiast and industry analyst with over a decade of experience in casino entertainment and digital gaming trends.