Bella

I studied psychiatric nursing at Metropolitan State Hospital, Norwalk, California. It was 1955 and new patients were kept in a locked ward where they were observed for several weeks before the psychiatrists decided what to do with them. A few were sent to an acute ward where they were treated by a psychiatrist. Most were sent to geriatric wards if they were old, or they were sent to a back ward where they were fed and bathed, but never given therapy.

Patients living on back wards were kept locked up and were never out of their hospital gowns except to take a shower. They wore white gowns, open in the back and tied with a string behind the neck and mid-back. They wore cloth slippers or went barefoot on the cement floors.

Attendants shaved the men with straight edged razors. Newly hired attendants learned to use the blades by practicing on old patients. I saw expressions of fear on the old men, and blood was a common sight during the shaving sessions. Patients were not allowed to have sharp instruments, belts or shoe strings because they might hurt themselves or hurt someone else. Men were segregated from women. Life was boring for patients. If they got well, nobody believed them when they told people they were well. A patient was more apt to be believed sane if he said he was mentally ill. People who went to a back ward could expect to stay there until they died.

My first month at Norwalk was spent in the acute admitting ward. I was a student male nurse and was required to work with patients who were assigned to me. It was my responsibility to bathe them, to bring them food and water, and to spoon feed them if needed.

Some of the patients acted normal, and some acted psychotic. Some of those who acted normal were being treated for alcohol or drug abuse. Mr. L. was one of my patients, and he seemed to enjoy talking to me. He was a soft spoken elderly gentleman. He was almost shy. He talked to me about drugs.

One day he said, "Twenty or thirty years ago, I received most of my drugs from my doctors. I have taken narcotics for many years. Drugs are expensive even when you get them by prescription at the druggist. It was only when I could not afford them that I suffered. Recently, when I was not able to afford drugs, the suffering became too much for me, and I had myself committed to this state hospital here in Norwalk. I am feeling much better now, but I can't leave until I get somebody to take responsibility for me. I'm broke."

Mr. B. was receiving mail from a beautiful young lady who wrote him love letters. He told me he had been a romantic leading man in the theater when he was young in Europe. "In America my roles were heavy character roles for which I became famous but not wealthy."

He did not think it unusual to be receiving romantic mail from women he had never met. He had been attractive to women all his life. He said, "This young lady who keeps writing me wants me to marry her. Perhaps I will."

Not too long after I finished my training at the mental institution, I learned that Mr. L. married the young lady. It was not long after that marriage that he passed away. The interesting part of this story is that Mr. L. was able to live such a long, healthy, productive life on drugs. He was in his early 70s when I met him, and died at the age of 73, which was shortly after his last wedding. He is still known as the most well known actor to play Dracula. Halloween masks are made in his image and his stage name was Bella Lugosi. People who knew him called him a gentle man.

I asked his psychiatrist why a drug addict like Bella Lugosi was so healthy. He said, "As long as the addict is able to purchase drugs, he may live a healthy life. It's when he is unable to obtain drugs that he gets in trouble. Many addicts steal, cheat and lie, or sell their bodies in order to pay for the drugs. We are not able to cure addicts. The drug problems in our society gets worse every year. Easy money is made by drug vendors who do it illegally. Many banks make most of their money by laundering drug money. Most of us who try to cure addicts feel our government should take the profit out of selling drugs by allowing people to have and sell addictive drugs to each other. If addicts were allowed to grow their own, marijuana would become too cheap to make a profit. Other addicting drugs could be produced dirt cheap, and sold to all who were stupid enough to become addicts. The crooks would get out of that business because there would be no easy money to earn."

I spent three months working and studying psychiatry at the state hospital in Norwalk. I met some fine doctors and some very poor ones. I recall one doctor who did spinal taps without observing sterile technique. He didn't even wear surgical gloves. While at the hospital, I served as a scrub nurse for a very good surgeon. The second time I worked with him he used me as an assistant. He didn't like to work with the doctor who usually assisted. I didn't ask why, but perhaps the other doctor caused infections. My adventures as a male nurse were wonderful. It is a fine profession for either sex, but I prefer practicing as a Physical Therapist.