diving in units for difficult patients

2024-01-15 19:00:02

Good leaves. With the exception of a few files on the table, nothing has changed in the office of the head doctor of the unit for difficult patients (UMD) in Albi. On a shelf, I recognize the work that a patient gave him: a “self-portrait of Van Gogh” signed Picasso [surnom d’un patient].

I never saw the lower part of Doctor Racine’s face, any more than he saw mine. We got to know each other during the coronavirus era. Despite our shyness, we established a relationship of trust. (…)

“If you want to write a book about unity, no problemDoctor Racine tells me. You can come whenever you want. The rules are the same. Do not ask patients’ names or ask them about their history. »

He stands up, politely indicating that the interview is over. The prospect of being released so quickly among the residents intimidates me. I’m trying to save time.

“Like last time, can I talk to all the patients?”

With those who agree, yes. We will inform you. Avoid making promises, it’s important. Most patients have serious emotional deficiencies…”

The chief doctor’s viaticum seems very succinct to me for dealing with his residents. Three quarters of them committed homicides or attempted homicides. A particularly high proportion if we compare it to that of other units for difficult patients.

I am given a drop-shaped electronic badge to open the doors, as well as a “lone worker alert device” (DATI). This small black box allows staff to communicate within the establishment. If the device remains lying down for more than fifteen seconds – which often happens in the event of an attack – an alarm is triggered. In the absence of danger, you must take care to keep your DATI vertical. With this housing and the “drop” I can move freely throughout the unit.

The spaces here are so compartmentalized that most of the residents have given up on the idea of ​​escaping. Around ten doors separate their room from the “outside world”, in this case a piece of countryside on the outskirts of Albi.

A receptionist escorts me to wing A, where I only had a brief visit during my previous visit. This is the area that houses the Congolese patient that I am trying to identify. THE “crazy alpha” which Claude B. told me about. To respect the anonymity required by Doctor Racine, I attribute to him the pseudonym given to him in the unit: Hamlet.

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