XV
A few hours later, without having witnessed anything of particular
significance, except as it befell myself, I was transferred to my old
ward. The superintendent, who had ordered this rehabilitation, soon
appeared, and he and I had a satisfactory talk. He gave me to
understand that he himself would in future look after my case, as he
realized that his assistant lacked the requisite tact and judgment to
cope with one of my temperament—and with that, my desire to telephone
my conservator vanished.
Now no physician would like to have his wings clipped by a patient,
even indirectly, and without doubt the man's pride was piqued as his
incompetence was thus made plain. Thereafter, when he passed through
the ward, he and I had frequent tilts. Not only did I lose no
opportunity to belittle him in the presence of attendants and patients,
but I even created such opportunities; so that before long he tried to
avoid me whenever possible. But it seldom was possible. One of my chief
amusements consisted in what were really one-sided interviews with him.
Occasionally he was so unwise as to stand his ground for several
minutes, and his arguments on such occasions served only to keep my
temper at a vituperative heat. If there were any epithets which I
failed to apply to him during the succeeding weeks of my association
with him, they must have been coined since. The uncanny admixture of
sanity displayed by me, despite my insane condition, was something this
doctor could not comprehend. Remarks of mine, which he should have
discounted or ignored, rankled as the insults of a sane and free man
would have done. And his blunt and indiscriminate refusal of most of my
requests prolonged my period of mental excitement.
After my return to my old ward I remained there for a period of three
weeks. At that time I was a very self-centered individual. My large and
varied assortment of delusions of grandeur made everything seem
possible. There were few problems I hesitated to attack. With
sufficient provocation I even attacked attendants—problems in
themselves; but such fights as I subsequently engaged in were fights
either for my own rights or the rights of others. Though for a while I
got along fairly well with the attendants and as well as could be
expected with the assistant physician, it soon became evident that
these men felt that to know me more was to love me less. Owing to their
lack of capacity for the work required of them, I was able to cause
them endless annoyance. Many times a day I would tell the attendants
what to do and what not to do, and tell them what I should do if my
requests, suggestions, or orders were not immediately complied with.
For over one year they had seen me in a passive, almost speechless
condition, and they were, therefore, unable to understand my unwonted
aggressions. The threat that I would chastise them for any disobedience
of my orders they looked upon as a huge joke. So it was, until one day
I incontinently cracked that joke against the head of one of them.
It began in this wise: Early in October there was placed in the ward a
man whose abnormality for the most part consisted of an inordinate
thirst for liquor. He was over fifty years of age, well educated,
traveled, refined and of an artistic temperament. Congenial companions
were scarce where I was, and he and I were soon drawn together in
friendship. This man had been trapped into the institution by the
subterfuge of relatives. As is common in such cases, many "white" lies
had been resorted to in order to save trouble for all concerned—that
is, all except the patient. To be taken without notice from one's home
and by a deceitful, though under the circumstances perhaps justifiable
strategy, placed in a ward with fifteen other men, all exhibiting
insanity in varying degrees, is as heartbreaking an ordeal as one can
well imagine. Yet such was this man's experience. A free man one day,
he found himself deprived of his liberty the next, and branded with
what he considered an unbearable disgrace.
Mr. Blank (as I shall call him) was completely unnerved. As he was a
stranger in what I well knew was a strange world, I took him under my
protecting and commodious wing. I did all I could to cheer him up, and
tried to secure for him that consideration which to me seemed
indispensable to his well-being. Patients in his condition had never
been forced, when taking their exercise, to walk about the grounds with
the other patients. At no time during the preceding fourteen months had
I seen a newly committed patient forced to exercise against his will.
One who objected was invariably left in the ward, or his refusal was
reported to the doctor before further action was taken. No sane person
need stretch his imagination in order to realize how humiliating it
would be for this man to walk with a crowd which greatly resembled a
"chain gang." Two by two, under guard, these hostages of misfortune get
the only long walks their restricted liberty allows them. After the one
or two occasions when this man did walk with the gang, I was impressed
with the not wholly unreasonable thought that the physical exercise in
no way compensated for the mental distress which the sense of
humiliation and disgrace caused him to suffer. It was delightfully easy
for me to interfere in his behalf; and when he came to my room, wrought
up over the prospect of another such humiliation and weeping bitterly,
I assured him that he should take his exercise that day when I did. My
first move to accomplish the desired result was to approach, in a
friendly way, the attendant in charge, and ask him to permit my new
friend to walk about the grounds with me when next I went. He said he
would do nothing of the kind—that he intended to take this man when he
took the others. I said, "For over a year I have been in this ward and
so have you, and I have never yet seen a man in Mr. Blank's condition
forced to go out of doors."
"It makes no difference whether you have or not," said the attendant,
"he's going."
"Will you ask the doctor whether Mr. Blank can or cannot walk about the
grounds with my special attendant when I go?"
"No, I won't. Furthermore, it's none of your business."
"If you resort to physical force and attempt to take Mr. Blank with the
other patients, you'll wish you hadn't," I said, as I walked away.
At this threat the fellow scornfully laughed. To him it meant nothing.
He believed I could fight only with my tongue, and I confess that I
myself was in doubt as to my power of fighting otherwise.
Returning to my room, where Mr. Blank was in waiting, I supported his
drooping courage and again assured him that he should be spared the
dreaded ordeal. I ordered him to go to a certain room at the farther
end of the hall and there await developments—so that, should there be
a fight, the line of battle might be a long one. He obeyed. In a minute
or two the attendant was headed for that room. I followed closely at
his heels, still threatening to attack him if he dared so much as lay a
finger on my friend. Though I was not then aware of it, I was followed
by another patient, a man who, though a mental case, had his lucid
intervals and always a loyal heart. He seemed to realize that trouble
was brewing and that very likely I should need help. Once in the room,
the war of words was renewed, my sensitive and unnerved friend standing
by and anxiously looking on.
"I warn you once more," I said, "if you touch Mr. Blank, I'll punch you
so hard you'll wish you hadn't." The attendant's answer was an
immediate attempt to eject Mr. Blank from the room by force. Nothing
could be more automatic than my action at that time; indeed, to this
day I do not remember performing the act itself. What I remember is the
determination to perform it and the subsequent evidence of its having
been performed. At all events I had already made up my mind to do a
certain thing if the attendant did a certain thing. He did the one and
I did the other. Almost before he had touched Mr. Blank's person, my
right fist struck him with great force in, on, or about the left eye.
It was then that I became the object of the attendant's attention—but
not his undivided attention—for as he was choking me, my unsuspected
ally stepped up and paid the attendant a sincere compliment by likewise
choking him. In the scuffle I was forced to the floor. The attendant
had a grip upon my throat. My wardmate had a double grip upon the
attendant's throat. Thus was formed a chain with a weak, if not a
missing, link in the middle. Picture, if you will, an insane man being
choked by a supposedly sane one, and he in turn being choked by a
temporarily sane insane friend of the assaulted one, and you will have
Nemesis as nearly in a nutshell as any mere rhetorician has yet been
able to put her.
That I was well choked is proved by the fact that my throat bore the
crescent-shaped mark of my assailant's thumb nail. And I am inclined to
believe that my rescuer, who was a very powerful man, made a decided
impression on my assailant's throat. Had not the superintendent
opportunely appeared at that moment, the man might soon have lapsed
into unconsciousness, for I am sure my ally would never have released
him until he had released me. The moment the attendant with his one
good eye caught sight of the superintendent the scrimmage ended. This
was but natural, for it is against the code of honor generally
obtaining among attendants, that one should so far forget himself as to
abuse patients in the presence of sane and competent witnesses.
The choking which I had just received served only to limber my vocal
cords. I told the doctor all about the preliminary verbal skirmish and
the needlessness of the fight. The superintendent had graduated at Yale
over fifty years prior to my own graduation, and because of this common
interest and his consummate tact we got along well together. But his
friendly interest did not keep him from speaking his mind upon
occasion, as his words at this time proved. "You don't know," he said,
"how it grieves me to see you—a Yale man—act so like a rowdy."
"If fighting for the rights of a much older man, unable to protect his
own interests, is the act of a rowdy, I'm quite willing to be thought
one," was my reply.
Need I add that the attendant did not take Mr. Blank for a walk that
morning? Nor, so far as I know, was the latter ever forced again to
take his exercise against his will.
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