Institute Not of Technology
Institute not of Technology
In the early 1990s I spent some time at the Institute not of Technology which was the Brandon Mental Health Centre or commonly known as the funny farm - insane asylum. I do not hide the fact I was there and usually joke about my stay. I tell everyone that I lost my muscles not my mind that is how I got admitted in the first place. The stay at the Institute increased my mind power because I had to become smarter to be able to gain my freedom. I blame the 2 women in my life at the time which was the wife and mother for things turning very bad for me which I will tell in this story. As I write this detailed story it is so others understand how powerful the spoken word is by 2 women. These 2 women almost cost me my freedom and most likely would have made me a long term resident of the Institute. I was able to take back control of my life that was destroyed by these 2 women and almost 30 years later I’m writing it for others to learn and understand. I do hold no hard feelings or grudges to the cops who beat me or the nurses on the ward that did the same. These people were only acting on the information given on the reports and files that these 2 women mislead everyone. Another thing that must be understood is the mental health system is set up for people who have lost their mind or have no mind to start with. I was in the system with a fully functioning mind and knew what was going on. With this I was able to get back the control of my life.
In early August I was starting to lose my muscles and getting weaker and nobody knew why. I had lots of doctor visits and by the time I had entered the Institute I was 6’3” and weighing about 70lbs and could not climb a set of stairs. From my understanding I had chemical poisoning from the chemicals that I worked with at my job. To flush the chemicals out of my system, a short stay in the Institute was all that was needed. They could not do this a regular hospital because I was really not a sick person. This is also where the 2 women are telling the doctors what they wanted the doctors to know not what I needed. Arriving at the Institute is just like in the horror films with big huge building and when the door opens there are the male nurses to take you away which they did. It is a good thing the male nurses came to welcome me to the Institute because they grabbed my arms and carried me up the 3 flights of stairs to the 3rd floor ward. I was too week to climb the stairs. Plus the building was built in 1912 and the floors and not close together because each floor has a high ceiling. Now I am on the 3rd floor ward which is not like my chair, my bed and my home where I have been sick for a month. That is when I realized I’m in the funny farm – insane asylum because everyone on the 3rd floor come over to say hello to the new guy. These people were all nuts and mentally not all there. Once again it was like a horror film but this time I’m starring in it. It did not take long for the male nurses to come and get a blood sample which went to the lab right away so they can figure out which drug cocktail they will be giving me.
I get shown my new room which is a big open room that I share with 7 other nut cases or later on called comrades because we are all in this together. Before supper time the male nurses found me and came with a glass of water and a little cup with a bunch of pills in it. I asked what they were and they said to make me better. Only problem is I can not take pills because my body does not like any drugs. I had major problems growing up with the doctor giving me a prescription that made me sicker then the sick I already had. I told the male nurses thank you but I can’t take drugs they will make me sicker. With that they turned around and walked away. I thought nothing of it because I know my rights as a Canadian citizen. The male nurses return but their numbers have now doubled to 4 of them for one skinny little weak me at 70lbs. That is when I first learn what happens when you say “no” in the Institute. I was on the floor in no time getting a needle in my ass. Then the nurses just leave on the floor and walk away. That surprised me and more like shocked me as a Canadian citizen having rights. It did not take long for the nut cases on the ward to come over and help me up off the floor. That is when I knew I was in a different world and these were my comrades like in a communist country because we have no rights in the Institute.
Supper was called and we all line up to get in to the food room. It is not a kitchen or cafeteria because it is only for serving food. The food comes up from the main kitchen in the basement which is a long delay. The food they serve is in rubber form from being cooked and reheated again and again. I thought it was not too bad and ate it because I knew there would be no other food to eat. Of course at the supper meal one of the comrades loses it and has a big freak out with dishes and food trays going every where. The male nurses lock the door so we can not escape and we just stand out of the way as it is 6 male nurses against one comrade freaking out. If the belt restraints can not be put on the comrade then the big needle is brought in to inject the control drug which basically knocks the comrade out. The male nurses drag the comrade out and we are all quiet in the food room. After a lock down we are search as we leave the food room because the nurses know some comrades have pocketed or hid the metal cutlery. We are all wearing street clothes not hospital uniforms which give us some sort of pride. The male nurses search the males for hidden objects and the female nurses search the females since 3rd floor ward was co-ed. It is not a nice feeling have a male nurse grab your male privates looking for hidden objects. Because I have always enjoyed the female body for pleasure and I’m not gay in any way.
Now that we are all out of the food room we all hang out down in the recreation area which basically has everything anchored to the floor so it can not be used as a weapon. As I sit there watching the comrades and all their different habits or personalities some comrades have many personalities. I think to myself that I really do not belong here. I decided to walk down to the main nurse’s station and discuss this as a Canadian citizen who has rights. When I arrived at the nurses station I talk with the head nurse who is a woman and explain to her that there seems to be a mistake because this is not really where I belong. Told the head nurse I lost my muscles not my mind and I should be in a regular hospital not the funny farm-insane asylum. That made her eyes very big because I just made myself a high risk for escaping which mean more eyes will be watching me. As we talk as normal people one on one that is when the needle they stuck in my ass with the drugs kicked in. I had a muscle spasm which surprised me. The head nurse knew what was happening and called the other male nurses. As the male nurses gather around me as if I’m going to make a run for is I had another muscle spasm which made me fall on the floor. I started flipping all over the floor and the male nurses were all over me trying to control me. At 70lbs in weight a 90 year old grandma could have sat on me to control me but the male nurses are trained for real life nut cases.
Just like in the movies they tossed me in to the padded room where I got to bounce around all by myself until the drugs wore off. There was a window in the padded door and the nurses would look in to see how you were doing. It seemed once you stopped bouncing around in the padded room they would open the door and come in and look at you on the floor then pull your pants down and give you a needle in the ass. The one male nurse always pulled your pants but up nice and high on your ass to give you a wedgie with your underwear in the crack of your ass. When you can not move or do anything the wedgie is very uncomfortable. When they let you out of the padded room you have no idea what day it is what time it is and your mouth is so dry from the boiler steam heat in the building. It was so dry that you just splashed water on your lips and mouth as if you were in the Mojave Desert for a week. The comrades come over once you are released and to give the updates on which nut case lost it or got taken away.
The first month in the Institute was a learning experience because as a patient I have no rights or freedoms. Plus the nurses and doctors were having trouble figuring out the drugs for me because of all the re-actions I was having. They thought by the way I dressed and looked I was used a lot of the illegal drugs and my body is used to drugs which is the opposite for me. The least amount of drugs works not more. If they went to give me drugs it was usually double the recommended amount then add 30 more for good measures because my body is suppose to be used to drugs because illegal drug use. I was gaining body weight from all the rubber form food they made us eat. The bed time snacks were prepared before the kitchen in the basement closed. The snack were dried out and very tough to eat. We had to soak the snacks down in milk to make them soft to be eaten. The nurses were figuring out I still had my mind and I was very smart compared to my comrades. The problems the drugs were giving me made the doctors and nurses look at old medical journals to read up on the 1 in 10 million chance of this side effect of the drug. The head female nurse would read and show me the medical journal that she found some of my side effects in. But little did she know as she let me read the journals as she held if for me to read because I was in the straight jacket. That I was memorizing the information. I have a photographic memory so what I see I can read read later in great details. The only problem with medical journals is they always have a referral to another journal or paper by some other doctor who did the study. To get that next book meant the nurse had to put in a request for the book from the library which was almost a 2 day wait. But I could remember in great details the articles so it was easy for me to chat with the nurses on the side effects.
The only way to tell the days of the week in the Institute was by the food we ate. Wednesdays was always Lasagna which was in rubber form too. If I was in the padded room or solitary confinement or in the hospital ward then my comrades would tell me I missed 2 Lasagnas which means 2 weeks. Every Friday morning before breakfast was served, the electric shock treatment was preformed. We would all wait outside the food room to be opened but it was never opened before the electric shock treatment started. This was to control the comrades who would try and hide in the food room to miss the shock treatment. Being a welder by trade and getting lots of electrical shocks from wet gloves or being wet while welding I did not mind the electric shock treatment. I always told them to crank it up and do not hold back to make it last a long as possible. Of course we all screamed which could be heard through the ward. Then once your turn was over your whole body is tingling and you have to walk to the food room which was now open. Your hair is now all frizzy and it will be like that all day. Trying to eat breakfast with your whole body tingling is great fun. Then we would all look up at the next comrade who finished the electric shock treatment come in the food room. Their hair was just all frizzy and they have a stunned look on their face.
With the electric shock treatment and the physical control by the male nurses made me realize that the drugs they were giving me made me feel no pain. If the male nurses come looking for you because you did not swallow the drug pills it was best to stand up and put your arms out to the side. If you were sitting on the furniture then they got extra rough and the furniture got wrecked then everyone is mad because less to sit on. A few nut cases destroyed a few pieces of furniture when the male nurses came to get them. Standing up with arms our to the side show no intent in confrontation but they always did the take down by the training they received. Hit to the stomach then kick the feet out and bounce your face off the concrete floor. Then all male nurse on top of me, pull my pants down to expose my ass to stab the needle in. Then as the male nurses get off me my pants are pulled pants back up nice and height so I have wedgie in the crack of my ass. You must lay in this position to show you are not aggressive as the male nurses walk away. In the mean time one of my comrades will have gone to the bath room and got tissue to clean up my blood that is now pooling around my face. Once I got up off the floor and stopped bleeding which was usually from my nose because I had a big nose that stuck out. I tried not to do anything because they stabbed me with a full needle and the side effects of muscles spasms will kick in very shortly. I could feel the muscle spasm ready to start so I made sure I was away from anything and anybody. Once the muscle spasm started the male nurses would come back and gain control of me with the restraint belts plus stab a needle in my ass again. Then the male nurses would carry me like a piece of luggage and toss me in the padded room till the drugs wore off. If the nurses took the restraints off they were replaced by the straight jacket. I did not mind the straight jacket because it gave me something to do trying to escape from it. To escape from it, I could never dis-locate my shoulder to get turned in the straight jacket. The nurse would check in on me through the little window in the door and once they seen I was trying to escape they would come in a tighten the straps tighter and tighter but I didn’t feel a thing. The side of my face could be swollen right up from bounce off the concrete floor but I could not feel the pain. People ask how did you go to the bathroom in the straight jack. It was simple because you did not knock on the window and tell the nurse that you have to go to the bathroom because they would never take you. The drugs they gave you made you lose all control of bodily functions. When you were done your stay in the padded room and straight jacket they took to a wash area to hose you down. This cleaned everything including me.
In that first month I was figuring out the 2 women were not telling the doctor or the nurses the truth. The lies they were telling were making the drugs be increased not reduced plus my Canadian citizen rights were being taking away. I lost all signing authority and became a “ward of the state” meaning I’m a nobody. I could not sign my name for anything or had no driver’s license including no bank account. Not sure how this all happened because I lost my muscles not my mind. My mind became stronger because I had to learn more and more and figure things out. The one day (for less then 15 minutes) of the week when you got to see the real doctor. This doctor who has studied mental health bases all his assessment on what he quickly read in your file folder. If bad things are written in the file folder then more drugs were given. The doctor never really cared about me or ask me question so in the end I gave up even going to see him because it was all a waste of my time and the 2 women told the doctor what they wanted him to know.
With my strength getting better and I was getting tired of the communist life style I was living on the 3rd floor ward. They would not issues me a day pass or visiting pass because those were all taken away in the first month by the advice of the 2 women. Plus I was considered high risk to escape that means they watch my every movement but to be able to escape I have to become Harry Houdi by watching and learning the habits of the nurses. At shift change for the nurses most nurses would leave the 3rd floor ward by the fire exit located in the recreational area. There was a couch by the fire exit which I used to sit on and read books from the library to better myself. The nurses always double checked that the fire exit door had latch by doing a little tug on the handle they were holding. My library book fitted nicely inside the door handle that I’m sitting beside which gives a solid feeling when the test tug is done on the other side. My library book also keeps the door from latching. The other comrades watch out the window to the nurse’s parking lot to make sure they do no come back in case they forgot something. This is tricky to do because you have to keep track of the nurses on the floor and who is left and who is now on shift. The library book is used when the last nurse of that shift is gone. Then the new nurses coming on shift do a walk around to see all the comrades and check all doors.
I have a window of 5 minutes to be gone from the building which is easy to do. The building built in 1912 is cold and drafty so most of us wear our jackets to stay warm. Then next trick is to get on the city transit bus that is coming up the hill to drive on past the Institute. The bus driver knows who is escaping from the Institute and who works there so you have to act like a worker getting off the work shift. If you act like a nut case escapee, the bus driver turns the bus in to the Institute and goes to the back of the building and blows the horn. Then the security and nurses all go on the bus and drag the escapee off and back in to the Institute. I was very pleased with myself that I made it to the bus and acted normal getting on and sitting down. I rode the bus then did a bus interchange to arrive back at my house. I have no keys for the house because those along with my wallet and any other personal items have been taken away from me. I knock on the door of my house and 1 of my 4 kids answers and is happy to see me. All the kids rush to see me and I’m happy to be home except for the wife. She is pissed big time. I sit in my chair in my house enjoying the company of my kids and getting to see the last one born who has grown up so much as a baby. I do not pay attention to the wife but enjoy my kids. I was holding the baby and when I looked up there was 2 cops standing in front of me. I knew my visiting time was over and gentle hand the baby to the oldest kid to take. In the report, the statement given by the wife was I threw the baby across the room. As I stood up the 2 cops took me down right now in front kids with great force. I did not resist anything as they dragged me out of my house. Once outside they decided to beat me as a lesson for returning home to see my kids. The kids watched out the window. The cops hand cuffed my feet and hands behind my back then carry me like a suitcase to toss me in the back seat of the cop car. Of course the cops are not very gentle and make sure to smash my face and body in to everything along the way include the door of the cop car. That was the last time I was at my house or seen my kids.
When the cop car arrives back at the Institute, I am in the back seat and I can look out the window of the back door on the cop car to see my comrades looking out the 3rd floor ward windows down at me. There is always a delay when the cops brings an escapee back to the Institute because of paper work and the nurses have to get ready to accept the escapee. I just enjoy looking up at the comrades who have increased in number looking out the window and down at me because this is excitement on a boring night. When the cops return they drag me out of the back of the cop car and do not care if my face hits the ground or the car door because I am an escaped mental health patient. When they hand me over to the male nurses waiting for me to be brought in. The restraints are put on and the handcuffs are returned to the cops who leave. Now the male nurses teach me a lesson on escaping that will deter me from doing it again. The only problem is the drugs they have been given me let me feel no pain. The cops beating in front of my kids I felt nothing and I could concertate on looking at their faces in the window because that will be the last time I see them. The male nurses get me up on the 3rd floor ward and have to take me down the long hallway to the padded room which will be my new home for a while. All my comrades are lined up along the walls of the hall as the they drag me along. They are all smiling at me and I smile back at them because I had almost an hour of freedom. I get tossed in to the padded room and before they close the door they must stab a needle in my ass. Since I was a bad boy I get my pants and under wear pulled up extra high for the annoying wedgie. The last thing I can remember before I blacked out because of the drugs was the pool of blood my face was lining in. But I feel no pain from the abuse I received.
When I wake up and trying figure what has happened because they have me so drugged up it is unreal. Plus my mouth is so dry it feels like my tongue is no longer part of my mouth and it is stuck to the bottom of my mouth. I learned very quickly not too knock on the window or yell for a nurse when in the padded room. They have set time times to check on me and when they see I’m a wake. They will be in to see if I am a changed person. When they do finally come in they pour water in your mouth because wearing a straight jacket which you can not hold the glass myself for some reason. The water feels so good and it frees up my tongue which begins to work. The nurses are asking questions and telling me things. I learned quickly not to reply because it will be written in the file folder totally wrong. I getting taken out of the padded room and in the wash area to get the hose to clean myself up. They given me clean clothes by no jacket or shoes because I am now an escapee. When I return to my comrades on the 3rd floor ward they are all happy to see me. Of course they want to know what freedom was like and they tell me everything I missed because I have been gone for one Lasagna. Now the nurses watch me even more after the great escape plus they have increased the drug amounts which makes the muscles spasms uncontrollable at times. I did find out that the bus driver ratted me out because I had too many bruises on my face to be an employee of the Institute. The bus driver note which bus I did the interchanged with for me to get to my house. The cops were already on the way to see if I arrived when the wife called saying she and the kids were in “great danger” which was all lies.
The doctors and nurses were still having troubles with the drugs and side effects that they were giving me. But they also learned I still had my mind no matter how much drugs they gave me which was starting to puzzle them. The actions that the 2 women told in the reports were totally the opposite then what the nurses were seeing on the 3rd floor ward. There was no violence or aggressive action on my part. Someone decided that seeing the mental health doctor was going no where so I had to see a different doctor that dealt more with the mind and how it works. The different doctor was a lady and came to 3rd floor ward visit me. I though it was a total waste of time because the 2 women will keep telling the same lies. That is when it was officially confirmed that I was a “ward of the state” and the 2 women have nothing to do with me anymore because I’m officially a nobody. If I die and my dad does not claim my body then I will be buried in the cemetery behind the Institute. That is when reality set in for me and I had to take control of my life to get it back because I did not want to stay on the 3rd floor ward for the rest of my life.
The first visit with the new female doctor went alright but I never really say anything because it will only be used against me. Since the doctor visited the 3rd floor ward I only had one male attend the visit the doctor because other male nurse were on the floor in case they had to be called for help. Once my visits to the new doctor were at her office in another building on grounds of the Institute. Then I got my shoes and jacket back plus I had a male nurse escorted me but I was shackled so I could not escape. I did not mind the shackles because you walk slower and can enjoy the fresh air walking to the new doctor’s office in the other building. The visits to her office were nice because she had an excellent office with a great view. I could look at all the items in her office and study them well as we talked. The new doctor decided that I needed a brain scan which has to be done at the Brandon General Hospital this means a road trip for me. Getting to travel in to Brandon was a trip I was looking forward to because I have not traveled since my great escape. When a patient from the Institute travels to the Brandon General Hospital it is about the same as a criminal from the Brandon Corrections Centre but in unmarked van. The Brandon General Hospital has set times for Institute patients and corrections people to attend when they are not busy which usually early mornings.
The day came for me to travel for the brain scan and it was early morning so they gave me shoes and jacket back which was nice. Then I am fully shackled so I can not escape plus 2 male nurses and the driver of the van. As I am ready and stand by the 3rd floor ward nursing station, the one male nurse is getting a needle ready to travel in case I decide to become a bad boy. As I watch him pull the needle back to fill it up with the drugs I notice it is a lot more then the usual amount. That means it will knock me out faster because we are out in public. Being shackled it was hard to get in the van but the male nurses give me a lift in to the van and off we go. It is now full winter in Brandon and the city looks a lot different then when I entered the Institute. The drive to the Brandon General Hospital did not take long and they pull the van up to the rear delivery entrance of the hospital. There is a sheriff van parked there too and a fellow is getting out of it in full shackles like me. But he is a criminal and I’m just a nut case in theory. The sheriffs are in full uniforms with guns, hand cuffs and billy sticks to control the criminal that is shackled. The male nurses are dress in white pants and shirt and carry a plastic case with a needle in it to control me because I’m a nut case.
We follow the sheriffs with the shackled criminal through the hospital to the x-ray department where the brain scan will done on me. When we get to the waiting room we are the only ones in the waiting room because the hospital does not want regular people around us. The sheriffs and the shackled criminal sit on one side of the waiting room and the male nurses and I sit on the other side and look at each other. Of course the criminal has to ask which correction centre I’m from and what did I do. I told him from the mental hospital and I escaped. That is when it realized that being part of the mental Institute is rated lowered then being a career criminal or a murderer. Everyone thinks you are a nut case but I still had my mind. When it was my turn to get the brain scan, the shackles are removed after I am strapped to the table for the scan to be done. That is when the male nurses are on high alert for me to escape. Once the test is done we have to wait to see if the tests are good. As we sit in the waiting room, the hospital is now getting busy because it is now the regular work day. That is when it really hit me that people have a greater respect for a criminal sitting on the other side of the waiting room then me sitting there as a mental health patient. The people just stare at you as if you are a nut case. Finally we got the OK to leave which I so glad to leave because the people staring at me was starting to hit home. The male nurses are so happy that the driver of the van kept it running because it was nice and warm for us to get in. The male nurses uniform is white pants and white shirt which are not very warm plus they have the thin uniform issued jackets. The drugs they have me on I feel nothing not even the cold but I was so happy to wear my shoes. As we drive back to the Institute the driver of the van makes a side trip so we can get a Tim Horton’s coffee purchased at the drive through window. I did not ask why we did not go in and sit down for a coffee maybe they have a dress code about wearing shackles. The van driver takes his time driving back to the Institute because everyone is enjoying the field trip to take me for the brain scan. Spending time off the 3rd floor ward was good for everyone. I keep my Tim Horton to go cup to show all my comrades what I got to enjoy while in the outside world.
Back on the 3rd floor ward they take off the shackles and take my shoes and jacket away because I am now back home. As I tell my comrades about the outside world I could feel a muscle spasm coming on so I walk up to the main nurse’s station to tell them it is going to happen. I just arrived and the muscle spasm hits and the male nurses all jump on me to keep me under control. They grab the needle from the travel case because it has my drugs in it but with the extra dose for being out in public. They stab me in the ass and pull my pants up and that is all I remember with my face pressed on the floor by the knee of one of the male nurses. The extra dose to being in public knocked me out for a long time and I woke up in the padded room which seemed to be my bedroom. I think I spent more time in the padded room then in my bed in the room on the ward with 7 others. It took me a long time to recover from the extra dose of the drugs. They figured the sugar in the coffee set off the muscle spasm because the food we eat on the 3rd floor ward has no sugar because it makes people hyper. The last thing the nurses need is hyper nut cases on the ward.
The new female doctor was doing a lot of reading on my file and each day when I visited in her office on the grounds she knew more and more of me and asking questions on what happened in the events written in the file folder. To visit the new doctor I had to be shackled and the male nurses took turns escorting me to her office. The male nurses liked walking me outside because they got fresh air and got to enjoy a cigarette which was smoked in the time it took me to walk because being shackled I could not walk very fast. The male nurse always had the case with the needle with my drugs in it in case I had a muscle spasm or mis-behave. The new doctor sent me to other areas of the Institute to see other professionals who would do tests or the professionals would come to the 3rd floor ward to visit with me. On those visits if they were short male nurses to attend with me I had my arm handcuffed to the chair in the room that was anchored to the floor. For some one who has no history of violence or aggressive action I was getting used to the limits they were putting on me all because of 2 woman telling the doctors and nurse what they wanted them to know not the truth. The new doctor tried changing the drugs I was on that only made it worse and I had a muscles spasm in her office but being shackled the male nurse had no troubles controlling me. Once the needle was in my ass I was out now and woke up in the padded room. When I got to go back to visit the new doctor on the walk over to her office. The male nurses would joke about no more muscle spasms in her office because was a lot of work to get me back to 3rd floor ward as a limp body. The new doctor talked about the muscle spasm that I had in front of her and that gave her an understanding what I was going through. Plus she was starting to realize that I still had my mind no matter how much drugs I had in my body.
About this time I was giving up all hope in getting released from the Institute and I was blaming the drugs they were giving me. I decide to stop taking the pills they give you 3 times a day. If you do not swallow the pill in front of the male nurse they punch you in the stomach or judo chop you in the throat to get you to swallow. The male nurses knew I could feel no pain so hit me hard enough to drop me to the floor which inspired my comrades to swallow their pills. If you swallow the pills and then couch them up later so the drugs are not in your system. The daily blood test will show up no drugs and that makes people mad. We all knew when the envelope from the lab arrived a set time during the afternoon from the morning blood test. Then with in 15 minutes the nurses are on the hunt for the people who did not take the pills. I knew they were coming for me so I stood up with my arm out to the side and the male nurse would hit you in the stomach to knock you down and then stab a needle in the ass to give you the drugs you were to take. I just laid on the floor until they all went back the nurse’s station then I would get up and see how my other comrades survived. This was starting to get boring and I decide it was time to leave. The 3rd floor ward has the windows about 35 feet above the ground and it a brick building. When no one was looking I had the locked window open and climbed down the side of the building that had snow on all the ledges being the north side. If I had gone out the south side window, the sun had all the snow melted off the ledges. It did not take long to get in the neighbourhood across from the Institute to find shoes and a jacket. I can not feel the cold because of the drug they have me on but I have to look normal when in public. In the neighbourhood I checked the fence yards to see if there is dog poop or pee which means there is a dog in the house. The darkness is helping me and I open the back door of a house and take shoes and jacket and leave.
Now looking normal wearing a fancy ski jacket which is something I would never wear in public in the first place plus I have shoes that are too big but they are shoes. It takes me about 2 hours to get across the city to a friend’s house and I knock on the door and he lets me in. He is acting nervous and I know why. It is because I have been in the Institute and the 2 women have told him nothing but lies. I did not think he would call the cops until after I left as being a friend but I was wrong. The cops pulled up in front of his house that is when I walked out the back door hoping to make it to the back lane and then I can disappear. As I walk quickly I hear the cop coming from the front of the house. He yells at me to stop which I did and put my arms out to my side. The second cop car pulls in the back lane, the cop gets out and walks towards me. I did not move just held my arms out to my side to show I have no weapons or intend to harm. The cop comes up behind me and kick me in the back of the knees as I fall to the ground the cop in front of me hit me hard in the face. I am now on the snow covered ground and the cops are beating me. The one cop is kicking me in the ribs which breaks a few. The side of my face is in the snow and I think to myself as they are beating me that I feel nothing. As a kid growing up the snow was so cold on my face if my face hit the snow now I’m laying here and I feel nothing. Those are good drugs they have me on. The last thing I remember is my blood from my head flowing in to my eye and it became blurry.
I woke in the Institute hospital because I belong to them. My vision is all blurred because of the beating I got by the 2 cops. I have lots of bandages but feel nothing for pain. The only some what of pain I feel is my broken ribs when I try to move in the bed. I’m handcuffed to the bed because I have now escaped twice from the Institute. The new doctor visits in a couple days and asks lot of question about not being about to feel pain and she is really interested in that aspect of the drugs she is giving me. It was 4 Lasagnas until I return to my home ward of the 3rd floor. I do not have a home with a wife and 4 kids because I am a “ward of the state” at the Institute. When I return back to the 3rd floor ward some of my comrades have gone and they are replaced with new ones. They have also moved from being in a room with 7 other guys to a small room by the nurse’s station and the padded room. I did not mind being moved because it was a lot nicer being closed to the padded room when I spent so much time. Being a 2 time escape gave me a high status which I laughed at because if my escape attempts were any good why did they drag me back. I told my comrades when I do not return that is when I’m the greatest.
Now to go see the new doctor at her office and being a 2 time escapee they locked me down even more. Shackles had more chains to restrict my movement plus I was limited because of the broken ribs not healing properly and could feel them but it was not pain because I felt no pain. The broken ribs were fair game for the male nurse now because instead hitting in the stomach it was the ribs and most likely that is why then were not healing. In the new doctor’s office I was chained to the chair and she was more interested in the fact I feel no pain then why I’m in the Institute when I still have my mind. I tell her it the drugs that are keeping me screwed up and having muscle spasm. I was starting to think the new doctor was doing a drug study on me and I was the test subject. They had no interested and did not care if I return to society to being a working family man paying taxes and working hard in the community. I think on my last escape attempt being 35 feet up in the air on snow covered ledges it proved I did not care about my life. If I fell and died it would have been better to being a “ward of the state” and not having a life. Besides if I fell to the ground from the ledge I mostly would not have felt a thing like everything else.
Once I healed up enough I made another escape and I was gone for a week. The problem I had was the drugs wore off and put me in the shaking sweating shock like a heroin addict coming clean. The place I was hiding called the cops because they thought I was going to die and they did not want a dead body in their place. The cops arrived and they told me to answer the door and that is the last I remembered. The cops beat me again and I woke up the hospital ward of the Institute in the same bed but in worse condition. The cops were just doing their job because the reports that were given to them that I was a bad ass escapee from the funny farm - insane asylum. I gave up on the new doctor and gave up on the Institute because it was not fun any more. I knew I was going to die if I stayed or I might just lose my mind and be a vegetable from the drugs and beatings. It took a long time to recovery from the beating from the cops and once back on “my” ward of 3rd floor the nurses went after my broken ribs as a way of control. They would change my drugs and I would have muscle spasm and be tossed in the padded room. I think they were doing drug experiments on me because I have a mind that could tell them what the drugs were doing plus I felt no pain. This condition of no pain would be good in war or the police because the person could keep going and not know if they were hurt. For the next escape I had to have enough drugs to be able to survive a week to get far away because it will take a month to get the drugs out of my system. I learn how to be Houdi and slight of hand could get the drugs I needed. Being a 3 time escapee my freedom was very limited and they just used me for their drug experiments.
The 4th time I was gone even with broken ribs the 35 foot high building was not a problem. Brandon was a not a safe place and I had to really disappear. I was lucky in the fact I could feel I muscle spasm coming on and get out of the pubic if I was traveling. Once it past then I was OK till the next one came. I made to a safe place and stopped the drugs. It was a month that I stayed in a dark closest getting the drugs out of my system. What I went through was about the same as a heroin addict coming clean but they made the choice to take and enjoy the drug. I did not make this choice and I have made the choice to get it out of my system. I knew I was getting the drugs out of my system because my broken ribs were really hurting and I was starting to feel pain. That was the longest month of my life and the toughest but it is not over because I’m a wanted man. I’m a “ward of the state” which makes me a nobody and I have no identification, no money and no bank account. It they find me I’ll be back on the 3rd floor ward for the rest of my life testing new drugs.
I had to become someone else which was easy to do in the early 1990s with a visit to an important person in Winnipeg. Cash money in an envelope gave me a driver’s license which was the new “me”. I even had my hair permed to be curly and clean shaven. I also listen to the new wave music and no more heavy metal music. All I did for the next year was work to make money and hired a good lawyer. The lawyer had to challenge the mental records and what was on file because these will effect the old me named Joey. Plus the old me still a wanted man for the escape. The lawyer showed me my mental records which explain why they beat me first and asked question later. The 2 women had them portrayed me as a monster which I was not. The lawyer worked hard for me to become Joey again after a year. The day I got my life back I was so happy. The lawyer wanted to sue everyone and anyone because he would have made a lot of money. I wanted nothing to with it because the system did not fail me it was those 2 women that said the lies. If I did not have my mind it would have been a lot worse and I would most like have died in the Institute. It took along time to be able to talk and deal with my dad because of what happened to me. In 2007 I was in Brandon visiting and the Institute had been closed since 2000. Not sure why or how dad and I ended up at the Institute driving around and looking at the buildings. I showed him where the cop car parked and I was in the back seat looking up at my comrades looking down at me through the window. Then my dad keeps saying that I escaped twice from the 3rd floor ward which is along way up when standing on the ground. I had to keep correcting dad with it being 4 times because nobody every told him of the 2 failures in between. My dad accepted and was proud of me becoming Houdi to get my life back. My records now show that I did stay at the Institute but all details have been corrected. I still joke about being at the Institute not of Technology which involves Lasagna jokes too. My ribs hurt for about 5 years and still bother me today when I bend the wrong way.
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