Saturday 17th April 1943
My third interview with the ward MO occurred today. I've decided he is a doctor and to be trusted, after all. He didn't shout at me this time, or at the second interview. No doubt he's an odd type of doctor, but I think he does things with a reason. However, it was a rather alarming interview, for towards the end he gave me tests and asked peculiar questions, which from my experience of no.22, I should say were tests for insanity...
He waved his hands in front of my face, made me stretch my arms out in front of me, close my eyes and put out my tongue. And he asked if we kept a butler at home! “Of course not! I've no illusions of grandeur!” I said, shaken. That was a PGI query! Three times, he wanted to know if anything funny was going on in my head. “I'm not mad, you know!” I cried indignantly. “No, of course not,” he said soothingly. But a few minutes later he was asking if I could ever hear anything? “Anything unusual?” he said cautiously. “No!” I said. “I do not hear “voices”” (another PGI query!)
Then he sent me to bed, with a red screen around... I was horrified, thinking this meant I was magnoon keteer and would be in bed for good. But he only examined my chest, and prodded me all over, and hit me with a hammer. (At any rate my reflexes were all normal!) Afterwards he said, in his abrupt manner, “That's all! How would you like to do some work in Ward 37?” “Not as a patient!” I exclaimed hastily. He grunted and hurried away.
In the afternoon I was made to do another intelligence test – one of those progressive pattern devices. Last time I scored 58/60. Perhaps that was an excessive score for a neurotic. This time I was allowed only 40 minutes to do the same test. I finished in 35. Maybe I am suspected of being a madman because at the first interview, I cried out that war, and the Army, and England were all no good! Anyone who thinks these are not excellent, must be mad.
“Obviously a neurotic,” said Howe laconically when we were out picking peas and eating them, this afternoon. “My views are the same as yours,” said Howe, stuffing a handful of peas into his mouth and wandering on down the field, “So I must be another neurotic.”
If only I could concentrate on reading books, or writing letters, as I can concentrate on intelligence tests! I must write soon to April.
Thus somewhat in suspense, I end WINDRISE 1943
He waved his hands in front of my face, made me stretch my arms out in front of me, close my eyes and put out my tongue. And he asked if we kept a butler at home! “Of course not! I've no illusions of grandeur!” I said, shaken. That was a PGI query! Three times, he wanted to know if anything funny was going on in my head. “I'm not mad, you know!” I cried indignantly. “No, of course not,” he said soothingly. But a few minutes later he was asking if I could ever hear anything? “Anything unusual?” he said cautiously. “No!” I said. “I do not hear “voices”” (another PGI query!)
Then he sent me to bed, with a red screen around... I was horrified, thinking this meant I was magnoon keteer and would be in bed for good. But he only examined my chest, and prodded me all over, and hit me with a hammer. (At any rate my reflexes were all normal!) Afterwards he said, in his abrupt manner, “That's all! How would you like to do some work in Ward 37?” “Not as a patient!” I exclaimed hastily. He grunted and hurried away.
In the afternoon I was made to do another intelligence test – one of those progressive pattern devices. Last time I scored 58/60. Perhaps that was an excessive score for a neurotic. This time I was allowed only 40 minutes to do the same test. I finished in 35. Maybe I am suspected of being a madman because at the first interview, I cried out that war, and the Army, and England were all no good! Anyone who thinks these are not excellent, must be mad.
“Obviously a neurotic,” said Howe laconically when we were out picking peas and eating them, this afternoon. “My views are the same as yours,” said Howe, stuffing a handful of peas into his mouth and wandering on down the field, “So I must be another neurotic.”
If only I could concentrate on reading books, or writing letters, as I can concentrate on intelligence tests! I must write soon to April.
Thus somewhat in suspense, I end WINDRISE 1943
posted by Paul Wilson at 4:46 pm
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