Places that treat mental illnesses should be warm, friendly and inviting.

Beth A. Leverence On a sunny August afternoon, I came home from work to find…

Places that treat mental illnesses should be warm, friendly and inviting.

Beth A. Leverence

On a sunny August afternoon, I came home from work to find my 17-year-old son, Aaron, lying on the sofa moaning in pain. That night we took him to the Emergency Room where a CT scan revealed he had appendicitis. His appendix needed to be removed. The surgery was scheduled immediately, and gratefully, it went smoothly.

The following morning we came back to the hospital to visit. Knowing what room he was in, we walked through the door and took the elevator to the floor where he was staying.  No one stopped us at the hospital entrance and asked who we were visiting. They never called the floor to get permission for us to go to his room, and they most certainly did not request we lock up our personal belongings or go through a metal detector before proceeding to visit him. It seems absurd, doesn’t it, that you should have to pass through metal detectors to visit your loved one in a hospital?

Places that treat mental illnesses should be warm, friendly and inviting.

When Aaron was 15, he became very ill with a difficult-to-treat case of schizophrenia.  As a result, he has spent a lot of his life passing through different mental health facilities. Every time we visited at the Milwaukee County Mental Health Complex, we were required to stop at the front desk and tell them who we came to see  They called the ward where he was staying to get permission. Once confirmed, they had us lock up our belongings. Finally, they took a metal detecting wand and checked us front and back for weapons. This process causes me to shake my head in wonderment. Was my son in a hospital or was he in a prison?