16 April 2024
Tuesday. A patient asked me today, through the dark, why she was in cuffs. What a GOOD question. I do love a curious patient.
The cuffs are the first step of treatment. Every course of therapy begins with a little problem to solve together, and mine happens to be attached to your wrists. Solving it is very good for the confidence. Nobody has ever stayed in them for long; that is not what they are for.
There is also a button in the cell, which I do not care for at all. One press and a member of staff comes, not me, and lets the patient out of my care early. The others may carry on without her. I have asked for it to be moved further away. I have asked for it to be painted the same colour as the padding. I have been told no, very kindly, several times.
And there are the cameras, which watch my patients the whole hour, from the corner, never blinking. I find them a little intrusive. They find me a little intrusive. We have reached an understanding.
Notes for tonight: two patients, both delightful, both out of their cuffs in what I can only describe as an unhelpfully short time.
— Your Therapist
