My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me: Forty New Fairy Tales

STACEY RICHTER. A Case Study of Emergency Room Procedure and Risk Management by Hospital Staff Members in the Urban Facility

SUBJECT 525, A CAUCASIAN FEMALE IN HER EARLY TO MID-TWENTIES, entered an emergency medical facility at around 11 P.M. presenting symptoms of an acute psychotic episode. Paranoia, heightened sensitivity to physical contact, and high-volume vocal emanations were noted at triage by the medical staff. The subject complained of the hearing of voices, specifically “a chorus of amphibians” who were entreating the subject to “pretty please guard the product from the evil frog prince.” The staff reported that the subject’s bizarre behavior was augmented by an unusual sartorial style, commenting that she was “an ethereal young woman wearing a Renaissance-type dress, with huge knots in her long, otherwise flowing hair.” She was accompanied by a strange odor, tentatively identified as “cat urine.”

During the intake interview, the subject volunteered the information that she had nasally inhaled “crystal,” estimating that she had nasally inhaled (snorted) between 50 and 250 mg of “crystal” in the twenty-four hours prior to hospital admission. “Crystal,” it was determined, is a slang term for methamphetamine, a central nervous system stimulant similar to prescription amphetamines such as Benzedrine. Methamphetamine is a “street” drug-of-abuse that has become popular in recent years due to its easy manufacture possibilities (Osborne, 1988). It’s sometimes referred to by the terms crystal, speed, zoomazoom, and go fast (Durken, 1972). In a brief moment of lucidity, Subject 525 theorized that her psychotic state might be due to the large quantity of methamphetamine she had “snorted,” and the staff agreed to put her in a “nice, quiet, white room” for a period of observation. The head resident thought it advisable to administer antipsychotic medication, but the subject, who by all accounts exhibited an uncanny amount of personal charm, prevailed upon the staff to give her a can of beer instead.

After approximately sixty minutes of observation, a member of the nursing staff noted that the subject had begun to complain that “a beslimed prince” was causing certain problems for her, namely “using copper fittings” and “not ventilating right.” This “prince” was, as the nurse understood it, acting “all mean and horrible” concerning the manufacture of methamphetamine, which the subject had cheerfully volunteered as her occupation during the intake interview. The nurse, who was formerly employed in a federal prison and had considerable experience treating denizens of the demimonde, theorized that “Prince” might be a moniker used by the subject’s “old man”; this was particularly likely, the nurse indicated, since the manufacture of methamphetamine is the customary province of “gangs” of motorcycle riders, who often use colorful nicknames as a way of asserting their “outsider” status in society (Ethel Kreztchner, RN, 2002).

The nurse further asserted that this would explain why the subject had offered, at intake, only the name “Princess,” and would indicate no surname. By then the hour had grown rather late, and as the emergency room was quiet, much of the staff gathered around the subject (“Princess”), who began to tell a lively tale of capture and imprisonment by a handsome but wicked “Prince” who was, in fact, “an evil enchanter.” The tradition of shape-shifting sorcerers is a familiar one in old German folktales (Grimm, ca. 1812), though these tales have been widely regarded as fanciful narratives concocted to intimidate and control unruly juveniles (twelve and under) in diverse cultural contexts and are rarely considered historical evidence. Nevertheless, the Princess claimed that the Prince had captured her from an orphanage near Eloy, Arizona, where she had spent her days climbing trees in pursuit of nuts. Chasing butterflies, according to the subject, was another activity she enjoyed in her youth. But that all changed when a handsome young man approached the girl and offered her a pony made of candy. The pony was beautiful and delicious, and though the Princess wished to save it forever, she found she devoured it anyway. With every bite the pony grew smaller. And with every bite the handsome “young man” became more fearsome and wicked-looking.

The staff gathered close, listening with great interest. The Princess went on to indicate that the Prince/Sorcerer had bewitched her with the candy horse, and had since imprisoned her in a prefabricated “home” near a foul-smelling landfill, where she was kept locked up in a “tin can with carpet taped over the windows.” There, the Prince had prevailed upon her to undertake the smelly and dangerous manufacture of methamphetamine by means of his sorcerer’s power. All day long, the Princess said, she was forced to “boil down Mexican ephedrine in a triple-neck flask, bubble hydrogen through a stainless steel tank, or titrate ethyl ether out of lock defrosting fluid, dressed only in filthy rags,” while the Prince rode his shiny “hog” through tall pines in the mountains to the north of town. Or the Prince would “relax and kick back with a can of brew” while the Princess “slaved over a hot chemistry set.” The only positive aspect of the experience, the Princess noted, was that she “cooked the best damn product in Arizona,” a substance that was uncommonly potent and white, she said, with a “real clean buzz.”

The Princess explained, in a sweetly chiming voice, that these endeavors were dangerous, particularly under the conditions imposed by the Prince, who habitually smoked marijuana cigarettes in the vicinity of fumes. She had survived because she was protected by a special angel, one with “gills” who could exist underwater or possibly “inside a solution.” She referred to this angel as “Gilbert” (possibly “Gillbert”), and noted that Gilbert appeared to her when she imbibed heavily of “the product.” The manifestation of angels, seraphim, djinns, and Elvis Presley is common during episodes of psychosis (Hotchkiss, 1969), and much of the staff believed that the Princess was describing an aspect of methamphetamine-induced hallucination. Others on staff found themselves strangely moved by the Princess’s story of forced enslavement and the high-risk game of organic chemistry, and wondered if there might be some sort of truth to it.

The head resident, in particular, took an interest in the subject’s case, indicating to researchers that he was “bored that night, as usual” and that he found the Princess “interesting.” The resident further indicated that his prodigious academic success was based on his above-average intelligence, which was also “a curse” because it led him to feel a feeling of “boredom” and intolerance with all of “the idiots around him,” which, he made clear, also applied to the researchers gathering data on this case. Researchers in turn described the resident as rather “vain and haughty,” or “arrogant,” though most theorized that these traits covered up insecurity about his youth combined with a doomed romanticism undercut by a persistent tendency toward bitterness.

The Princess was exhibiting fewer symptoms of psychosis, and had become quite comfortable in her surroundings, curling up in a nest of pillows “like a cat” (Overhand, 2002). She said that she loved the medical staff and was grateful to them for helping to save her from the evilness of the Prince and the pungent squalidness of methamphetamine manufacture. The head resident shuffled his feet and pointed out that the Princess herself had actually contributed to her own care by wisely seeking medical treatment when she felt overwhelmed by drug-induced psychosis, whereas a lot of “tweaked-out idiots” just went ahead and did something stupid or violent. Then the two stared for a while into each other’s eyes.

It was then that lateness of the hour was nervously remarked upon by all, and several staff members complained that they had been on duty for an excessive length of time. The Princess made a “general comment” that her product could “give a person a little pick-me-up” that theoretically might make the staff members feel like “they were operating at one hundred and fifty percent.”

The staff was curious about the efficacy of the Princess’s homemade methamphetamine, though their enthusiasm abated somewhat after a phlebotomist (a “pretty plump girl who never wore any makeup and never smiled or said hello to nobody beneath her,” according to the environmental control officer) recited aloud in a high and quavering voice a list of the possible effects of nasally inhaling methamphetamine, including “nervousness, sweating, teeth-gnashing, irritability, incessant talking, sleeplessness, and the obsessive assembling and disassembling of machinery” (PDR, 2002). Interest swelled once again when the Princess pointed out that the young phlebotomist had mumbled while mentioning one of the chief effects of the substance: euphoria.

After that, the staff cleared from the small room where the Princess was being kept sequestered by herself, though occasionally a lone member would disappear inside, to emerge a few moments later wiping their nose with eyes unusually wild. Such staff members were also observed tidying their work areas, peering into the mirror, smoking cigarettes, and talking to one another with great animation and enthusiasm but little content (Overhand, 2002). The receptionist was observed taking apart a telephone, so that she could “clean it.” The overall effect was that the staff was unusually energetic and “happy” (see below).

Shortly before dawn, several nurses returned to the Princess’s bedside, where they adjusted the lighting in the small room so a warm glow bathed the subject. They worked with combs to untangle the knots in the subject’s hair. The head resident had entered the room as well, and kept his boyish face, so incongruous beneath his balding head, hunched toward his chest while he made notes in the subject’s chart.

It was then that the subject began to speak softly about a set of ponies she had made out of old tires. The Princess explained how she had “freed” the ponies from the rubber with a cutting implement, and that a “herd” of such ponies hung from ropes in the trees around her prefabricated housing unit, where they blew back and forth in the breeze, bumping against one another with hollow thuds. They possessed the spirit of “running things,” she explained, though they had no “legs to speak of ”; she could look at them and feel the feeling of “something wild and running away.” The subject further explained that nasally inhaling or “skin popping” (subcutaneous injection) of methamphetamine gave her relief from a feeling that “nothing important would ever happen to her” and replaced it with the sensation that she was, like the ponies fashioned from discarded tires, something “wild and running away.”

She indicated that these feelings of flight accounted for the only times that she ever truly felt like a princess.

The notes in the subject’s chart at this point become “tiny and very, very neat,” according to researchers (Plank et al., 2002). The notes themselves indicate that the subject was “an exceptionally attractive woman,” and that the medical staff found her “enchanting.” She was “like them but different — more perfect — yet at the same time more glassine and fragile.” The chart noted that the subject had become sleepy, perhaps due to the fatigue that often follows the ingestion of methamphetamine (Nintzel, 1982). It was indicated that some members of the staff wished to allow her to sleep, while others had an urgent need to “pester her; to poke her in the leg with a stick over and over,” to keep her awake.

Verbal accounts indicate that not all the members of the night staff were equally smitten with the subject. Several members demurred, in particular the phlebotomist, who commented that the subject was “a disgusting drug addict” who was “manipulative.” She added that she hated men “who fall for those poor lost creatures,” even though such “creatures” were in the process of getting “exactly what they signed up for.” The phlebotomist indicated that it was futile to try to help the subject, save medically, because the subject had freely chosen her own seedy destiny, despite her weird story of kidnapping, adding that “not everybody who suffers has a burning need to dramatize it with scarves and eyeliner.”

Videotapes from the security cameras in the waiting area provide a clear visual record of the intrusion that occurred at approximately 4:12 A.M. The tapes show a clean, tiled area violently rent by the shiny chrome form of a very large motorcycle (or “hog”) piloted by the “Prince,” who gained ingress by method of riding through the glass doors, where he continued to gun his motorcycle in circles through a reception area furnished with chairs which became smashed. The “Prince” was reported to be a large, muscular male of indeterminate race sporting “a pair of sideburns as big as teacups.” He was reportedly clad in “enough black leather to denude several cows,” though naturally it has not been determined how many cows would have been needed to provide the amount of leather the Prince was wearing. Much of the hospital staff on duty also reported that the intruder had a “tail, slimy and black, sort of like the tail of a tadpole.” Careful scrutiny of security videotapes does reveal the presence of a whiplike appendage dangling from the back of the Prince’s “hog,” though the possibility that this might in fact be a literal “tail” has been discounted by researchers, who have chalked up this and several other aspects of the medical staff ’s report to group suggestibility (Johansen, 2002). (For example, the hospital staff also reported that the Prince had “eyes that glowed red like coals” and that “lizards and snakes slithered from his boots.”)

It was reported that the Prince then parked his “hog” and proceeded past the reception area, stalking the warren-like halls of the emergency treatment facility in his heavy boots, scuffing the floor, screaming that someone had taken his “woman,” and wondering aloud, in a yelling tone, where he could find his “kitten.”

At this the Princess and hospital staff fled to a supply closet, where they cowered, leaving the issue of how to properly control the “Prince” open for resolution. It was agreed that the police, as well as the hospital security guards, should be alerted; it was lamented however that there was no available phone in the supply closet and such action would require someone to dash out into the hallway where the Prince was raging and overturning carts and smashing his hammer-like hands into walls while eating candy reserved for children who were unfortunate enough to wind up in the emergency room. The Princess, whose melodic voice was muffled due to the press of bodies in the supply closet, pointed out that the Prince possessed special evil magic powers and that anyone who challenged him must be good in heart and clever both, and carry with him or her a small silver bell which the Princess kept on a chain around her neck.

As the destructive noises of the Prince’s rampage became louder, the head resident indicated that he felt he should be the one to make an effort to save himself, the staff, and the once psychotic but now quite sweet Princess. The staff was surprised to hear this, as they had never noticed any behavior related to bravery or even simple kindness on the part of the head resident. They continued to be surprised when they heard him say, in a quavering voice, that though it was true he might not be good-hearted, he certainly was clever enough, so why not give it a go? Everyone in the closet gave him a quiet but heartfelt round of applause. The Princess begged him to be careful and hung the bell around his neck with a trembling hand. She bestowed upon him a soft kiss as he slipped out the door.

The “rescue” of women by handsome, effeminate men is a staple of old folktales, engineered to reconcile a young woman’s inclination toward feckless independence with the prevailing custom of marriage by casting the potential husband as really nice and sort of harmless and at the very least a whole lot better than the alternative of living with her fucked-up family (cf. Cinderella, Grimm, 1812). Despite the tradition of the effeminate male triumphing over the more sexual, “animal” challenger, it seemed uncertain to all present that the head resident could defeat the “Prince” using the tools at his disposal — a stethoscope, some pens, and a pager. It’s difficult to determine, though, what kind of damage the resident may have been capable of inflicting with these devices, since, according to his own account, when confronted with the fierce and gruesome “Prince,” who “smelled like burning rubber and had white stuff hanging off his beard,” he froze, then mutely raised a traitorous arm to point to the supply closet where the Princess and the rest of the staff were hiding.

The Prince wrenched open the door with a huge paw, and out popped the Princess.

According to the staff, the Princess screamed with a high-pitched yelp when the Prince grabbed her, smearing her lovely Renaissance-style dress with grease. The records note that the Prince and the Princess together presented quite an odd picture, one that brought to mind “a nightmare creature clawing a plate of petit fours” (Petix, 2002). The Princess is reported to have said, “It’s okay,” and, “No, but I want to go with him, really,” and, “He’s my old man!” in a tone of tense brightness, but the staff plainly did not believe her and theorized that she was simply trying to “appease her oppressor” in order to minimize the likelihood of domestic violence. Before the staff was able to contact the authorities, the “Prince” settled himself astride his hog and pulled the Princess up behind him.

The Prince and Princess roared out of the building and vanished into the night in a cloud of exhaust.

After the Prince and Princess had departed, the staff grumbled that the head resident had behaved “most cowardly,” and complained that the Princess had been “sacrificed,” to be “whisked off to a prefabricated house where everything is always fast and tinged with madness, or else dark and sad and falling asleep.” Much of the staff argued that something should have been done to help the girl, though some felt it was the curse of the phylum Princess to be always at the mercy of one prince-type or another, and that her best chance was to save herself, which seemed unlikely. The resident, for his part, quickly aligned himself with the phlebotomist, agreeing that the Princess was “just an addict” who had come in “exhibiting drug-seeking behavior anyway,” and implying, in word and action, that drug addicts were by nature less than human and so deserved whatever nasty fate they got. Then he skulked off down a fluorescent-lit hallway with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Though he wore the silver bell around his neck to the end of his days.