Usual negligent, irresponsible 'caring profession'

When you lie in the main road at a major roundabout, or else dodge the traffic, you expect to get picked up by someone. This, it appears, is what happened to Zach ten days ago. No shoes. Maybe no sunglasses either, or the usual stuff tied to his belt. No keys, that's for certain. Rather scary for the drivers on this particular stretch of road. Luckily it was the middle of the night. Off to UCH and then the transfer the following morning to the local 'hospital.' It's in italics but there is really little of the hospitable about it - apart from the new ward and nice new beds and curtains. Really makes a difference to the mentally ill, doesn't it?

Zach was sectioned again. A 28-day section so that they could 'evaluate' him. He was out in less than a week. Six days. A bit of medication and some enforced sleep and there you go. Out to the streets of Camden. Calls us up in the middle of the night garbling rubbish. Usual questions: 'What are you doing?' elicits a stream of 'What's it to you?' type of response. Won't discuss medication. Shouts and manic laughter at the end of the phone. Admits to cannabis, yet again. 'Calms me. It's my life...' Yeah, and what about everyone else who suffers as a result.

Sam is fed up with it all. 'If he didn't learn after 2006 and especially what happened to him in the Himalayas last year, then he'll never learn...' I know that Zach will never be responsive to treatment or any kind of therapy. Maybe Sam's right. Maybe we should give up on him completely. The problem is that when he's 'fine', he can be delightful; charming, warm and witty but I wish that he would have more insight and just grow up.

And the local 'hospital'? We left it to them. 'If anything happens to Zach this time where he goes completely into orbit, let it be on your heads,' he told the 'nurse' on the ward. If anything happens to Zach this time where there's a dreadful outcome, I think that we should sue the bastards.