For the better parts of the months June and July me and my Related Learning Experience (RLE) group is assigned to the UST Hospital Community Center Ward (CCW), the only ward in the whole hospital that caters to the mentally ill. We had a ton of meetings and orientations before entering the said ward so that we could be “prepared” psychologically and emotionally because the patients might pick up on the underlying tension between the students and it might trigger their aggression. I’ll never forget the first time I entered through the double doors (and by double, I mean 2 huge doors that open from end-to-end, so that you’re trapped in a tube in between), both laden heavily with huge locks, and through the iron grills–yes, also with locks. It was nerve-wracking, because all of these weird images of what to expect stared popping into my head. The patients loitered around the hallway (as they should, because it IS their ward), and they seemed to be very excited to see us student nurses. One even cal all the way towards us to do the mandatory WELCOME shout. Initially I was scared when that patient came towards us. There as just something weird with the eyes. Their eyes seem unfocused somehow, and when you look into them, you will realize that something’s not right. I guess this was my first time to prove that age-old-saying “the eyes are the windows to the soul”. Then we were asked by the clinical instructor (CI) to socialize casually with them, and by the end of that meeting, I figured out that they really were fun people to hang out with. Fun because they’re always interesting. Hardly are they ever aggressive, so all the fears I had about being attacked were quelled. Each patient has a story and each story is interesting. I can only get the complete stories from the charts, because really, most of them don’t even know the reason why they were confined in that particular ward, claiming “I’m not even crazy, why the hell am I even in here?” This became interesting, because all the boring theories that we had to learn last year, we get to apply. Most of the patients there are textbook cases; almost all the reasons why their psyche broke can be found in the book. I don’t really know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Because most of them have been there for a few weeks (at least), the medications prescribed to them have already taken some effect, so them, except for some weird delusions, show normalcy when interacted with. It’s a comfortably environment to be working in. If ever I feel bored or if I’ve got nothing to do, I’d just go to a patient and chat. The things they say usually don’t make sense but it’s always fun trying to decipher what they mean. That I’m enjoying this scares me because I think genetically speaking, my family has a history of mental illnesses and I know that if I don’t learn how to cope with the problems thrown my way, I could easily end up in that ward. Although I’m not really sure that that’s a bad thing, because really, the patients in there, at their worst, have nothing to worry about. And I kind of want that for me.