I asked AI to write a comedy stand up routine for the Masked AMHP – and this is what I got

 I’ve been reading a lot recently about how artificial intelligence is going to change the world, for better or worse. But could it make the role of the AMHP obsolete?

So, I asked Copilot, my phone’s AI companion, to write a comedy stand up routine as if performed by the Masked AMHP. This is word for word what it gave me.

I'm really, very, very sorry. At least it's not very long.

1 The Great Clipboard Caper:

Our hero walks into a chaotic ward, clipboard in hand. Their mission? To assess a patient's mental state. But wait! The patient has vanished. Poof! Like a magician's rabbit. The Masked AMHP scours the ward, peeking behind curtains, under beds, and even in the laundry hamper. Alas, no patient. Turns out, they were just in the bathroom. Crisis averted!

2. The Case of the Disappearing Section136 Suite:

The Masked AMHP arrives at the designated Section 136 suite, ready to assess someone in crisis. But - plot twist - the suite has vanished! It's like Platform 9 3/4. but for mental health. Our hero searches high and low, only to find the suite relocated to the basement. Apparently, it needed a change of scenery.    

3. The Epic Battle with the Acronyms:

AMHPs deal with more acronyms than a teenager's text messages. MHA, MCA, CTO, CPA - you name it. The Masked AMHP faces off against the evil forces of bureaucratic jargon. Armed with a highlighter and a strong cup of coffee, they decipher the codes and save the day. Bonus points if they can explain them to anyone else.

4 The Midnight MHA Assessment:

Picture this: It's 2 AM. and the Masked AMHP receives a call. A person needs an urgent Mental Health Act assessment. Our hero dons their mask (and pyjamas) and rushes to the scene. They navigate dimly lit streets, dodge nocturnal creatures, and arrive at the doorstep. The patient? Asleep. The Masked AMHP whispers, "I'm here to assess your sanity. Sweet dreams."

5. The Unmasking:

In a dramatic twist, the Masked AMHP reveals their true identity: a mild-mannered social worker by day, AMHP by night. Their colleagues gasp, "You're the Masked AMHP?" The hero shrugs, "Well, yeah. It's in the job description." They unmask, revealing a tired but determined face. And the crowd goes wild (or at least nods politely).

The weirdest mental health law you’ve never heard of

 

(Here's the text, but it's worth watching the video for pictures of puffins)

The Mental Health Act has been evolving over many decades. Indeed, the Victorian Lunacy Acts in the 1800’s contained recognisable germs of the current MHA.

The Mental Treatment Act 1930 first introduced the idea of treatment for people with mental disorder, while the 1959 Act introduced the concept of the Mental Welfare Officer, whose role provided an independent check on doctors having complete control of the detention process.

The 1983 Act further refined this process of legal protection for people being detained against their will in psychiatric hospitals, and the 2007 Act enshrined subsequent changes in human rights legislation into mental health law. The 2022 Draft Mental Health Act will make further changes, if it ever reaches the statute books.

These Acts, and accompanying regulations and statutory instruments, tended to amend, consolidate or even abolish previous legislation. Sometimes, however, anomalies survived.

The smaller islands of the British Isles are a case in point. The Isle of Man, for instance, with a population of around 81,000, has its own Mental Health Act, which still has Approved Social Workers rather than AMHPs, and Jersey in the Channel Islands has a Mental Health Law going back to 1969.

What is almost unknown, however, is the existence of regulations relating to mentally disordered persons in the Farne Islands. This piece of legislation appears to have been forgotten by legislators, with the result that The Farne Islands (Removal of Lunatics to England & Wales) Regulations 1927 was never repealed.

The Farne Islands are a group of small islands off the coast of Northumberland in Northern England. They are now owned by the National Trust.

Mainly inhabited by a vast range of seabirds, including puffins, as well as a large colony of seals, in the early part of the century there was still a community of people living permanently on the islands.

This small but tight-knitted group, known disparagingly as “Fannies” by the mainlanders, eked a precarious living by farming seaweed, milking seals to make seal cheese, and taking eggs and any seabirds they could catch using finely woven nets thrown off the top of the guano covered cliffs.

The Farne Island regulations were created as a result of a notorious incident in 1927 known in the press of the time as the Wellington King.

An aristocrat known as the Honourable Petrus Wimple-Burgoyne developed the delusion that the Farne Islands were the remains of the lost continent of Atlantis, and that as his family originated from Atlantis, he was the rightful king. He started to petition King George VI, challenging him to the throne of the Farne Islands, and demanding that he be invested in Westminster Abbey.

He became such a nuisance that he was eventually committed to a lunatic asylum under the Lunacy Act 1890. However, he got wind of this, and before the ambulance arrived, he fled to the Northumberland coast, where he hired a boat at Seahouses and just after dawn on 1^st April 1927 he reached the Farne Islands.

He was able to convince the rather credulous and inbred “Fannies” that he was their rightful king, and in a ceremony involving the smearing of the rather oily seal cheese over his entire upper body, an India rubber wellington boot was forced over his head, crowning him the “Wellington King” of the Farne Islands.

When it was discovered where he was, efforts were immediately commenced to recover him to the mainland. It was at this point that it was realised that there was no legal instrument that could be invoked to lawfully remove him.

An emergency session of Parliament was convened, and so was born the Farne Islands (Removal of Lunatics to England & Wales) Regulations.

Within days, a Naval Frigate sailed to the Farne Islands and a dozen sailors alighted on the island of Inner Farne to apprehend him. Despite the sailors being pelted mercilessly with puffin eggs and foul-smelling lumps of seal cheese by the loyal “Fannies”, the so-called “Wellington King” was seized, and returned to England, where he was placed in St Bernard’s Hospital in Southall, Middlesex.

To this day, the Honourable Petrus Wimple-Burgoyne is the only person for whom this regulation has been used.

A Christmas Eve Mental Health Act Assessment

 

What every AMHP dreads: being on duty on Christmas Eve and getting a MHAA request just as you’re finishing.

The Masked AMHP has some unbelievable news!

I can't keep it secret any longer!  The Masked AMHP is excited and delighted to reveal that his exploits are to be made into a TV series!

E4 have commissioned a major new series based on my blog. The pitch was roughly along the lines of Call the Midwife meets Sherlock with added AMHPs.

It’s going to be called “It Shouldn’t Happen to an AMHP”, which I feel accurately conveys both the poignance and humour  of an AMHP's life. Or at least, the Masked AMHP's life.

I am thrilled to announce that the part of the Masked AMHP is to be played by David Tennant (only with an English accent), while Olivia Colman will play the Masked AMHP’s AMHP trainee, Vanessa.

It's not all been plain sailing however. I’ve been involved in extensive and gruelling discussions with script writers and the production team, and have reluctantly come to recognise that it will be necessary to alter some of the factual events described in the blog in order to make it more dramatically acceptable to a lay audience.

That is why, for example, the Masked AMHP will have a permanent AMHP trainee, who will be called Vanessa, with him on all the assessments he does, even though in real life I have had dozens of AMHP trainees, who have fairly brief placements as part of their training.

 This is so that the Masked AMHP can mansplain to the rather hapless  but willing to learn Vanessa the minutiae of the Mental Health Act, rather in the way that Sherlock Holmes is always having to explain to Dr Watson what’s going on.

The photograph accompanying this post features a scene from the upcoming TV drama featuring the Masked AMHP and Vanessa undertaking an assessment under the MHA. As you can see, the Masked AMHP is diligently taking notes while interviewing in a suitable manner. Although in real life the Masked AMHP always wears a mask when assessing people under the MHA (I find it saves time), it was felt that it would obscure the handsomely rugged  features of David Tennant.

It has also been necessary to simplify the role of the AMHP for dramatic purposes. It was considered too complicated for every MHA assessment to consist of an AMHP and two doctors (and of course the dim but lovely Vanessa, who will also provide comedic relief), so most of the time the assessments will consist only of the Masked AMHP and Vanessa.

At the end of every assessment, when the Masked AMHP has decided that the patient has to be detained, he will announce with a cheeky glance to camera: “You’re sectioned!”. It’s hoped that this will become a popular catchphrase among the young people.

Some professionals watching the series may feel that unacceptable liberties have been taken with the depiction of the AMHP role, especially when the permanently luckless Vanessa almost invariably becomes victim to some hilarious mishap or other, whether it be mistaking the patient for a psychiatrist -- with hilarious consequences (and what AMHP hasn’t done that?), being mistaken for the patient by police and ambulance crews,  or simply falling into a vat of chocolate blancmange.

Well, my reply to those po-faced professionals is that it seems to me that the only way to get a show on TV featuring AMHPs was to make it accessible and funny, and surely sacrificing a bit of verisimilitude makes it all worth it.

 Oh, and since I’m going to be making a sackful of cash and retiring to the South of France before Brexit kicks in, I couldn’t really care less what those so-called professionals think.

So you think you have what it takes to be an AMHP? The Masked AMHP’s Christmas Quiz!

The AMHP of the future?

Warning: Contains gratuitous examples of reprehensible practice.

Lots of people want to be AMHPs – they’re attracted to the glamour and status of the role, the reverence with which they’re regarded by psychiatrists, police and other professionals, not to mention the greatly enhanced salary that the role attracts.

But quite simply, not everyone is cut out to undertake this complex and demanding task.

So, despite the wishes of those who devised it, I’m exclusively revealing the top secret questionnaire that AMHP courses use, which is designed to identify those who are likely to make good AMHPs, and to exclude those who just aren’t going to make the grade.

Here are some typical scenarios that AMHPs are likely to encounter in their practice, with 4 possible answers.

You have assessed Kylie, a woman with bipolar disorder, at home, and have made the decision that she needs to be detained under the MHA. However, there is no bed. You are concerned about leaving her because of possible risks. While you’re waiting for a bed, do you:

a)    Attempt to get the Crisis Team to keep an eye on her in the meantime.

b)    Offer to put her up in your spare room.

c)     Secure her firmly to a chair with duct tape.

d)    Go home and open a bottle of wine.

You are planning to conduct an assessment of Derek at his home, but you have reason to think that he may resist and become violent. You ask the police to attend to assist, but they refuse. Do you:

a)    Obtain a warrant under S.135(1) MHA which gives a constable the power to enter the property, if needs be using force.

b)    Go to the house and call through the letterbox, offering to buy him a drink if he lets you in.

c)     Go round the back of the house with a crowbar, break in through a window and secure him firmly to a chair with duct tape.

d)    Go home and open a bottle of wine.

You have assessed Jessica at home, decide she needs to be detained, and for once there is a bed. However, Ambulance Control tell you that it will be at least 4 hours before an ambulance will arrive. Do you:

a)    Wait patiently for the ambulance, in order to ensure that she is safely dispatched to hospital

b)    Pop her in the back of your car and take her yourself, playing soothing music during the journey.

c)     Flag down a passing car, telling them you are an undercover agent, secure her in the back seat with duct tape and give instructions to the driver on how to get to the hospital.

d)    Go home and open a bottle of wine.

You’ve been called to assess Joanne, who is on a medical ward. Although there is nothing medically wrong with her, she is completely mute, so when it comes to interviewing her, she does not say anything. In order to fulfil your duty to interview in a suitable manner, do you:

a)    Explain the purpose of the interview and the importance of hearing her own views about what she would like to happen.

b)    Fluff up her pillow, get her a cup of tea and a doughnut, and stroke her hand while at the same time talking about fluffy kittens in order to get her to relax and open up.

c)     Secure her to the bed with duct tape and threaten to waterboard her if she doesn’t talk.

d)    Go home and open a bottle of wine.

Robert is detained under S.2 for assessment in a psychiatric ward, and the psychiatrist is recommending a S.3. You feel that continuing detention is justified, but the second S.12 doctor disagrees. Do you:

a)    Have an extensive discussion with both the doctors in order to reach a consensus of opinion.

b)    Take the dissenting doctor to the hospital canteen, buy them a cup of tea and a doughnut, and talk about kittens.

c)     Take the dissenting doctor into a side room, secure him to a chair with duct tape, and threaten to give him an acuphase injection unless he changes his mind.

d)    Go home and open a bottle of wine.

You’ve assessed Sylvia in hospital. She is currently detained under S.2. She has a long history of schizophrenia, and is prone to relapses, and you and the doctors have decided she needs to be detained under S.3 for treatment. However, her husband, who is the Nearest Relative, has objected to this. Do you:

a)    Decide to go to court to have him displaced as Nearest Relative.

b)    Take the husband out to a tea shop, buy him a lovely cream tea, and have a long chat with him until he changes his mind.

c)     Secure the husband to a chair with duct tape and threaten to pull his finger nails out with pliers unless he agrees.

d)    Go home and open a bottle of wine.

Donald lives a long way away, and has been removed from a train in your area and detained under S.136. He is in the S.136 suite. You have assessed him and conclude that he needs to be detained under S.2 for assessment. You contact the bed manager, who states that, as the patient is registered with a GP outside the Mental Health Trust’s area, they have no responsibility to find him a bed. The S.136 detention will run out in 6 hours. Do you:

a)    Find out where he’s from, contact the bed managers for his area, and try to get a bed in his home area.

b)    Put him up in your spare room.

c)     Break into the bed manager’s office, secure him firmly to a chair with duct tape, and suggest he finds a local bed straight away, while you wield a lump hammer in a threatening manner.

d)    Go home and open a bottle of wine.

How did you score?

Mainly A’s – You’ve definitely got what it takes to be an AMHP.

Mainly B’s – You’re a lovely person, but too lovely to be an AMHP

Mainly C’s – Erm, have you thought about a career in MI5?

Mainly D’s – You’d make a lousy AMHP, but you’re ideally suited to a job in the Conservative cabinet.

A Halloween Mental Health Act Assessment

It was late afternoon one 31^st October. I had received a referral for Bert, an elderly man living alone in a cottage a few miles out of Charwood. His GP was concerned that he had dementia and was expressing severe paranoid symptoms, including being tormented by someone he called Mr Dark, who, he said, was entering his cottage, interfering with his possessions and stealing the electricity from his lights.

I popped into the GP’s surgery and got him to complete a medical recommendation for Sec.2. I then arranged to go with a psychiatrist.

The light was failing by the time we arrived at his cottage, in a remote location a little way outside the village, at the end of a narrow lane. The cottage was in a state of dilapidation; once thatched, many years ago this had been replaced by corrugated iron sheets, which were now rusting and ragged at the edges. The garden was overgrown and choked with brambles and nettles.

The psychiatrist and I made our way to the front door and knocked. A frail looking old man opened the door, and appeared pleased to see us.

“Come in, come in,” he said, without bothering to ask who we were, and led us into a heavily beamed room with a cooking range in the fireplace. We sat down on wooden chairs that were arranged around a large table.

I introduced myself and explained why we were there.

“Your doctor’s worried about you. He says that you’re worried about people coming into the house –“

“Not people,” he said, leaning into us. “Not people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr Dark. He’s not people. He’s not a person. He steals my light. He’ll steal my soul. He’ll extinguish me. He won’t let me alone until he’s taken everything and I’m just a husk.” He started to cry.

He continued rambling on in this vein. He looked terrified and exhausted. He couldn’t continue like this.

“How do you feel about coming into hospital?” I asked him.

“Hospital?” Some semblance of animation lit up his eyes. “I’ll go to hospital – as long as Mr Dark’s not there. Will Mr Dark be at the hospital?”

“No,” I said, “no he won’t.”

Although Bert appeared happy enough about informal admission, I did not feel he could make informed consent, and he might possibly change his mind before he got there. So the psychiatrist and I decided that it was best to complete an application for admission under Sec.2 MHA, to assess him further.

We completed the forms, and I told him he would indeed be going to hospital. This seemed to calm him.

I called for an ambulance, and the psychiatrist, as they always do, left.

Bert sat by the table, and rested his head on his folded arms. He appeared to fall asleep. By now night had fallen.

 That was when I heard a sound coming from upstairs. It sound like footsteps.

As far as I knew, Bert lived alone. I had established that he had no relatives in the area, only a sister who lived many miles away and was in a care home.

“Bert,” I said. He opened his eyes.

“Bert, is there anyone else in the house? Only I thought I heard someone upstairs.”

Bert’s face filled with dread. “He’s here! He’s coming for me.”

I was sure it must be rats. Most likely in a rundown old cottage. Rats.

I decided not to investigate. Instead, I rang Ambulance control to see how much longer they would be.

Then the door from the hall opened and someone walked in. A tall, gangly man with a pale face, coal black eyes, and a wide lipless mouth.

He pulled up a chair and sat down at the table.

Excuse me,” I said, as always polite. “What are you doing here? You’re not a relative are you?”

The man smiled broadly, revealing two rows of rotting teeth.

“A relative? No, I’m not a relative. I’m Mr Dark.”

He waved a hand and the lights in the room flickered and then went out.

Nooks & Crannies of the Mental Health Act 1: The Farne Islands (Removal of Lunatics to England & Wales) Regulations 1927

The Mental Health Act has been evolving over centuries. Indeed, the Victorian Lunacy Acts in the 1800’s contained recognisable germs of the current MHA (an example being Sec.136, the origins of which can be found in legislation written over 150 years ago).

The Mental Treatment Act 1930 first introduced the idea of treatment for people with mental disorder, while the MHA 1959 introduced the concept of the Mental Welfare Officer, whose role provided an independent check on doctors having complete control of the detention process.

The MHA 1983 further refined this process of legal protection for people being detained against their will in psychiatric hospitals, and the 2007 Act enshrined subsequent changes in human rights legislation into mental health law.

These Acts, and accompanying regulations and statutory instruments, tended to amend, consolidate or even abolish previous legislation. Sometimes, however, anomalies survived.

The smaller islands of the British Isles are a case in point. The Isle of Man, for instance, with a population of around 81,000, has its own Mental Health Act, which still has Approved Social Workers rather than AMHPs, and Jersey in the Channel Islands its own Mental Health Law going back to 1969.

Part VI of the Mental Health Act consists of almost unreadably tedious regulations covering the removal of mental health patients from one part of the British Isles to another.

But what is almost unknown (and not mentioned at all in the Jones’ Mental Health Act Manual) is the existence of regulations relating to mentally disordered persons in the Farne Islands. This piece of legislation appears to have been forgotten by legislators, with the result that The Farne Islands (Removal of Lunatics to England & Wales) Regulations 1927 was never repealed, and is not even mentioned in Part VI.

The Farne Islands are a group of small islands off the coast of Northumberland in Northern England. They are now owned by the National Trust.

Mainly inhabited by a vast range of seabirds, including puffins, as well as a large colony of seals, in the early part of the century there was still a community of people living permanently on the islands.

This small but tight-knitted group, known disparagingly as “Fannies” by the mainlanders, eked a precarious living by farming seaweed, milking seals to make seal cheese, and taking eggs and any seabirds they could catch using finely woven nets thrown off the top of the guano covered cliffs.

"Fannies" preparing to catch puffins

The Farne Island regulations were created as a result of a notorious incident in 1927 known in the press of the time as the Wellington King.

An aristocrat known as the Honourable Petrus Wimple-Burgoyne developed the delusion that the Farne Islands were the remains of the lost continent of Atlantis, and that as his family originated from Atlantis, he was the rightful king. He started to petition King George VI, challenging him to the throne of the Farne Islands, and demanding that he be invested in Westminster Abbey.

He became such a nuisance that he was eventually committed to a lunatic asylum under the Lunacy Act 1890. However, he got wind of this, and before the ambulance arrived he fled to the Northumberland coast, where he hired a boat at Seahouses and just after dawn on 1st April 1927 he reached the Farne Islands.

He was able to convince the rather credulous and inbred “Fannies” that he was their rightful king, and in a ceremony involving the smearing of the rather oily seal cheese over his entire upper body, an india rubber wellington boot was forced over his head, crowning him the “Wellington King” of the Farne Islands.

The Wellington King

When it was discovered where he was, efforts were immediately commenced to recover him to the mainland. It was at this point that it was realised that there was no legal instrument that could be invoked to lawfully remove him.

An emergency session of Parliament was convened, and so was born the Farne Islands (Removal of Lunatics to England & Wales) Regulations.

Within days, a Naval Frigate sailed to the Farne Islands and a dozen sailors alighted on the island of Inner Farne to apprehend him. Despite the sailors being pelted mercilessly with puffin eggs and foul-smelling lumps of seal cheese by the loyal “Fannies”, the so-called “Wellington King” was seized, and returned to England, where he was placed in St Bernard’s Hospital in Southall, Middlesex.

To this day, the Honourable Petrus Wimple-Burgoyne is the only person for whom this regulation has been used.

Get The Masked AMHP™ Calendar for 2015 Now!

The Masked AMHP -- Everyone's Pinup (cough)

At last! The mental health related calendar you’ve been waiting for!

January

The last psychiatric bed in the UK

February

“And the Lord said unto me from on high: ‘Go forth and multiply’ – although not quite using those words.”

 March

 

Staff in the Masked AMHP office working on new blog posts

 April

 

“Got no money? Got no food for your kids? Oh boo bloody hoo.”

May

Nigel Farage celebrating UKIP’s landslide victory in the May General Election
(Don’t let it happen!)

 June

 



David Cameron discreetly cracking one off during a speech on immigration

(I’m sorry, I can’t resist the occasional fart joke)

 July

 

At last the Government get to work to provide more ambulances to reduce ambulance delays

 August

 

A new device designed to detect signs of compassion in Coalition policies

September



George Osborne and David Cameron being told the extent of poverty and inequality in the UK

October

 

“The National Health Service ? What’s that?”

 November

 

The Masked AMHP and his faithful AMHP trainee gently persuade a patient to accept informal admission

December

 

A rare picture of a bed manager desperately searching for a psychiatric bed

The Masked AMHP wishes everyone a Happy Christmas and a More Just New Year!

If The Masked AMHP Had a World Cup Commentary

Fabio:              Well, here we are on a fine day, not a cloud in the sky. The Masked AMHP’s sitting at his desk in the AMHP Office, chewing at the bit to take a referral. It’s a quiet day so far, isn’t it, Adrian, but who knows what could be just around the corner?

Adrian:            That’s right, Fabio, but look! Just as he’s settling back to read the paper –

Fabio:              It looks like the Guardian to me, Adrian –

Adrian:             I believe you’re correct there, Fabio – but The Masked AMHP’s  mobile’s now ringing, he’s picking it up – and he’s taking notes!

Fabio:              Just look at the skill there! He’s asking pertinent questions at the same time as he’s madly scribbling on his notepad! What a consummate professional!

Adrian:            And just look at the ease with which he writes down all the salient details! From here it looks like it’s a referral from the Home Treatment Team. It’s for a woman in her 40’s called Dolores, with a long history of schizophrenia, who’s been refusing her depot injection. Home Treatment have been trying to persuade her to take oral medication –

Fabio:              Looks like Quetiapine to me –

Adrian:            I do believe you’re correct there, Fabio. Hard to tell, The Masked AMHP’s handwriting leaves something to be desired!

Fabio:              No-one’s perfect, not even The Masked AMHP!

Adrian:            Never a truer word, Fabio, never a truer word. Anyway, she’s refusing that too, and becoming increasingly psychotic!

Fabio:              Looks like The Masked AMHP’s going to have to go out on this one, Adrian!

Adrian:            You’re right there, Fabio! And just look at that! A quick browse through his contact list and he’s got two Sec.12 doctors on board! What a mover!

Fabio:              That was a bit of luck there.

Adrian:            Luck’s got nothing to do with it! The Masked AMHP knows all the Sec.12 doctors who’re wanting to build swimming pools or saving up for a BMW 7 Series.

Fabio:              And they’ll never turn down a chance for a quick 170 quid.

Adrian:            You’re not wrong there, Fabio.

Fabio:              That’s all well and good, but what about a bed? He’s ringing the bed managers, but he doesn’t look like a happy bunny!

Adrian:            He’s muttering something about the nearest bed being in Harrogate!

Fabio:              Phew! That’s 300 miles away! He won’t get the local ambulance service to transport a patient there!

Adrian:            He’ll have to get a private ambulance for that little job.

Fabio:              The Masked AMHP’s Trust must have deep pockets, Adrian.

Adrian:            Either that, or they’ve got no common sense.

Fabio:              A bit close to the knuckle there, Adrian.

Adrian:            But seriously, doesn’t this put paid to any Mental Health Act action today? There’s no point in going out to assess if there’s no bed, surely?

Fabio:              Au contraire, Adrian. The Masked AMHP’s legally bound to make an assessment. And don’t call me Shirley.

*   *   *

Adrian:            Well here we are outside the patient’s house. Nice little suburb, by the look of it – but look at that! There’s a broken window, and the TV’s out on the front lawn! Doesn’t look good to me, Fabio!

Fabio:              But ever the professional, The Masked AMHP’s calmly sitting it out, waiting for the doctors to arrive.

Adrian:            Perhaps we can turn to our guest expert in the studio for an opinion. Tell me, Richard, what do you think he’ll go for here? Section 2 or Section 3?

Richard Jones: (For it is he) Of course, we mustn’t jump the gun. An AMHP will always have to consider the least restrictive option before resorting to a formal application under the Mental Health Act. But as a rule of thumb – Section 2 if you don’t know the patient, or there’s been a significant change in presentation requiring a fresh assessment, and Section 3 if the patient is known and the appropriate treatment has been decided. But I’d probably tend to favour a Section 2 if the patient’s in the community, especially in these circumstances. Of course, the new Draft Code –

Adrian:            Thanks for that Richard – but look at what’s going on! The doctors have arrived, they’ve all had a bit of a chinwag in The Masked AMHP’s car, and now they’re going to the front door!

Fabio:              What are the odds on The Masked AMHP getting through the door, do you suppose, Adrian?

Adrian:            Well, judging from past performance, he can be a nifty little mover in a tight spot.

Fabio:              There’s Dolores, she’s opened the door – and The Masked AMHP is engaging her in conversation!

Adrian:            And look at that – foot in the door, stepping forward – and they’re in!

Fabio:              Amazing bit of footwork from old Masky there.

Adrian:            Now they’re in, he’s telling her the purpose of the visit.

Fabio:              Ever the professional. Oh and look! She’s asked him for his ID and he’s showing her his card!

Adrian:            Is that a yellow card, Fabio?

Fabio:              No, it’s just a trick of the light.

Adrian:            Well, Dolores is cooperating with the assessment so far, she’s even telling them about the voices she’s been hearing telling her not to take her medication!

Fabio:              It’s going smoothly so far, but it could still be an early bath for The Masked AMHP.

Adrian:            Well I didn’t expect that! She’s saying she’ll agree to an informal admission! Isn’t that offside?

Fabio:              Don’t get me started, Adrian!

Adrian:            Well they’ve concluded the assessment – now it’s decision time. What do you think Richard – Section 2, Section 3, or – Oh, and they’ve gone with the informal admission.

Fabio:              Bit risky that, don’t you think? What if she changes her mind?

Adrian:            I think old Masky’s weighed it all up, and he’s gone for the less restrictive option.

Fabio:              But couldn’t he have gone with Home Treatment?

Adrian:            You’re forgetting – they’ve already tried Home Treatment and it didn’t work. So that only leaves informal admission, or detention under the Act.

Fabio:              Masky’s on the phone to the bed managers – and he’s smiling! It can only mean one thing! They’ve used a leave bed and got her into a local hospital.

Adrian:            That’s cause for celebration, all right!

Fabio:              Well, they think it’s all over – it is now!

Essential Christmas Gifts for Mentalists!

The Masked AMHP™ produced some indispensable products for AMHP’s a couple of years ago. He’s now introducing a range especially for people with mental health issues! He’s called it the Mentalist Collection.

AMHP Detector

Carry this handy device with you at all times, and you need no longer live in fear of that unexpected knock on the door heralding the arrival of an evil AMHP and his or her Sec.12 doctor henchmen. It will detect an AMHP in the vicinity anywhere within 100 metres, and give you those essential extra minutes in order to make your escape through the back door.

 

Disappearing ink

Left it a bit late to get away from that pesky interfering AMHP? Well, there’s another crafty ruse! When they’re about to fill in those pink forms, show you’re cooperating by giving them this innocent looking pen. What they don’t know is that within 2 hours the ink will evaporate leaving no trace! So by the time you get to the hospital, they’ll be presented with nothing but blank forms!

Escape kit

So, despite your AMHP detector and disappearing ink, they’ve still somehow managed to get you into hospital. Don’t despair! This amazing lightweight rope ladder folds away and can be concealed inside a toothbrush holder! Then, after lights out, it’s a simple matter to make a clean getaway through your bedroom window!

Tin foil hat kit

Everyone knows that the ESA and GCHQ are monitoring the entire nation’s thoughts with undetectable microwaves. A great way to protect yourself from this intrusion is with a tin foil hat! This kit contains everything you need to make your own! Will also prevent aliens from employing their nefarious mind control techniques!

Electromagnetic mind shield

Concerned that even a tin foil hat may not protect you from external thought wave interference? This unobtrusive headgear is guaranteed not only to shield your brain from any remote sensing equipment, but will also stop your thoughts from being broadcast on local TV stations and prevent persons unknown from taking thoughts out of your head! Comes in three colours: Men-in Black, Paranoid Paisley, and Lucy-in-the-Sky Tangerine!

Pull Yourself Together and Snap Out Of It DVD

You know the saying “There’s always someone else worse off than yourself?” Well, the Masked AMHP Blog team have tracked that person down and have interviewed him for a special mood boosting DVD!

Feeling down in the dumps? Watching this DVD is guaranteed to cheer you up! There really is someone worse off than yourself!

Comes with a special bonus DVD consisting of someone who’s never had any mental health problems saying motivational things designed to make you feel better! Examples include such classic lines as:

• “It’s like you’re not even trying.”
• “Try having a nice long bath.”
• “Go for a walk.”
• “There’s no such thing as mental illness.”
• “It’s all in the mind.”
• “You’ve no reason to feel depressed.”
• “Try thinking positively.”
• “It’s as if you don’t want to get better.”
• “Try smiling once in a while.”
• And of course the classic “Just snap out of it!”

Please note: The Masked AMHP has now gone for a nice long lie down in a darkened room. He might then go for a walk in the countryside, followed a long bath surrounded by scented candles. It is hoped that normal service will be resumed on the Blog after Christmas.