Here comes Emily

Let’s talk about Emily (obviously not her name.. but that’s what we will call her). Emily is 14 years old and came to us due to difficulty controlling impulses and aggression. Before Emily arrived, we were prepped with her intake information. REAL long story short, Emily presented with a low functioning IQ with significant learning disabilities, coupled with a long narrative of psychiatric treatment. Specific diagnoses aren’t necessarily relevant to the story.

The thing that stood out to myself and other staff was a specific instance of aggression towards her mother. While there was history of aggression towards the mom, one day Emily “leveled up” so to speak. Now, who knows what events led up to this incident, but to summarize as best as I can remember, she knocked her mom out; clocked her one good time. Nothing too “crazy” about that, right? Awful, yes, but not unheard of.

What Emily did next.. never in my life. This child straddled over her unconscious mother and PEED on her. Like a got damn dog marking their territory.

Next day, enter sweet Emily. Emily is pushing six feet tall, easily 250lbs+. She avoided eye contact at all costs and mumbled responses if she responded at all. She had a foul odor to her; we quickly learned that she had been refusing to shower or wash her clothes for weeks.

Fast forward a few weeks and Emily is adjusting well to the setting and was even been completing full hygiene every day. She started engaging more with her peers and staff, participating in school, even smiling. Then the farting started. Yes, you read that right.. farting. In the beginning, we all tried to ignore it and would, in the MOST inconspicuous way, ask her if she needed to use the restroom, or step out, or how her tummy was feeling. It was brought up in team and during her therapy sessions, but she presented as if she had no idea what we were talking about. Ok, cool. I’m sure it’ll pass.

But it does not. Well, Emily sure continued to pass.. gas. Ha. However, now aside from the foul stench emanating from Emily, now the farts are audible. Like whoopee cushion fart sound audible. Long, and LOUD. The classroom I was in was small, so there was no denying what was happening. Naturally, her peers hit their tipping point and confronted her. Honestly, they were relatively kind about asking her to step out of the room into the hallway if she needed to pass gas.

I’m not sure what all happened the rest of the day or in the dorms that night, but the next day, the group entered my room, Emily the last to take a seat. I said hello to everyone and start the day. But I noticed that Emily is looking around the room a lot, and smiling. Like, creepy, menacingly smiling… then the smell hit me. A few of the other residents started gagging and go into the hallway. We asked Emily if she needed to go to the bathroom, and this child.. this child said, “I already did”, with that shit eating grin on her face.

We asked all the other residents to leave the room and we called a code for additional staff and the nurse to assist. I wasn’t sure what “protocol” was for this kind of scenario, but I just wanted to get the fuck out of the room. Remember, how I said the room was small? The way the desks had to be set up in the room created a barrier where I could not exit the room without Emily first moving. I didn’t foresee needing to “escape” from a room full of children. I had been more focused on the “feng shui” of the space, like a fucking idiot.

So there I was.. trapped, in a cloud of shit. Emily at this point is not responding to staff but sure as fuck is still smiling, I was of no help to the situation being such a new staff member, so I was quiet up until this point. Then, Emily stands. Now this child is STARING directly at me, fists clenched tight at her sides.

We were trained on how to protect ourselves and keep the residents safe. But that sure as fuck was not what I was thinking about when a child, the size of a grown ass man, with pants FULL of shit starts staring me down and postering towards me. It was like time slowed down as she took a step towards me. I thought my best bet would be to jump over my desk and get around her that way. At that point I would have eaten a punch or two over getting touched by the poo. But then… a LITERAL angel came to my rescue. Let’s call him, Mr. Toby. Mr. Toby flew into the room to restrain Emily just as she pulled back to swing on me. He had height and weight on Emily so I remember thinking he was the only one that actually would have been able to restrain her.

I was instructed to leave the room, and Emily was cleaned up and escorted back to the dorm. House keeping came in to clean and sanitize my room, so fortunately I was not responsible for cleaning up. Not that I would have. Hell fucking no.

The team decided it was best to keep Emily in the dorms for a few days after that. The following Monday, Emily came into my room, said hello, and had a seat to work on her assignments. It was as if nothing happened. Again, something outlandish and wild happens, and no one acts any different. Her therapist shared they discussed it in therapy and had moved past it. I too wanted to pretend that none of it ever happened.

A month or so later, Emily attacked her therapist unprovoked and was transferred to another, better equipped psychiatric facility.

*Clarification.. when I reference “restraining” a child, this was done by trained, mental health professionals, in a psychiatric hospital setting. Every precaution was taken to ensure the safety of every child as well as staff member.