The Gods Are Eaten By Lice

Misery and poverty which we are bound to face soon, are old-timers in the yard of the Neuropsychiatric Hospital in Kovin. Around 1,000 patients and 458 staff have reached rock bottom and can go no further.

"The costs of a day in hospital have not changed from September to January," said hospital director Dusan Jagodic. This practically means that we have barely been able to make ends meet in the last months. We buy either medicine, food or fuel, since we can't buy all three at once. Money, when it comes, is a month or two late. After that time, the costs of a day in hospital have changed, and we cannot cover expenses. Medicine is the greatest problem. Compared to the consumption of medicaments from a year or two back, when we had similar problems, we can now buy only 12%-14% of the most necessary medicaments. The patients are becoming more aggressive. They destroy the inventory and attack the staff. We cannot replace what has been destroyed. There is no money. The staff are underpaid, and the inadequate salaries are half a month late. Many go on sick leave because it is more worthwhile than working for a little money.

We survive by asking and begging for help wherever we can find it. If it weren't for private persons, the Red Cross, the Serbian Orthodox Church and the Soros Foundation, I don't know how we would manage. They supply us with food and second hand clothes and footwear. That is how we cover minimal needs. There is no money for heating, medicine and hygiene products. We live from day to day, and cannot plan things even a month ahead.

The buildings which house the Psychiatric hospital were built from 1911-1914 and were intended to be a comfortable garrison. World War One and its outcome changed the plans of the Austrian general staff. In 1924, the buildings were turned into a hospital for the mentally retarded. Ten years later, the hospital was very well equipped and the treatment of patients reached such a degree as can only be dreamed of in these sad times. Many well known Belgrade psychiatrists began their careers in this hospital. Until 1971, some 10-odd psychiatrists were working in this hospital. Today there are some 50-odd doctors, 30 of whom are specialists for treating mental disorders. They treat around 1,000 patients, or, rather, they used to. There are no medicaments anymore.

"After 16 years' work here, I have the right to ask who is more insane; they, or we, who work in these conditions," says Nada Mokan, a neuropsychiatrist. A few days ago, while I was on duty, in the middle of the night I heard a patient collapse and fall from his bed. I went in to check him. There was no light. There are no more bulbs. I managed to reach him. He was laying on the floor, and I turned him towards the moonlight coming through the window, and saw that he had some blotches on his chest. I touched him and the blotches started moving. Lice had gathered in clusters."

Mokan works in the men's Acute Cases Department. It can be recognized by the bars and doors without locks. There is a promenade in the hall. Those who have seen psychiatric hospitals only in horror films, would have trouble realizing where they were. Among the characteristic blank faces, there are others, faces one sees in the street. Ordinary, normal people, but only on the outside. Inside - chaos and havoc, a soul in torment, or, worse, "a serious breakdown on the lines" producing a very specific view of the world. There are no "Napoleons," but there are an increasing number of "Arkans" who is currently en vogue. They create the universe, the cosmos. An entire pantheon of gods-beggars, scabby gods and gods -tramps... In a multitude of those who believe that the worst is really the best, they are the most extreme. They do not question anything. Cold radiators, filth, beds without linen, the general misery and poverty which exudes from every corner - are part of their world. They walk around in old army coats, pajamas and shoes on bare feet. Soap and shampoo have become a forgotten luxury in this hospital. Apart from the lice, mange is spreading.

"The most difficult psychiatric cases of different diagnostic categories can be found here," said Dobrivoj Olcan, head of the department. "Those who have committed a crime are not in the Central Jail. Our patients are quiet, but depending on the illness and if they are without medication, they are capable of anything. It is only rarely that I can say that those who leave have been cured. Fifty percent are schizophrenic, while the rest suffer from other difficult mental disorders. Many of them will spend their entire lives here or in similar hospitals. We do not have violence, or serious rebellions. The patients are visibly more aggressive and more disturbed than earlier, since there is no medicine, but we still keep them. Those who are very aggressive are tied to their beds. This is done with bandages, if we have them. A male-nurse wrote in the duty book recently, that he could not tie down a patient because there were no bandages. The hospital in Kovin also has its refugees. Ninety patients who had been forgotten somewhere, or got lost, were brought here from various fronts and refugee groups from Knin and Drnis via Slavonija, central and eastern Bosnia. All our warring nations are the same in insanity. In this hospital it is difficult to tell one's religion or where one comes from.