Children’s Medical

Name of Hospital: Children’s Medical

City, State/Province, Country: Plano, TX, USA

Number of Stars: 2

Comment: I was admitted to this eating disorder ward after 5 months of anorexia, along with several other mental disorders. The facility looked nice. The bathrooms and cafeterias were clean, the day room had activities, and there was even an art therapy room. I have to say it went downhill around the second day. We had a disciplinary “level system” in our ward. We had to carry around a folder of schedules and forms we needed to get signed by a therapist after every meal and activity. If you managed to get all your signatures for the day, you got put on “level two” which means you were allowed to play with puzzles, a bopit, etc. for about 20 minutes in between activities, along with the other patients. If you did not get all of these forms signed, you were put in “level one” which meant COMPLETE isolation. First of all, on level one, you weren’t allowed to wear makeup to the hospital. They’d make you rub it off if you did (yeah that did wonders for my self esteem) and you were locked in a room all by yourself for the ENTIRE day, with nothing to do. You could only come out for meals therapy, and bathroom breaks. Yes, that means that on Sunday’s you weren’t allowed to go to church. You were often forgotten about. That meant that they forgot to come get you in time for therapy and meals. If you were lucky enough, all the rooms would be occupied and so you would get seated on a desk in the hallway. Which is also where they did therapy after meals.

So yes, I overheard some things. I heard an MT ask a patient, “why are you anorexic?” And she said “I don’t know.” And the MT said, “but there’s gotta be a reason. Like, for some people, it’s to gain attention. Others are anorexic to control people. Now why are YOU anorexic?” I can’t believe that! And we weren’t allowed to file a complaint unless on complaint day, where we would all sit in a room and voice some concerns we had about the treatment. But you weren’t allowed to talk about ANYTHING related to food, eating disorders, numbers, etc. of else you would be put in level 1. You also couldn’t mention any staff names. Also, food was COMPLETELY taboo. You were not allowed to say ANYTHING relating to it. That conditioned everyone to fear the word which just fed the disorder. The angriest I have ever been with the staff is when, during a snack time, I was given a bowl of grapes. I ate all of the grapes, except for one. Which was brown, soft, slightly fuzzy, and stunk. So I told an MT that I had finished my snack, and she checked my bowl and pointed out the grape. I told her it was bad, and she was like “ummmmm, I think you can suck it up and eat it.” I told her no. She said, “you better eat that or else I am not going to sign your form.” So I was forced to eat a moldy grape. It was so degrading and humiliating.

I could go on and on about this place, but I’m trying to keep it short, so I only listed a couple of examples. And last but not least, I was almost out of the hospital when I was told I couldn’t try out for the dance team. Now I have not asked for a lot, but to be on the dance team was all I ever wanted. Preparing for tryouts helped me through my depression better than medicine ever did. They didn’t even discuss it. I wasn’t allowed to. Something about “sudden exercise can disrupt your recovery.” Which I totally get, but this was a HUGE DEAL for me. I wanted to make compromises, accommodations, I offered to increase my calories and gain 10 more pounds for dance season, but it was still a no. They said that if I joined the team I would definitely relapse. That I wasn’t mentally capable of doing it. It sent me into a huge depression and I cut. do NOT Recommend .

2 thoughts on “Children’s Medical

  1. I’ll ad some extra info in the comments that I forgot to add but were pretty much a huge freakin deal.

    Since the doctors didn’t know what the heck they were doing, they latched onto what they call “coping skills” and used that as our primary therapy. So basically they tried to heal us with deep breathing exercises and shit. Got a paper cut? “Use your coping skills.” Body dysmorphia? “Use your coping skills.” Gotta use the restroom? “Use your coping skills.

    So I have selective sound sensitivity syndrome, and once during group therapy the man talking made a noise that triggered a fight or flight response and I kicked the table. So I went outside, and told some nurses and MTs. They told me that I COULD go in there. That I just needed to use my coping skills. I explained my disorder to them and they just smiled and shook their head and told me i was making this up to get out of therapy. I told them to contact my psychiatrist or my mom to get information and they REFUSED. One MT actually told me that “I was looking at his face and seeing his mouth twitch made me make up the noises in my head because my anorexia wanted me to get out of therapy.”

    I really think I’ve got some post traumatic stress from this


  2. Hi Gracie, after submitting a review for this hospital, I was scrolling through the other reviews and noticed this and I was shocked to see another person from the same hospital. You’re definitely not alone on this, going here was my first experience with a psych ward or any type of mental hospital-like situation, and it downright traumatized me.

    I was convinced I had made up my experience because of my parents’ gaslighting, because no one else seemed to find anything wrong with what was done to me, and because it didn’t fit the usual stereotypes. It was clean and new and the doctors smiled constantly (until you did something they didn’t like) and it was a children’s hospital.

    I had no idea what the doctors wanted from me or what I could do to make them stop. I felt they hated me for who I was, they thought I was hopeless and a failure and my parents cried as if their child had died and punished me for being the way I was. I can’t remember what life was like before I was put there, before I was afraid of being locked up every conscious second of my day.

    You’re so not alone and you deserve so much better. I’m so sorry that this happened, I’m so sorry the hospital existed and that people are putting their lives towards this. I’m so angry that this happens to so many people and that so little is done about it and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that people know of the trauma we and so many other people experience. Though one day I hope I’ll be able to stop being afraid, I’ll never stop being angry.

    But right now, regardless of everything, I am hopeful. I hope that you are too or at least that one day you will be; you deserve to feel safe despite anything. I wish only the best for you.


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