My Unforgettable Experience at Self Regional Hospital

My name is Ben Meredith, Jr. I’m a 16-year-old high school athlete, almost 17, and like many others, I caught the flu. But this was no ordinary flu.

It all started around Valentine’s Day. I came home from school with a fever of 104.5. Since my whole family had already been sick with the flu, I thought it was finally my turn. I assumed I’d be out of school for a few days, rest up, and get back to normal. But that’s not what happened.

For the next few days, I felt completely drained. I’d wake up, snack on something small, and go right back to sleep. After a couple of days my fever went away, but I still felt awful and I couldn’t sleep at all.

I returned to school one week later. I tried to push through the day, but I still didn’t feel like myself. I wasn’t my usual energetic self.

A Sudden Change: Panic in the Night

I was struggling to sleep but kept trying to push through. I had no idea how insomnia could affect my state of mind. The following night, I hoped to get some rest and reset. Instead, I woke up at 2 a.m. feeling panicked and scared. Something felt wrong, but I couldn’t explain why. I went downstairs and told my parents I had not slept in days. I don’t know why I didn’t tell them earlier, but I didn’t and I should have. My mom came up and slept in my room the rest of the night. Neither of us got much sleep. A full 24 hours later I was losing my mind. The insomnia scrambled my brain. I had severe anxiety, paranoia, and a lot of Deja Vu. I was hearing voices that were not there and having delusions. It freaked me and my parents out. I was so amped I could not sleep. My parents were terrified what state I would be in if I went another night without sleep, so they decided to take me to the ER to see if they could help me sleep and feel better.

The ER Experience: Confusion and Fear

When we arrived, I was quickly taken to a room. Nurses put an IV port in my arm without explaining what was happening. A doctor came in and wanted to talk to me alone, which made me nervous. My dad reassured the nurses, “This isn’t my son. He’s not acting like himself.”

I tried my best to explain how I was feeling, but my mind was foggy. The hospital staff kept asking me questions, which only made me more confused. I started having strange thoughts and couldn’t tell what was real anymore. I kept hearing my mom’s voice, even though she wasn’t there yet. When she arrived and gave me my blanket for comfort, a nurse immediately took it away without telling me why. I felt angry and powerless.

A Scary Night in a Strange Place

Eventually, I was moved to the mental health wing of the ER. Things only got worse when a loud argument broke out nearby. A mother and her son had come because he tried to stab her. Security was called to calm them down. It was scary.

The shouting kept me awake, and I felt even more trapped. Throughout the night, I kept asking for simple things like water or a chance to stretch my legs. The staff refused, explaining rules that made no sense. I felt helpless and frustrated.

A Difficult Morning: Frustration and Confusion

I kept needing to use the bathroom, but someone had to watch me. This made me extremely uncomfortable, especially since I couldn’t tell if my underwear was on properly under my hospital gown. I was incredibly uncomfortable in the hospital gown on a bed too small for me. The blanket didn’t even cover my whole body. After some heavy meds, I finally fell asleep around midnight.

At around 7 a.m., I woke up feeling more like myself but a big groggy from the meds. I was still confused why they hospital was treating me like a criminal and not a patient. I genuinely believed they were planning to keep me there, especially since a doctor had told my parents they needed to leave.

I was craving something normal to eat—McDonald’s bacon, egg, and cheese, or just some bacon—anything besides hospital food. My dad brought me my favorite drink from Starbucks, but a nurse quickly took it away, saying we couldn’t have outside food. My heart sank again. My mom convinced them to let her pour small amounts of it into the tiny cup she used throughout the night to give me water.

I noticed my morning breath and quietly asked my mom, “Can I get a toothbrush, please?” She went out to ask for one but didn’t return right away. Eventually, a man came in and handed me a toothbrush. Still weak from lack of sleep, I wasn’t confident standing, but I slowly got up and brushed my teeth. As I did, I heard laughter from the sitters outside my room. In my head, I wondered if they were laughing at me.

I placed the toothbrush on the sink, unsure if I’d have to stay another night. As I sat there, feeling angry, I asked if I could use the bathroom. My mom leaned over to comfort me, but a nurse quickly fussed at her, saying she wasn’t allowed to sit on my bed.

The next few hours dragged by. To pass the time, my mom and I played rock-paper-scissors. Eventually, someone walked in and said, “I need to talk to the patient alone.” She briefly explained why and asked me several questions. By this point, I doubted my own thoughts and wanted to ask, “Can my parents just stay in the room?” Unfortunately, they had to wait in the lobby. They couldn’t even stay nearby. They had to all the way to the lobby. The woman eventually left, and my parents returned a few minutes later. By then, I was exhausted and frustrated with the entire system.

While waiting, there was yet another commotion involving the mother and son from earlier.

I kept asking my mom if I could just stretch my legs. Finally, a nurse allowed me to walk a short loop around the hospital. At one point, I considered running just to get out, but I worried that some cop might tase me, so I gave up on the idea. When I returned to my room, all I could do was wait.

Waiting for Answers

The only answers we got were from MyChart and Google. From my labs, I appeared to be dehydrated, and the CT scan showed a sinus infection. Yet, no fluids or antibiotics were given to me. My mom kept forcing me to drink water and Powerade she got from the nurses. They wouldn’t allow us to bring in outside drinks or even have a full bottle. Everything had to be in tiny hospital cups.

After a final evaluation, I was allowed to leave and told to follow up with my pediatrician and a pediatric neurologist. The likely diagnosis was a post-viral reaction—exactly what my parents had been saying all along. They just wanted me treated for insomnia, believing sleep would help everything else improve. Instead, the ER staff treated me like a mental health patient, neglecting basic care for my dehydration and insomnia.

After hours of waiting, I was finally able to go home. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It was like I had been trapped in a nightmare, and I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

Looking Back: Lessons Learned

The days that followed were tough. I still couldn’t sleep well, and I kept worrying that I might end up back in the hospital. The whole experience left me shaken, but one thing kept me grounded: the belief that God was still in control.

This experience taught me the importance of listening to my body and asking for help when something feels wrong. It also showed me how crucial it is for hospitals to treat patients with kindness and understanding. While that night at Self Regional was one of the scariest experiences of my life, I came out of it stronger and more aware of how valuable my family’s support truly is.

If you are interested in reading my mom’s take on the experience, you can read it here.