Ins and Outs of a Locked Ward: My 30 Years as a Psychiatric Nurse
by Kevin O’Hara
Apprentice House Press
One of the running gags in Kaufman and Hart’s play “The Man Who Came to Dinner” is the doctor who keeps trying to hawk his memoir: “Thirty Years an Ohio Doctor.” In Mr O’Hara’s new work, we are offered a chronicle of 30 years as a Pittsfield Psychiatric Nurse, which is anything but a gag. It is, instead, the erudite and heartfelt autobiography of a major literary figure who happens to live in our midst. This is Kevin O’Hara’s fourth book, all of them memoirs with a specific, geographic focus. His first, “The Last of the Donkey Pilgrims,” was a best-seller optioned for film adaptation, and told of the fascinating 12 months O’Hara spent walking the outer limits of Ireland. This new work is something quite different.
Part of a large, immigrant family, Kevin and his brother Dermot decided to follow in their mother’s footsteps and become nurses. Kevin’s story often refers to these family members, but largely it is his own personal tale of building a career, one which was ultimately forged almost in spite of itself. His tale is set principally in a hospital room in the Neurology section of Berkshire Medical Center, Kevin’s career having been cut short by an attack from a patient in the Jones-III Psych ward. Over the course of eight days, the injured man recounts his story to another patient with whom he shares a room. As he reminisces about his life, we learn the details of his training, his work, his eccentricities, and the courtship of his wife Belita, as well as the circumstances of their marriage.
O’Hara’s unique voice as a storyteller is richly involving, partly because it is hesitant to reveal all of its secrets even while it generously investigates the minutest of details. He doesn’t merely relate an incident, he creates the necessary environment on the page for the reader to enter into his experiences. And yet, no matter how fine the detail he provides, the impression is always that there is much he feels he cannot reveal. This has a visceral, palpable effect; you hear him with your gut, not your ears. You feel privileged to know what he has told you and you feel as though you’d like to meet him for a Guinness, somewhere quiet, so you can cajole him to elaborate on each story you’ve read or listened to him read to you. One of the nice things about Kevin O’Hara is that he just may take you up on the offer.
Part of what keeps this book so alive is the charged, electrifying sensation that the reader is extracting highly confidential, sensitive information from this one-time Berkshire Eagle commentator (he still contributes now and then). For example, O’Hara writes about his uneasy relationship with his supervisor, who was dead-set against O’Hara passing his finals and taking up a nursing career. This section reads like a confession, a blunt and forthright appraisal of the writer’s own personal weaknesses, as well as an ode to the inner force which he harnessed in order to persevere and succeed. Its candor and immediacy are thrilling.
Later in the “week,” he writes about Belita, “whose unfailing love and inspiration have made this book possible.” Having met Mrs. Kevin O’Hara many times, I can confirm that this dedication is perfectly stated. The story of her life in the region and sudden marriage to her husband, intended and offered as a salvation by Mr. O’Hara, is both utterly charming and more than a little difficult to put down. Her role as wife forms a parallel to the life of O’Hara’s mother; in their own ways, both women helped to create the man whose life and work is now an inspiration to so many readers. This author/narrator is a gifted, natural story-teller, driving us to turn the page with furious commitment as we wonder if his internal bleeding will ever cease, if his career will have a more gentle conclusion and if his roommate will last until the final page. The image of the “locked ward” takes on poetic resonance far greater than its initial appearance in the title.
This is a completely engaging book about someone you know, or perhaps wish you knew, that simply must not be missed.
