Controlling influence

    Institutions such as nursing homes and prisons
    are increasingly using psychoactive prescription drugs to control
    people in their care. Natalie Valios reports.

    How many social workers and care staff wish
    that their disruptive, angry or aggressive clients could be calmed
    down and sorted out with a simple pill? Frustrated or tired workers
    may long for a magic chemical “cure all”, but few would admit
    administering drugs to clients solely for control and restraint
    purposes.

    Despite this reticence, there is some evidence
    that psychoactive drugs are being used as a means of social control
    in institutions. Unfortunately, evidence tends to be anecdotal and
    few of those involved are willing to speak out about it.

    Paul Burstow, Liberal Democrat spokesperson
    for older people, is not so retiring. He has been campaigning for a
    number of years for an end to the over-prescribing of
    anti-psychotic drugs to older people, nicknamed the “chemical
    cosh”.

    At the end of last year, he published a report
    calculating that more than 35,000 older people in nursing homes and
    as many as 53,500 in residential homes were being sedated for no
    medical reason.1 It reveals that between 1999 and 2000
    there was a 70 per cent increase in the use of atypical
    anti-psychotic drugs in one year for people aged 60 and over.

    The National Service Framework for Older
    People has set a target that by this month all people over 75
    should have their medicines reviewed at least annually. Those who
    take a cocktail of four or more drugs should be reviewed twice a
    year.

    While he says this is a move in the right
    direction, Burstow wants new research and prescribing guidelines
    brought in urgently – perhaps along US lines, where anyone taking
    four or more medicines is reviewed on a monthly basis, while those
    taking less than this are subject to a quarterly review.

    Correctly used, anti-psychotics have a
    sedating and calming effect. But side-effects can be grave:
    cognitive impairment, uncontrolled involuntary movements (tardive
    dyskinesia), muscular rigidity, constipation, sexual dysfunction,
    seizures and depression. There is also evidence that the use of
    these drugs actually accelerates the development of dementia.

    And it seems that older people are not the
    only ones being prescribed drugs to make them easier to handle.
    Research reveals routine use of psychoactive drugs on prison
    inmates, including those without mental health problems, to calm
    them down. Figures indicate that about half of all female prisoners
    are likely to be on medication, compared to a fifth of male
    prisoners. Former chief inspector of prisons Sir David Ramsbotham
    expressed his concerns about the level of prescribing to women in
    prisons, especially the combining of anti-depressants,
    tranquillisers and night sedation, as long ago as 1997.

    This still goes on, says Medacs Forensics
    Services, which provides health care services to prisons. It
    carried out a health care audit of Holloway prison in 2000. The
    report, which was never published, suggests that drugs were
    dispensed in uncontrolled ways and without thought to their
    appropriateness. Medacs concludes that “the overall impression in
    terms of the prescribing and dispensing of medication…was one of
    a serious lack of control, which, in view of the nature of the
    environment, afforded considerable risk”.

    Whether prisoners can really have consented to
    taking these drugs is a moot point. Treatment in prison is not
    covered under the Mental Health Act 1983, so patients treated
    without consent are also not covered by the act’s safeguards.

    This might account for the alarming difference
    between the number of women being prescribed drug treatment before
    and after they enter prison. According to the Office of National
    Statistics last year, just 17 per cent of women were prescribed
    drugs acting on the central nervous system before imprisonment.
    This rose to 50 per cent once they were in prison.

    As well as the possibility of debilitating
    side-effects, evidence suggests that the misuse of these drugs can
    result in people being misdiagnosed as suffering from mental health
    problems. This, in turn, can lead to a prescription for further
    inappropriate medication, compounding the problem (see panel).

    According to a report published this week by
    rehabilitation agency Nacro, there is a wealth of anecdotal
    evidence to suggest that powerful anti-psychotics and
    tranquillisers such as Melleril and Largactil are being prescribed
    at high levels within women’s prisons.2

    The Nacro report argues that the prison
    service needs to “get away from the mindset which automatically
    reaches for the prescription pad as a response to a cry for help
    and instead to promote adherence to the principle of prescribing
    according to therapeutic need”.

    During research for her book on women in
    prisons, inmates told author Angela Devlin that Valium was “doled
    out like Smarties”.3 She also says she saw “zombified”
    women doped up on large doses of Largactil (used to manage manic
    depression) and suggests that its use was primarily to control them
    rather than to help them come to terms with their situation.

    To be fair, Devlin says that it is not always
    entirely the prisons’ fault – women often arrive at prison with
    prescriptions for anti-depressants and tranquillisers from their
    own GPs. Women coming into prison are often in “a great deal of
    distress”, but according to Devlin most want counselling rather
    than drugs.

    The Prison Reform Trust wants an audit of drug
    prescribing in prison and a protocol developed for prescribing for
    women prisoners monitored by the NHS. It also wants increased
    access to counselling and psychiatrists as a first port of call,
    says Finola Farrant, research and development officer.

    “Deprivation of freedom is intrinsically bad
    for mental health and imprisonment has the potential to cause
    significant mental harm,” she says. “The almost automatic reaching
    for medication in prisons may have little to do with the
    therapeutic value of treatment and more to do with controlling
    those who are frustrated, lonely, isolated and depressed.”

    1 P Burstow, R Stokoe,
    Keep Taking the Medicine? Liberal Democrats,
    2001

    2 S Kesteven, Women who
    Challenge
    , Nacro, 2002

    3 A Devlin, Invisible
    Women: What’s Wrong with Women’s Prisons?, Waterside
    Press, 1998

    ‘I spiralled into two years of medication
    dependency…’

    In June 1999 Alicia Bentley (not her real
    name) was sent to Holloway prison. Distraught at being separated
    from her 14-year-old daughter and husband, she was immediately put
    on medication – anti-psychotic Melleril and Librium (an
    anti-anxiety agent used to relieve anxiety and sometimes for acute
    alcohol withdrawal, although she was not an alcoholic) – to calm
    her down.

    “Outwardly I was numbed, inwardly I was
    spiralling into depression, loneliness, isolation, frustration and
    the most incredible internal pain. There was no one to help me,”
    she says.

    “The pain inside became so intense that on
    many occasions the only way I could stop this would be to cause
    myself physical pain. I would bang my head on a wall or radiator
    until my forehead, eyes and cheeks were a mass of bruises.”

    She blamed her behaviour on a panic attack,
    and was given Valium, Prothiadin, Largactil and Prozac. She soon
    became addicted to Valium: “I am not someone with mental health
    issues, but I became someone with mental health issues.”

    Bentley believes that women are in danger of
    becoming mentally ill during their incarceration, and that her
    suffering was increased by being put on medication and then taken
    off it at a moment’s notice whenever there was a change of nurse or
    doctor.

    This happened on two occasions: once with
    Librium when she suffered panic attacks and became suicidal; and
    then with Valium when she collapsed and started hallucinating and
    feeling paranoid.

    “I went into jail free of medication and with
    no history of depression or mental health issues. I then spiralled
    downwards into two years of medication dependency along with many
    mental health issues that I may never have had to endure.”

    Bentley believes that without the intervention
    of a counsellor, there was a chance she “may not be here today in
    body; but an even stronger danger I may not have been here in
    mind”.

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