‘He still features in my nightmares’: how a sinister psychiatrist put hundreds of women in deep, drug-induced comas

‘He still features in my nightmares’: how a sinister psychiatrist put hundreds of women in deep, drug-induced comas

In the 1960s, William Sargant used a combination of narcosis and ECT to ‘reprogram’ troubled young women. Now his patients, including the actor Celia Imrie and the former model Linda Keith, are trying to piece together what happened

From the reinforced windows of ward five, high up in the Edwardian eaves of London’s Royal Waterloo hospital for children and women, a 14-year-old Celia Imrie used to stare down, hoping to spot her mother. “When I walk past that old, redbrick hospital building today, on my way to the Imax or the National Theatre,” says Imrie, who went on to become a successful actor, “I can see the window where I’d sit waiting for her and a deep chill passes through me.”

Every day, thousands of commuters and tourists pass beneath the former hospital. Some might look up to admire the terracotta facade, with its ornate colonnades and glazed tile lettering, but few are aware of the medical horrors that took place in one small room on the top floor: the Sleep Room. It was here, on ward five, that female patients – they were almost always women – were put to sleep for three to four months (in one case, five), only roused from their beds to be fed, washed and given electroconvulsive therapy (ECT): a shock of up to 110 volts that passed bilaterally through the temporal lobe of the brain, triggering a grand mal seizure.

Continue reading… In the 1960s, William Sargant used a combination of narcosis and ECT to ‘reprogram’ troubled young women. Now his patients, including the actor Celia Imrie and the former model Linda Keith, are trying to piece together what happenedFrom the reinforced windows of ward five, high up in the Edwardian eaves of London’s Royal Waterloo hospital for children and women, a 14-year-old Celia Imrie used to stare down, hoping to spot her mother. “When I walk past that old, redbrick hospital building today, on my way to the Imax or the National Theatre,” says Imrie, who went on to become a successful actor, “I can see the window where I’d sit waiting for her and a deep chill passes through me.”Every day, thousands of commuters and tourists pass beneath the former hospital. Some might look up to admire the terracotta facade, with its ornate colonnades and glazed tile lettering, but few are aware of the medical horrors that took place in one small room on the top floor: the Sleep Room. It was here, on ward five, that female patients – they were almost always women – were put to sleep for three to four months (in one case, five), only roused from their beds to be fed, washed and given electroconvulsive therapy (ECT): a shock of up to 110 volts that passed bilaterally through the temporal lobe of the brain, triggering a grand mal seizure. Continue reading… Psychiatry, Books, Culture, Society, Health & wellbeing, Life and style, Doctors, Mental health, Women, Health, Women, Women’s health, Celia Imrie 

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