Medical records confirm that safeguarding measures were initiated by Sally Mungall immediately following the ‘review’ meeting on the 13th January, 2022. One referral made its way via the Community Mental Health Team at The Bridge Centre, Basingstoke and straight to the Crisis Resolution Home Treatment Team ( CRHTT ) at Parklands Hospital in Basingstoke. Another referral made its way to Adult Services Hampshire.

Sally also called my GP at Brambly Grange, Basingstoke and spoke to Dr Kashif Minhas at 3.26 that afternoon. I wasn't made aware of this until I accessed medical records exactly eight months later on the 13th October, 2022. Those records confirmed that Sally had lied about me. Sadly, this wasn't the first time that she misled others with a duty of care over me. Sadly, it wasn't going to be the last.

I didn’t sleep well that night and woke early the following morning. It seemed likely that I was going to receive some potentially distressing telephone calls and I had been mentally rehearsing conversations. I checked in on Meg and found that she was sleeping soundly. I made sure that doors were closed between her room and mine. We lived in a tiny hovel of a flat and sounds carried easily from one end of the property to the other. I didn’t even own a mobile phone at the time and would need to take calls from the landline in my bedroom.

I remember being restless, possessed by a feverish, prickly agitation and unable to relax or even sit down. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a black cloud of doom descended like some monstrous prehistoric bat. I felt dizzy, unsteady on my feet and thought I was going to faint. I lay down on my bed and resigned myself to a severe panic attack. I knew I had recently experienced similar discomforting episodes of breathlessness, dizziness and inexplicable fear but this was far worse. Luckily, Meg slept undisturbed and unaware.   

When the first call rang through I had somewhat recovered myself. I snatched the receiver from its cradle, anxious not to wake my daughter. The caller introduced himself as Bill and told me he was calling from Crisis ( CRHTT ). He seemed nice enough; there was warmth in his tone and reassurance with his words.

Crisis teams, often referred to as Crisis Resolution Home Treatment Teams, help those of us in need urgent mental health support, for example, because of psychosis, severe self-harm or suicide attempts. The Crisis team, which typically includes psychiatrists, mental health nurses and social workers can visit people at A&E, police stations, schools or at home, typically to assess needs associated with mental health.

I am not sure if the NHS makes formal use of the Robert’s seven-stage crisis intervention as a model for crisis management. The seven-stage crisis intervention model involves 1) a rapid biopsychosocial assessment, 2) creating collaborative rapport with the client, 3) defining the crisis, 4) an emotional exploration, 5) generating coping strategies, 6) restoring function using an action plan, and 7) following up with the client. Bill’s cursory assessment covered five of those stages

He encouraged me to talk and I gave a fairly concise account of the more prominent adversities that plagued my lived experiences. I freely accounted for Meg’s own mental health issues and my struggles as a single dad and main carer. The core of the intervention was addressed towards my suicidal ideation. Bill listened attentively to my long term plans and determined that I was not in immediate danger. If he had decided that I was at risk of imminent self-harm then plans would have been made to hospitalise me, or in familiar parlance, 'section' me. I don’t think I understood it in that way at the time. I have since become intimately familiar with the process involved in sectioning and now understand that Bill needed to determine whether I should be detained under Section 2 of the Mental Health act. We came to a mutual agreement that I be recommended for a  ‘SOON’ assessment at CMHT, The Bridge Centre.

Towards the end of our conversation Bill addressed my panic attack. He explained the Adrenaline Cycle, introducing me to long and short-term strategies for managing extreme stress responses and, particularly, the STOPP technique borrowed from Cognitive Behavioural Therapy ie, STOP, TAKE A BREATH, PULL BACK and PROCEED. That brought an end to his evaluation. I thanked him for his time and we said goodbye. Crisis had been postponed, kicked further down the road, more like an unstable grenade than a tin can.

The second call rang through shortly after. This time the caller was a woman representing Hampshire Adult Services. Her name, she told me, was Claire. Claire was appropriately empathic and kind with her words but the advice she offered eventually proved misleading, the hope that was promised was actually false.

This second telephone conversation of the day was much shorter than the first. I found myself repeating much of what I had just explained to Bill from Crisis, relating my daughter’s mental health issues  and my own concerns as a single dad and main carer. Claire assured me that a formal adult services assessment for Meg would take place within 14 days. Yet, by the 4th February, no one from Hampshire Adult Services had attempted to call me. I telephoned them, giving full details. I was told that Claire was unavailable but assured that a message would be forwarded and that she would call back after the weekend. She did not call back. I waited until the 16th February and telephoned Hampshire Adult Services to ask again about the assessment.  I was told that someone would call back in two days but no one did. Later that same day I visited my GP, Dr Dougan and agreed to start taking Mirtazapine, an anti-depressant.

A desperate email sent by me on the 28th February, 2022 prompted a response from a more senior member of Hampshire Adult Services who telephoned shortly after. I explained that I was under extreme duress, that my daughter was suffering and that my own mental health was rapidly deteriorating. I was explicit in drawing attention to my suicidal ideation. The woman on the other end of the line was clearly frustrated with me. She told me that the advisement made by Claire on the 14th February was wrong, that I should never have been promised a 14 day turnaround for Meg’s adult services assessment. Her department was 'busy'. She advised me that Meg would be assessed very soon and that was the end of that particular conversation.

Exact details and dates are a little patchy at this point, understandably so. I was severely depressed and found it increasingly difficult to focus. I do recollect that there was at least one other telephone call by a social worker from Hampshire Adult Services who  made assurances that she was making arrangements to visit Meg at home the following week but she never turned up. She didn’t even think us worth the courtesy of a polite apology or explanation for not turning up. And all the while Meg festered in bed, apathetic and overwhelmed by the complexities and rituals associated with extreme OCD. I felt impotent, voiceless and powerless. Crisis had peaked.

Almost nine weeks were allowed to slip into oblivion, missed opportunity punctuated by false promises and panic attacks before a social worker was finally assigned to Meg. We met Phoebe Evans for the first time when she visited us at home on the 29th March, 2022 but she had arrived too late. I had already made plans.