Fake mental health patients

Some of you might want to crucify me for mentioning ‘fake’ patients but hold on. Wait until you’ve finished reading this post.



I was still in my six month preceptorship period when Pauline was admitted to Lavender Ward, an acute inpatient mental health ward. She was neat and tidy, her hair and nails were spotless, she appeared cheerful and engaged easily with the other patients while waiting to be assessed. However, during her admission assessment she relayed that she had been living on the streets, she was paranoid, depressed, anxious and suicidal – she’d actually been seen by passers bye running across a main road several times, without looking out for traffic, according to the paramedics who brought her in.

Pauline was articulate, she maintained good eye contact with me and smiled appropriately during the assessment. She said she had no family at all and had lost her friends since becoming ‘mad’ and homeless – though she couldn’t remember for how long. Pauline reported that she slept well although she had paranoid dreams, which didn’t wake her. The paranoia she described was that someone was after her and wanted to kill her but she couldn’t be clear about when this happened or who it was that wanted to kill her.

Once seen and admitted by a nurse, the patient’s baseline observations are taken i.e. blood pressure, temperature, pulse, respirations, height, weight etc. All of which were stable. After this, the patient would be seen by the ward doctor, normally an SHO, a junior doctor who is on their six month rotation and has little psychiatric knowledge.


We had a tall, handsome and smarmy (oops, I mean polite) young chap, Dr Wellar, who looked down his nose whenever a nurse approached him. This was only his second week on the ward and I did tell him one day, “these nurses know way more than you do, and you ought to treat them with the respect they deserve.” That marked my card with him, I’m afraid.

Dr Smarmy stood to greet Pauline and, shaking her hand, he invited her to sit in ‘his’ office for a chat. She was in heaven, all smiles and giggling like a teenager. So I wasn’t sure why, when they’d finished her assessment, he announced to the team that she needs to be on close obs (There’s lots of circumstances where patients may require one to one nursing i.e. the patient is acutely physically unwell and/or requires frequent observations, the patient is acutely mentally ill and/or at immediate risk of serious self harm/suicide etc).

Depending on the level of risk, one to one nursing can be carried out by either a qualified nurse or a nursing assistant. Pauline was classed as high risk of suicide so needed to be observed by a qualified nurse 24/7, which includes when the patient goes to the loo. This takes one person from the staff numbers i.e. reducing the amount of staff by one. If you are nursing one to one, you cannot be expected to care for your five patients on top of this. Sometimes, the Trust allowed us to have an extra member of staff, more often a nursing assistant, to keep costs down.

As I’d done Pauline’s initial assessment, I was allocated as her 1:1 nurse so I spent the rest of that morning’s shift with her. We chatted about the weather, her dog and how she was worried about him – she didn’t know where he was. Pauline’s mum works “oh, I mean worked” as a teacher but she couldn’t remember the name of the school. I just kept the conversation light and said how proud she must have been of her mum etc. But something just didn’t sit right with me and I passed all this onto the afternoon shift.


On my next shift, I was allocated to Pauline, 1:1, as apparently she liked me and we’d built up a good rapport. Again we chatted amiably about her past – what she could remember of it – she said her depression was affecting her memory. Obviously I had to accompany her while she showered and went to the loo, but to give her some privacy and to maintain her dignity, I averted my eyes temporarily. However, she was inappropriate at times, dropping her towel, not able to find her knickers, could I pass her the toilet paper or her wet wipes – almost anything to keep my attention.

Let me tell you something now; it’s no fun being in a bathroom when someone else has to poop and it’s worse still when you have to get close enough to pass the toilet paper.

Towards the end of one shift, she told me how sad she was that I’d be off over the weekend as she really enjoyed out chats. At the end of my shift she really invaded my personal space when she threw her arms around me and planted a great big kiss on each cheek “Adios. Au revoir. Bye my angel nurse. I will miss you.” I kid you not.

I’d really enjoyed my days off but still looked forward to getting back to work. On my return, as I walked through the front door to the ward, I was almost past the Dr’s office when Smarmy called me in, “Can’t you even get one thing right? You only had to look after one person – how hard can it be?” he demanded and shook his head at me disdainfully. “Pauline said you left her in the shower for nearly 20 minutes and she tried to kill herself.” I shook my head back at him, I smiled and assured him that this was simply not true.

He continued berating and belittling me until he took a breath and I simply responded that I was off to see our Ward Manager. She believed and trusted me that it simply wasn’t true. He’d been ‘had’ but obviously this was the story he was re-telling the whole multi-disciplinary team, making me look incompetent. However, he took in what the ward manager said to him and conceded he might be wrong.


In the meantime, I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I was hurt by Pauline’s tale; I thought we’d formed a good professional bond. One of our senior nurses said not to worry, don’t take it personally and reflect on this; trust me, you will learn from it.

I had to work with Pauline a few more shifts and just kept up the banter but didn’t mention the ‘incident’ and nor did she. Had I been a bit more experienced I would have discussed it with her but right at that moment, I didn’t want to upset her – there was something going on for her? and I was still trying to work her out.

After a week, we had a phone call from her mother, asking if we had a Josephine on the ward. Yes, it turns out this is something Pauline does now and again. She frequents hospitals seeking admission because she said ‘she gets a bed and fed’. In the meantime, she saves up her benefit money while she’s in whatever hospital. Some might say that this is a mental illness in itself?


This young lad had been admitted voluntarily after he went to A&E saying he was paranoid and hearing voices. He was amiable and loved chatting with fellow patients and the staff. He could be heard asking other patients why they were in hospital and was interested in hearing about their symptoms. After a few days staff could see that he wasn’t displaying any symptoms of anxiety, paranoia or hearing voices and had hinted as much to Ronnie.


Late one night shift, we watched as he paced the long corridor outside the nursing office. He had his head cocked to one side, looking up towards the heavens’, and was saying out loud “Sorry. Say that again. I can’t hear you.” He gave the odd sideways glance towards the office to see if anyone was watching him and continued, “Don’t say that. I’m scared. You’re scaring me.”

Me and Billy, my favourite nurse, found this rather comical and went to sit outside to observe Ronnie and start a conversation with him. Billy asked “What are the voices saying to you Ronnie?” and Ronnie cocked his head to one side, looked upwards again and asked “What are you saying? Ah, ok, hold on.” and in all seriousness, he turned to Billy and said “They’re saying they don’t like you. They don’t want me to talk to you.”

I could barely keep a straight face as I probed a little further, “Okay, tell me Ronnie, how many voices are there?” He did the cocked head thing and the upward glance then cupped his ear, as though he was listening, then counting on his spare hand he looked at me and whispered, “two – and they said they like you.”

We continued in this vein for around fifteen minutes before Billy and I just laughed out loud. Ronnie’s utterances were becoming more ludicrous by the minute and Billy said as much to him, “Hey, soft lad. You look bloody stupid. You’re not hearing voices are you?” Ronnie knew the game was up and pleaded with us not to tell the doctors, “Anyway, they can’t send me home, I don’t have anywhere to go. They’ll have to find me a flat, won’t they?”

Emergency Treatment Team


I worked with the Emergency Team for a while. This was where people would come during daytime hours to be assessed and we, as nurses, would decide whether to admit someone or to refer them to another service i.e. home treatment team (HTT).

We had so many ‘fake’ patients asserting their mental illness rights, looking for admission so we could find them a home with a garden. Or they needed housing application forms completed, saying that they had a mental illness, which they hoped would put them near the top of the the already groaning housing list or benefit forms so they could access Disability Living Allowance.

Many reported being depressed but when asked to explain, some would say they’ve got a bad back and needed a ground floor flat as the stairs were difficult. Or excruciating headaches due to noisy, antisocial neighbours and it’s driving them mad so they need to move. As though getting a new home would somehow magic away their pain and depression. While I appreciate that decent housing is beneficial to everyone, admission to a mental health ward is not. Furthermore, housing lists are stretched to their limits and London now requires around 66,000 new homes a year to provide enough homes for current and future Londoners.

Given that our hospital served the local population which was approximately 52% non white-British, we had patients from nearly every country and many of them needed interpreters. When they mentioned housing or benefit forms, I always asked them via the interpreter “Do you know where you are right now?” and “Do you know this is a mental health emergency department?” And often told them “This is not a housing services.” or “This is not a benefit office.” before signposting them to the appropriate services

The thing is, we had thousands of patients with chronic mental illnesses who desperately needed our support and mental health intervention or treatment. Moreover, Mental Health is like the Cinderella service of the NHS and we don’t get lots of money so what little we do get is needed for ‘real’ patients.

Do you think I was harsh in turning patients away?

Author: mentalhealth360.uk

Mum to two amazing sons. Following recovery from a lengthy psychotic episode, depression, anxiety and anorexia, I decided to train as a Mental Health Nurse and worked successfully in various settings before becoming a Ward Manager. I am a Mental Health First Aid Instructor and a Mental Health Awareness Trainer, Mental Health First Aid Youth and Mental Health Armed Forces Instructor. Just started my mental health from the other side blog.

42 thoughts on “Fake mental health patients”

  1. No, I think this is a true statement. There are people out there who claim they are “Mentally Ill” and know how to play the system. While other’s who are actually suffering need help.

  2. As someone seeking genuine help for genuine issues, it angers me that these people have hogged precious resources for selfish means. I get that they might have needed “help” but certainly not that kind and not there either. People wonder why there are still stigmas about mental health? This is why.

    1. I get it Steve and it made me angry too – as a nurse – but I had to remain professional. Once or twice when I really bonded with the ‘patient’ I was able to tell them “This is not the place for you – look around you – look how chronic some people are. Is this what you want, to be wasting away on a mental health ward?” and “Do you actually know how much it costs each day to treat people who are really unwell?” Don’t start me lol. Caz x

      1. I keep thinking to myself that I’d feel safer in a hospital. The thought of it is actually really calming and pleasant to me. One of the biggest difficulties with the anxiety is not feeling safe, it’s a constant dread. I still wouldn’t check myself into a mental health ward or anything like that though as I know that there are people out there who need it more. If I became a danger to myself, I would act accordingly.

      2. Do you know what Steve, I think you wouldn’t feel safe on the wards. With acute mental health patients, it can be quite chaotic and frightening. I know it would have made me worse when I was depressed, had anxiety and panic attacks. And you need support just as much as any one else with a mental health problem. It isn’t just the diagnosis we look at, it’s the impact it’s having on someone’s daily living – and you sound like you have a terrible time.

      3. Yeah, I can imagine it isn’t a very peaceful place to be with some really troubled patients being in attendance. The smell and feel of a hospital just feels safe in general, almost like if I’m ill, people won’t try to hurt me. As crazy as that probably sounds. I know in my sane brain that nobody is trying to hurt me but feeling unsafe is the most terrifying part of the anxiety. I’m really all over the place and it feels worse because of the moments where I’m clear and calm. Makes the fall feel harder.

      4. It isn’t much to ask at all. I’m sick of being scared, my stomach is in knots again as we speak. I don’t even fully understand why either.

      5. Yesterday was a bit rotten with the awful mental health nurse appointment. Really left me feeling like I wasn’t supported but my own doctor was brilliant this morning. She’s very considerate and listens well and responds accordingly. Yesterday was a bit of an awful day for me following the bad experience. Sat and cried for half the day.

      6. I just don’t want to go back to her to be honest, I’ve found her pretty unhelpful from the outset. The doctor is excellent though, she isn’t long qualified so she still has a vigour for her job that maybe older doctors lose a little. No disrespect to them but once they’ve seen it all, they’ve seen it all.

  3. Dunno, I suppose it is only when you see the result that you’d know, and I bet you hardly ever saw results. To qualify for anything, even hospital treatment, there has got to be a bar you have to be able to jump over. Otherwise, it is just a service available to everybody on demand, and we’ll pay in our taxes. The most you can do is to try your best to get that decision right.
    In the course of my charity stuff, I meet several people who will willingly tell me they are depressed. I tend to take that with a pinch of salt. The people I worry about never say they are depressed, but they get into a rut where they’re not doing anything, and they just feel this level of lethargy, they have no clue how to get themselves busy again. The stuff I do is in large part phone-based, so there’s not much I can do except satisfy myself that they are seeing their GP.

    1. We saw results all the time by using evidence-based scales i.e. on a scale of 1-10 how bad do you feel? etc. Yes, it takes time to get that decision right and God forbid you make a huge mistake, discharge someone and they die by suicide, or worse, kill someone. This happened to two doctors (one senior and the other Junior) and they never really got over it. Obviously we patients like you’ve suggested: perhaps if they’ve lost a partner and are grieving or they become disabled in some way – they get into a rut. We worked with them briefly to help them become active again and direct them to the right support i.e. bereavement counselling. Thanks for your input Pete, I really appreciate it. Caz x

      1. Yeah loss of a partner is a biggie, especially one they nursed. Just leaves a vacuum. Although some are glad to finally see the back of them! I suppose it shows how the different generations view something like divorce.

      2. Those 1-10 tests sound like fun, btw, especially on a mental health ward. On a scale of 1-10, how likely are you to give me a sensible answer? I’ve just been speaking to daughter, which triggered this thought, but she used to say 11 every time to those questions. Real Spinal Tap.

  4. Fun with voices! Holy geez, as an actual schizophrenic, I’d never do this (fake the system). But from reading this, it sounds as if there are serious problems in the way your country handles healthcare, housing, etc.

  5. I wish I could get free mental health care. I struggle with depression and anxiety and can’t really afford to pay for counseling because the co-pays are so ridiculous here in the States. I’m sorry people are taking advantage. That has to be so frustrating. I’ve been in the hospital a few times in the past for mental health treatment and it’s no picnic so I don’t get why someone would willingly abuse the system that way. *Sighs*

    1. Oh and it’s a doctors job to see what the current problem is and if that person belong in the mental health system. Showing up unanouced (when not in crisis) without any referrence from your gp or mental health specialist, that is a big red flag.

  6. I have been in treatment in the local ‘mental health ward’. There are only so many beds, so sometimes they have to make tough calls.
    I guess it is based on how urgent a patient needs help.
    I know I wouldn’t want to be the person who has to make the call to decide.

  7. Wow, people fake like that? Reminds me of my PerpBro. Fool thinks he’ll get tea and sympathy with schizophrenia diagnosis (he admitted he envies people with schizophrenia) and get out of his obligations.

  8. It’s so frustrating that there are people out there with real and serious mental health issues that need help but are too afraid of the stigma to ask for it, and then there are people who pretend to have serious issues in order to get a temporary bed or attention. I feel for both, but I wish the system was better equipped to make sure people get the help they truly need rather than only what they ask for.

  9. Thank you for sharing your stories and thoughts. Agree with you wholly. As someone who suffers from mental illness, i find those attempts really offensive to people who really deserve the treatment.

  10. Here where I live the Mental Health Ward only has a set number of beds.
    I know they have had to turn away people. They would do an assessment of the person, only then they would deem the person whether they should be admitted.
    I do not blame the Doctors and their teams because the dollars are tight and it is the administration of each hospital that sets the parameters.
    So, no you are not to blame for turning away people.

  11. Unfortunately I think there will always be people who will try to abuse any system we put in place in good faith. Thank you for all your hard work in the profession and for sharing your stories.

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