St Joseph’s Behavioral Health Center

If I could give ZERO stars I would. By far the worse customer service I’ve ever dealt with in any professional setting. When you’re talking to hospital staff, they’re not welcoming and reassuring that you or your family member is being taken care of. There’s no positive talk or plan of attack in order to get to a resolution so you can once again be reunited with your loved ones. They’re antagonistic and talk down to you as if you don’t know what’s going on. Living in Sacramento, it’s not convenient to have my mom admitted to a facility in Stockton. When asked how I could facilitate a transfer, Case Manager Tiffany Poier, had no help in answering and trying to make it happen. She was snappy and short when discussing my mother’s condition. Had she actually cared, she wouldn’t have been so quick to get off of the phone and pass on my request to the actual case manager who wasn’t in today. Tiffany Poier refused to let me speak with the psychiatrist and when asked why she had an attitude with me, she said that she didn’t loudly as she hung up on me. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND NO ONE to this facility and I hope that I can get my mom out ASAP. I also hope that Ms Poier is never put into a position of being a patient where she’s poorly treated like she had treated me on the phone. It’s absolutely unnecessary and inexcusable for someone in her line of work.

Okay St. Joe’s, let’s go.
The reason I was in here may have been entirely my fault, but the way they treated me was sort of ridiculous. Yeah, I downed a few bottles of pills. That doesn’t mean I can’t hold a conversation or think intelligently or be a functioning person, but here they literally treat everyone like they’re basically incapable of being human.
Dr. Zia is hands down the worst psychiatrist I’ve had to deal with in my process of mental health. Her approach was abrupt, rude, and really unpersonable. The first time I saw her I was sitting on my bed, already uncomfortable and beaten down, she walked in and simply asked me «why’d you try to kill yourself.» Like, alright. Clearly, I’m already on edge because I’m locked in a facility and uhm, almost died two days ago. AND HOW THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT ME TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION? Well, duh, because I didn’t want to be alive anymore. Why? Well that’s obviously not an easy question to answer, and I just feel like maybe as a psychiatrist you should be a litttttle more sensitive to that whole subject. It wasn’t only the fact she asked that question, but the fact she seemed so cold and rude when she asked it. The only other question she asked was how I was feeling, a typical question that I will never understand how they expect me to answer. After I responded instead of trying to get me to calm down or assess further, she simple walked away without any response or questioning. Two days later I got notice saying my hold was up but that Dr. Zia had said I can’t leave until a hearing on Monday, essentially making me stay for two more days. Okay, sure — but it would have been nice if she told ME that straight up instead of just walking away with no response. I’m still a human being and I think I deserve at least the decency of you telling me what you’re going to do to me.
They reminded me everyday to wash my hands and perform basic living functions. I get it, some people may need that kind of effort and I completely value and respect that, but nobody looked at me as an individual. This faculty seem to lump everyone into one category of «mentally ill» and didn’t see the differences in the variety of reasons/​causes/​things that happen, that maybe different people need a little different approach. Yes, this is a place simply to keep us safe, but it’d also be nice if they recognized we’re still, ya know … unique individuals.
Besides that fact, I noticeably heard staff making fun of patients that were less … coherent and aware. Like, directly cracking jokes at the expense of their conditions. Are you freaking kidding me? This may be «just» your job, but have some respect. It’s pathetic. Yeah, the staff seemed like cool people, maybe if I meet them on the «outside» — but so many of them seemed to be talking high school gossip and then turning around to treat us like we were somehow «less than» them.
Also, why the hell are you giving me cigarettes and then telling me there is no exercise in here? Or questioning how many books I want in my room. UHM, do you want me to smoke to cope?
The one thing I can really say I valued from this place was Patty. She was the one nurse who geninuely treated me like a fellow human being. When I was upset she took me aside and TALKED to me. So thank you to her, you are the little heart of gold in this place. Oh, and the cafeteria folks were nice — the food was better than other hospitals I’ve been too.
Maybe this is just the way our whole system considers mental health, maybe it’s the fact they want us to never want to come back there, but whatever it is this place is rather terrible and didn’t do my soul much good.

My Mother was recently admitted to St. Joseph’s behavioral health. She was admitted with behavior related to dementia. After she was admitted we received a call from her case worker telling us that there would be a hearing to determine her mental fitness. The purpose of the hearing was to determine if she could be held for more than 72 hrs.
When I arrived for the hearing the case worker who was supposed to be at the hearing had called in sick and I quickly realized that his replacement really had no idea what was going on with my mom. During the hearing the she attempted to answer questions concerning my mother’s mental fitness, but it was apparent that she was ill prepared to do so.
At the conclusion of the hearing the hearing officer told us that my mother could leave. I told my mother we would have her out that day, but due to the fact that the Doctor had not finished his report she would not be allowed to leave until the following day.
After her departure we never received a diagnosis or recommended course of treatment. After failing to receive a call back from stall, I finally called to speak with the administrator to explain the situation, but was told that he would be tied up all week!
I would think very carefully before agreeing to send a family member to this facility. I think the most troubling thing is that patient’s do not seemed to be segregated based on their specific problem. They are just mixed in with the general population. My mother was terrified the whole time she was there and we regretted are decision to have her evaluated there.

I admitted myself voluntarily with my dad and girlfriend at the time. I was hypo-​manic and needed medical care. Dr. Zia was the doctor I spoke with and assured me I would be on a 5150 voluntary hold.
When it was time to take medication, the medications I was given did not match the medication discussed with the doctor. I was given, Lithium, Geodon, Ativan and a sleep aid (ambien). The only medications I discussed with the doctor were Lithium and Seroquel. I was not familiar with Geodon or Ativan, so I opted to take Lithium only. The staff member, Barbara, would not provide information regarding the doctor’s order for the other meds. I was told that the information I was asking for did not need to be provided to me. I was told the doctor ordered them, but because it went against the medication strategy we discussed, I didn’t trust the staff, the nurse or what I was being told at the time. They were also resistant to providing me with the medication information, so I could review side effects and potential challenges. After much debate and asserting myself, they provided the information. After reading it, I declined the medication because I did not feel it would be healthy for my body. Barbara explained that if I did not take the medication, they would give them to me anyway. She said I would be given injections. I sat down near a video camera half-​dome and waited. I had hoped if they held me down, there would be some kind of evidence. Anywhere from 6 – 8 individuals approached me, one with two syringes. I was in fear… fear for my life. I struggled, and eventually was forced to the floor, my pants ripped down, and the injections were given to me against my will… in each cheek of my buttocks. Then I was taken to the seclusion room and I was strapped face down. I do not know how long I was there. The medications knocked me out. Many days after, I was paranoid and I feared my life. I was in fear this kind of treatment would happen again. What they did was illegal. I asked to leave and because of the incident, they explained I was on a 5250 hold. I had to play their game in order to escape. I say escape because I was held against my will, my insurance was billed over 30K+ dollars and I was personally billed as well.