They talk about the difficulty of making the bed right in Basic Military Training. But they're called "hospital corners" for a reason, too.
I lived in an inpatient facility...a psychiatric youth hospital called Rivendell, twice. (You might recognize that place name from Tolkien. It's where the Fellowship of the Ring is convened in "Lord of the Rings", and where Frodo goes later to recover with the elves.) Today it's called Copper Hills Youth Center.
I also served in the Air Force, and the beds in Basic Training were not as good as the ones at Rivendell. They were also easier to make, and inspection was far less intense.
I often wondered what I had done that could be so serious, to put me in that youth hospital. I was told, going in the first time, that my ADD medication caused my heart to beat irregularly, and they wanted to supervise me there.
For some reason the doctors wanted my consent to stay there, and that's what I was told for them to get it. I don't think the other kids there were asked at all.
Then, in group sessions at Rivendell, I was told over and over that I was in denial, and I needed to come clean about the things I'd done.
The unit I was in housed about thirty children. We ate all of our meals there, in the cafeteria. We went to our one large school class together there every day. We were dutifully searched by the staff any time we were exposed to our parents or visitors. We were let through large double doors with magnetic locks and key switches on the wall by the staff any time we went for a meal, or to class, or to see family, or really anywhere outside of the area with the rooms we lived in.
There was a "Pink Room", there at Rivendell. It had pink rubber walls and floor, and nothing else except a solid door and a video camera where one wall met the ceiling. It was reserved for the worst kids, in their worst times.
Actually there was one step worse than the Pink Room, and that was being strapped to your bed by the staff so they could wait out a bad episode. That never happened to me.
I did go to the Pink Room, once. I don't remember the details. I disagreed with a member of staff, and though I never shouted or misbehaved, they decided to send me in there anyway. It was humiliating for a "good kid" like me, who never had a reason to be tied down or sent to the Pink Room before.
Once another kid stole candy from me, and I reported it.
Staff took it up with him, and after being threatened with the Pink Room he lashed out, and did get strapped down. I regretted having told, and never reported on another kid there again. I felt horrible that it had gone that way.
There were daily inspections, and (at a minimum, if nobody got in trouble) weekly room searches at Rivendell. I quickly learned how to make the bed right, and make my things appear orderly so that they wouldn't all be on the floor after a search for contraband.
Like in prison, we weren't allowed to have money. The one piece of contraband I hid in my room was a $10 bill that was in the spine of my LDS scripture Bible. I liked having that little bit of money to myself, even though there was nowhere to spend it. Sometimes the staff would take us to the commissary and let us spend some of our account money. I only ever had a dollar or two in there.
At Rivendell, I met kids who were criminals. Most of them had hurt people, and after not cooperating with whatever was mandated, they were sent there.
I dug deep in those group therapy sessions. Obviously nobody was there for no reason. What horrible thing had I done?
My two stays at Rivendell both happened before I was caught shoplifting at 13.
