Stop Oxevision

Content note: sexual abuse

Although I was just escorted down one flight of stairs, from the acute ward to the psychiatric intensive care unit, the culture shift was  huge. It felt like being thrown from the top of the stairs and hitting every step on the way down.

I was grateful that, amidst the unfamiliar and hostile staff, there was a support worker I had known since my first admission, five years previous. Wards are chaotic and scary – a familiar face offers great comfort. 

Part way through my admission, Oxevision technology was introduced on the ward.  We were given little information about what it was at the time, except for the marketing tech jargon that staff quoted, which was too complicated for me to understand without being able to access my phone or the internet.

Since discharge, I have learnt that Oxevision is surveillance. Staff can watch patients in their bedroom through an infra-red sensitive camera and it also tracks patients’ location. It can measure a person’s pulse and breathing rate if there is only one person in the room. This gave the staff on my 1:1 observation an excuse to sit outside the door and out of view of the camera. 

The male support worker I knew from a previous admission was the only member of staff who asked me to sit in the hallway next to him because he “preferred me close” and could observe me better. The cameras did not prevent him from sexually abusing me. 

I’m still unsure when it started, when the conversations turned manipulative, and his actions became sexual. It began with seemingly innocent hand holding and then escalated to foot rubs that worked their way further up my leg each shift. What first seemed like genuine concern about my previous drug use became overzealous questions about sexual encounters I had had under the influence. 

Alongside the touching and the questions, he slipped in subtle warnings about the consequences of patients making complaints or allegations against staff and the impact this had on their families. For example, he would say they may be left unable to feed their young children or become homeless. 

He also recounted the same story over and over again where, apparently, I had reported him for ‘something’ – but he wouldn’t tell me what.  He’d smile and say “but don’t worry, I told them you made it up and they believed me”.

His motto was “deny don’t lie”.

It took some time for me to comprehend what was happening, and after the initial thrill of being desired I developed an uncomfortable knot in my stomach. But by this time, it felt too late to stop his advances. I was too frightened to speak up, knowing it would affect how I was treated on the ward and leave a stain on my notes and care plan. 

I was scared they would think I was making it up, or worse: blame and punish me. 

At first, I was confused as to why he was interested in me. I had bad acne and was bloated from the medication given against my will. I lived in baggy pyjamas and my teeth often went unbrushed. I had no access to a razor or tweezers and had not seen a hairdresser in over two years. I have come to realise the attraction for him was the abundance of power he had, in comparison to how little I had.

I couldn’t leave the ward. I had no access to a mobile phone or the internet. My visits were supervised by staff and so were the 15-minute phone calls we were permitted to take when the patient phone was working (which it often wasn’t). I was then further isolated on the ward during Covid-19. My room was bare except for my teddy and the one book staff allowed me to keep at a time.

I was vulnerable and detained under the Mental Health Act. The 1:1 observations were supposed to prevent me from harming myself. Instead, I was harmed by them.

I feel sick when I look back and think of the times that I felt I was safe from him, because he wasn’t next to me. He could have been watching me through the Oxevision monitor while I laid in bed unawares and hugging my teddy close.

I didn’t have a shower curtain to block the camera seeing into my bathroom and this is something the Care Quality Commission have raised to the Trust when they inspected the ward. Could he see me in the shower? Could he see me on the toilet? Did he watch me cry? Did he record footage of me on the Oxevision monitors with his mobile for his personal use? Did other staff know? Did the camera add an extra level of risk and excitement for him? 

These are just some of the thoughts that still circle in my brain at night.

Staff controlled surveillance is not safety. 

ANON