Rabu, 18 Februari 2015

Review: Approved Mental Health Practice, edited by Sarah Matthews, Philip O’Hare & Jill Hemmington

The subtitle of this new book is “Essential Themes of Students and Practitioners”, and I would certainly endorse this. This is the only serious text of which I am aware that focuses entirely on professional practice under the Mental Heath Acts of the United Kingdom.


The authors grapple with the conflict between the social work role of empowerment and the AMHP powers that can lead to coercion and the imposition of social and medical control, and this book provides an excellent examination of the tensions existing in the role of the approved mental health practitioner, allowing the student and practitioner to reflect on the role in the context of the wider social perspective.

As the book is directed at an examination of practice under all the UK’s mental health legislation, they generally describe the professional as an “approved mental health practitioner”, so I will continue to use this terminology in this review, and the abbreviation of “AMHP” should be read in this way.

Sarah Matthews starts by posing the question, “Do social workers as approved mental health practitioners struggle to promote a model that views the manifestations of mental health in any way other than the dominant and, some argue, pathological one?” She goes on to outline the fundamental aspects of approved mental health practice. These include the social perspective as being central, as well as the independent nature of the role. She also stresses the importance of emotional engagement, containment and the concept of “dirty work” as contributing to the unique role of the AMHP. She states: “The mother, it is suggested, contains others’ distress without appearing to be affected by it herself and it is this which an approved mental health practitioner might also accomplish.”

I was particularly intrigued by her discussion of work under the MHA as being “dirty work”. Dirty work “describes the notion that people are compelled to play a role in work about which they ought to be a little ashamed, morally… A profession embraces unpleasant tasks as a means of establishing its credibility or undertakes such tasks as a necessary, albeit difficult, element.”

Tim Spencer-Lane provides an analysis of the legal and political factors in England and Wales that led to the revision of the 1983 Act and the creation of Approved Mental Health Professionals. Having practiced under Mental Health Acts since 1981, I have lived through these changes, and have been professionally associated with the issues which eventually led to the 2007 Act. He makes the interesting point that the MHA 2007 “was the result of a long and embittered battle between the Government and the major stakeholders about the fundamental purpose of mental health law”, whereas the Mental Capacity Act 2005 was developed in broad consensus and was the culmination of a long consultation process.

Jean Gordon and Roger Davis go on to compare and contrast mental health law in Scotland and Northern Ireland (although omits the Isle of Man Mental health Act 1998, which, like Northern Ireland, retains the Approved Social Worker).

David Pilgrim makes interesting points about the way in which mental health professionals can make basic assumptions about mental health practice which may be at odds with reality. He makes the point that "third-party interests constantly shape professional decision making and action. Indeed, at its most coercive, mental health work considers the needs of the identified patients only after others are protected from their prospective presence and actions... It is soon evident that public safety and institutional order can dominate staff decision making."

He argues, with some justification, that the MHA in England and Wales is more concerned with controlling mental disorder than with the promotion of mental health. This makes the AMHP role innately coercive, and he poses some challenging questions about the validity of enforcing compulsory treatment with drugs which are at best only moderately effective, and at worst can cause serious harm or even death.

Helen Spandler tackles problems around psychiatric diagnosis, wishing to "equip approved mental health practitioners with the knowledge to question, challenge and understand the broader meaning of mental disorder and diagnosis," in order for us to be "more cautious and thoughtful about the language we use to describe mental health crises."

She reviews the different approaches to diagnosis, from psychiatric, psychological and service user perspectives, often using as examples the ways in which the long term effects of childhood trauma can be interpreted as either normal reactions to extreme life events, or pathology indicating mental illness or disorder.

She suggests that a more useful, and service user centred approach for an AMHP to take is to assess levels of impairment and functioning, rather than diagnosis, to determine access to services and using mental health legislation. While expressing scepticism about the use of diagnosis, she states that "it is important not to let the endorsement or criticism of diagnosis get in the way of decision-making." Any alternative to conventional diagnosis "must result in better consequences for people in terms of gaining the more appropriate support and assistance."

Daisy Bogg examines ethics and values in the context of approved mental health practice, tackling in the process some of the ethical dilemmas inherent in the use of Community Treatment Orders, observing that "approved mental health practitioners serve as a counterbalance to a single dominant medical perspective and are required to provide a more holistic view, and account for the whole circumstances of an individual's situation before making a decision to apply for compulsory admission."

Amanda Taylor and Jill Hemmington's chapter on Diversity in Mental Health sets out to "challenge notions of diversity being simply and solely located within traditional, fixed dimensions and to alternatively view it as being unique to the individual, group and community." They warn that approved mental health practitioners need to be aware that they "belong to a 'dominant social group' that 'maintain systems of privilege and oppression'".

They give as an illustration an in depth analysis of Deafness, including specific case studies, using these to show that "it is vital that as practitioners we can seek that which is outside of the self and consider not only the diversity relating to the other but go some way to working within their 'internal frame of reference' to understand the layers that exist."

They conclude: "Empathy, 'tuning in' and constantly asking oneself questions are the starting points to a thorough, effective assessment that has honesty and collaborative work at its core."

I was particularly intrigued by Anthea Murr and Tamsin Waterhouse's chapter on "The Impact of Time and Place", as it focused on assessments in rural areas. Readers of this blog will be aware that I work predominantly in a rural area; even the towns in my area have populations of less than 30,000. They outline the special factors that can impact on the mental health of people living in rural areas, such as physical, social, cultural, psychological and geographical isolation, as well as the problems of rural poverty, and conclude that practitioners working in rural areas need to have special training and acclimatisation to prepare them for these particular challenges.

Julie Ridley outlines a study of service users’ experiences of mental health legislation in Scotland. Although specific to Scotland, this study is also of relevance to professionals working throughout the UK.

Experiences of compulsion varied from the positive to the negative, perhaps not unexpectedly. Some service users welcomed having “‘responsibility taken away’ and a structure to daily life imposed”, while others described it as a “nightmare” experience.

Philip O’Hare and Gavin Davidson devote a chapter to the role of the Nearest Relative, tracing the history of this role in mental health legislation going back to the 18th century, and its evolution in more recent Mental Health Acts. They make the point that improvements in social work training and the changes to practice brought about by the Seebohm in the 1970’s added to pressure to replace the 1959 Mental Health Act with legislation that recognised the professional competence of social workers. This led to the 1983 Act, where the Approved Social Worker became the preferred applicant in applications for detention.

I was intrigued by the statistic that in the early years following the introduction of the 1983 Act only 1.6% of application were made by Nearest Relatives. I suspect that this figure is now even lower.

Practicing exclusively in England, I did not realise that legislation in Scotland had ended the Nearest Relative role as applicant for detention. I was interested to read that the other parts of this role have been replaced by a “named person”, who is nominated by the patient. Although this seems like an admirable idea, and would obviate the current difficulties that AMHP’s can find in identifying and consulting with the Nearest Relative, this idea was unfortunately not taken up when drafting the 2007 Act.

Philip O’Hare discusses to what extent evidence-based practice can inform approved mental health practice. There is a paucity of evidence on which to base evidence-based practice within mental health legislation,; evidence-based practice is essentially based on the medical model, which can be hard to replicate in a social care context.

O’Hare asks the question “How to AMHP’s make sense of their legal roles being informed by practice, and looks at making decisions based on least restrictive concepts, applying this in particular to the AMHP role in Community Treatment Orders: “how does an AMHP make a distinction between justified and unjustified CTO’s?”

Unfortunately, despite rather sketchy research into the efficacy of CTO’s, it is very difficult to assess the likely beneficial impact of a CTO on any particular individual, other than anecdotal evidence relating to length of time without a hospital admission. How can you test whether the conditions of a CTO have positively influenced a specific patient?

Jill Hemmington examines how AMHP’s have to manage uncertainty, and how one can develop practice wisdom. She makes the point that approved mental health practice “has been described as ‘crisis, mess and muddle’ where Mental Health Act assessments often arise from and within situations where there is ‘panic and confusion’”. She makes an interesting attempt to apply crisis theory to AMHP work, and also points out that “because something is lawful, it is not automatically ethical”.

She poses a number of pertinent questions for an AMHP to consider relating to their practice, for example, “How did I influence the situation through: my presence, my actions, my preconceptions or assumptions, other people’s perceptions of me, my physical well-being on the day?”

The editors conclude that “for an AMHP the focus is on how to interpret and analyse appropriately and avoid any illusion that there can be certainty.”

Each chapter contains reflective questions, which are designed to provoke stimulating discussions in student seminars, and which would also be useful for AMHP’s who are preparing reapproval portfolios to evidence reflective practice and to elicit learning points from professional experience.

I found the book as a whole stimulating and thought-provoking. It was a pleasure to read a book that directly addresses the dilemmas with which I am faced every day of my professional life.

I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone interested in the AMHP role, including those undergoing AMHP training, AMHP’s preparing for reapproval, and social work and mental health nursing students who seek to obtain a deeper understanding of the moral and legal complexities of the role.

Approved Mental Health Practice: Essential Themes for Students and Practitioners
Edited By Sarah Matthews, Philip O'Hare and Jill Hemmington
Palgrave Macmillan, April 2014
ISBN: 1-137-00013-9, 978-1-137-00013-2

The Case of QR: Capacity and Tenancy Agreements

This very recent judgment was published on 5thAugust 2014. It concerns tenancy agreements, and the issue of a person’s capacity to end, or indeed, to take out a tenancy agreement. It also highlights a situation which is covered by neither the Mental Health Act nor the Mental Capacity Act, but requires referral to the Court of Protection for a decision.

QR is a woman of 62. She has a diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia. Her first serious episode was in 1995 at the age of 43, and she has had numerous detentions under both Sec.2 & Sec.3 MHA since then. She was discharged from hospital in December 2010, since when she has been subject to a CTO. Until her most recent admission to hospital, she lived in a local authority flat, and still has the tenancy of this property.

One of the conditions of the CTO is to reside in “ABC”, a residential treatment centre run by the local authority. The mental health team now consider that she no longer needs this level of support. However, the Judge records: “She must live in accommodation which provides 24 hour support and monitoring, so that QR will continue to be compliant with her medication and avoid the risk of a possibly fatal relapse.”

Her team now want her to live in a more independent living situation, but consider that there is too great a risk to her health and safety for her to return to her previous flat. However, QR will need to sign a tenancy agreement in order to move into a supported living flat, and must first surrender her existing tenancy.

In the words of the Judge the crux of the case is that “QR objects to the application on the grounds that she has capacity to decide whether to surrender the tenancy of her current flat and to sign a tenancy agreement for supported living accommodation.  She does not wish to surrender the secure tenancy of her council flat which is important to her and she does not wish to move to any of the proposed supported living options which have been proposed”.

The issue the Judge had to decide was whether or not QR has the capacity to decide where she should live, to surrender the tenancy of her flat and to sign a new tenancy agreement.

The issue of capacity is, of course, situation specific. A person may have the capacity to decide whether or not to have a cup of tea, but may lack the capacity to make a decision about where they should live.

In this particular case, the Judge concluded that “I am satisfied that QR is unable to make the decisions at stake in this case as a result of the nature of her mental illness.” He went on to say that “QR is not able to give weight to the issue of central importance in the arrangements which [the mental health team] propose, the reason why she needs to take her medication.”

This particular case has not yet reached a conclusion. Still to be decided is “what further evidence if any is required in order that a best interests decision on the issues before the court can be made.”

The implications of this case relate to the issue of the ability of someone with a mental disorder of any sort to either take on a tenancy or to relinquish a tenancy.

This has often not been considered when making arrangements for people who may lack capacity in certain areas because of learning difficulties, dementia or mental illness.

From time to time, and for the best possible reasons, professionals working with such people assist them in obtaining accommodation for which that individual will need to make decisions regarding signing or relinquishing a tenancy, and professionals may not consider the issue of whether or not they actually have the capacity to make those decisions.

While a person can be made subject to conditions in a Community Treatment Order, such as a condition to reside in a certain place, this power does not extend to either terminating a tenancy or taking out a tenancy on their behalf.

If the person  subject to such conditions does not have capacity in that area, then any legal decisions they make may be invalid. In such cases, referral to the Court of Protection appears to be the only remedy.

The Dark Side of Love 1: Adjustment Disorders

When Neitzsche said: “There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness” he wasn’t referring to the British 70’s/80’s pop/ska band.

It is certainly true that love and relationships can at times give rise to bizarre and irrational behaviour. Indeed, it has been argued that since the definition of a delusion “is a sustained belief that cannot be justified by reason”, then being “in love” with someone could itself be regarded as a delusional state. But I’m not going to plumb those murky depths today.

There are a number of well defined psychiatric conditions that could be said to arise from, or are manifested as, love and issues with relationships. Some of them are sudden and intense but fleeting, while others may be persistent, insidious and difficult to resolve. Either way, they can present as acute psychiatric emergencies requiring formal assessment under the Mental Health Act.

I would divide these disorders roughly into two types: adjustment disorders, and delusional or psychotic states.

Adjustment Disorders
A good definition of an adjustment disorder is “an emotional and behavioural reaction that develops within 3 months of a life stress, and which is stronger or greater than what would be expected for the type of event that occurred”. This can frequently be precipitated by the ending of a relationship, and in my experience, seems to occur more commonly among men.

Everybody can feel upset, bereft, or even suicidal when a loved one wants to end their relationship. Most people can fairly quickly accommodate and adjust to it, but some people have extreme and bizarre reactions, or develop a complete refusal to accept the reality of the situation. Here are a few examples from my personal experience.

Carl
Carl worked on a pig farm. One day he presented himself at Charwood police station in a state of agitation and distress, saying that he had killed his wife. The body could be found on the farm, buried in a heap of pig slurry. He confessed that he had been clearing the slurry when his wife’s body had emerged. Although he had no memory of it, he concluded that he must have killed her.

The police immediately investigated, searching through tons of pig manure, but did not find the body of Carl’s wife, or indeed anyone else.

They eventually did manage to locate her. She was safe and well, having left Carl a few weeks previously and gone to live somewhere else in the country. Nothing untoward had happened between them.

It was as if Carl found the idea of his wife being dead more bearable than the fact that she did not love him any more. When Carl was confronted with this, he began to recall what had actually happened, and his distress gradually abated over the next couple of days.

Colin
Colin had been married for 15 years. One day, his wife unexpectedly told him that she did not love him any more and wanted to leave. He went off to work as usual, but when he returned home in the evening, he was shocked to find teenage children in the house whom he did not recognise. He also did not recognise his wife. He demanded to know what they had done with his young wife and infant children.

His wife called the on call GP and he was sedated.

I saw Colin with his wife the following morning. The crisis was over by then. It appeared that his brain’s response to the news of the end of their relationship had been to develop a form of hysterical amnesia, where he had “lost” the previous 10 or so years, taking him back to a golden past in which he and his wife had young children and a happy marriage.

Overnight, the amnesia had worn off, and he was reluctantly beginning to accept the reality of the situation.

Christopher
Christopher presented to the Accident & Emergency department one day with global amnesia. He did not know his name, or where he lived. He had no memory of his past. He was unable to give any information about himself.

He was examined for head trauma, but he had no injuries of any sort, and was admitted to Charwood psychiatric hospital.

After a cpouple of days a police trawl of missing persons revealed who he actually was, and his mother visited him on the ward. He did not recognise her.

Over a period of about two weeks, his memory gradually returned, and the story of what had actually happened emerged. And guess what? It was all about the ending of a relationship. His girlfriend had told him she wanted to finish with him. His immediate reaction was one of rage, and he literally picked his girlfriend up off the ground and hurled her across the room. Fortunately, she was shaken, but not otherwise physically harmed. He then stormed off – and promptly wiped everything from his mind, including his entire life history.

These three cases featured forms of amnesia as a way of coping with intolerable news. Other people will simply refuse to accept that anything has changed, and will attempt to carry on despite all evidence to the contrary.

Charles
I was asked to assess Charles by his GP. Charles was a man in his 40’s who had been married for about 20 years. The couple had two teenage sons. 3 or 4 months previously his wife had told him that she wanted a divorce. She asked him to leave, but he refused. Since then, he had been living in the dining room. He had put locks on the inside of the door and only left the room in the middle of the night when the rest of the family were in bed. Then he would creep out and use the kitchen to prepare food for himself.

His wife had initiated formal divorce proceedings and had decided to put the house on the market. When she told him about this, he vacated the dining room one night and moved into the garage.

I went out to try and see him. His wife let me in and showed me photographs of the dining room that she had taken after he had vacated it. He had constructed a network of tunnels using cardboard boxes and blankets that had filled the room.

I went out to the garage, which had an up and over door which was closed. A car was in the garage, and he appeared to be living in that. There then followed one of my more unusual attempts to interview “in a suitable manner”. I could not induce him to open the door so that I could talk with him face to face, and had to make do with talking to him through the door.

During the interview I was unable to elicit any overt signs of psychosis, and he generally answered questions rationally, although avoided any discussion of the impending divorce. I concluded that despite the unusual circumstances, there was no evidence of risk that would merit obtaining a magistrate’s warrant under Sec.135. He was simply in denial, and unprepared to accept reality.

I advised his wife to get legal advice about evicting him from the property, and subsequently heard that after a few weeks he left of his own volition.

None of the above were actually detained under the MHA. In other cases, precipitated by rejection and the end of a relationship, people can self harm or become suicidal and present with high levels of risk. But do they actually have a mental disorder that makes them liable to be detained?

One such example was the man I wrote about in a previous post (Should People Be Stopped From Committing Suicide?) who eventually successfully committed suicide, more through petulance than mental illness. In practice, in the case of most adjustment disorders, the presenting aberrant behaviour will either quickly resolve, therefore not requiring the use of the MHA, or it is sufficiently difficult to establish the existence of a mental disorder sufficient to warrant detention that the MHA cannot be used.

Next time: Psychotic or delusional disorders named after people: Othello Syndrome and De Clerambault’s Syndrome

Who Should Sign the Section Forms: the AMHP or the Nearest Relative?

Yes, I know that in practice a patient’s nearest relative never makes an application for detention under Sec.2, Sec.3 or for guardianship. But the Mental Health Act and the guidance could never really seem to make their minds up about this point.

The NR has had this power since the 1959 Mental Health Act, and I am aware of one or two cases of the NR making the application under the old Act, often assisted by a psychiatrist who did not want a lay person meddling in his affairs.

Given that the whole point of the existence of Approved Social Workers (and AMHP’S) was to provide a professional with extensive knowledge and expertise in mental health and the law relating to mental health who wasn’t a doctor, it was something of a surprise to me, and to others, when the 1983 Act did not abolish the right of the NR to make an application.

And it was even more of a surprise when the 2007 Act, which amended the 1983 Act and created AMHP’s, did not take the opportunity to abolish this right, especially as in the meantime, the Mental Health (Care and Treatment) (Scotland) Act 2003 had done away with the right of the NR to make an application north of the border.

In fact, while the Scottish mental health legislation recognises the existence of the nearest relative, patients are allowed to nominate a "named person" who may or may not be their nearest relative, and it is this "named person" who has to be consulted and has the functions of the NR.

I personally think this is a good idea, and one which should have been adopted when Parliament had the chance.

Meanwhile, in England and Wales the Reference Guide states:
 
“AMHPs must make an application if they think that an application ought to be made and, taking into account the views of the relatives and any other relevant circumstances, they think that it is “necessary and proper” for them to make the application, rather than the nearest relative” (2.36)
 
This almost seems to imply that an AMHP has to make a specific reasoned decision to make the application themselves, rather than letting the NR do it as the default.

However, the Code of Practice seems to have a much firmer view on the use or otherwise of the NR in these circumstances. Para4.28. states:

“An AMHP is usually a more appropriate applicant than a patient’s nearest relative, given an AMHP’s professional training and knowledge of the legislation and local resources, together with the potential adverse effect that an application by the nearest relative might have on their relationship with the patient.”
I wrote about the powers and functions of the nearest relative on the blog a few months ago. But the reason I’m revisiting this now is because of the new Code of Practice.

You see, there's been a subtle, but I think significant, change in the advice given relating to the nearest relative making an application rather than an AMHP.
 
The old Code of Practice said (4.30):
 
“Doctors who are approached directly by a nearest relative about making an application should advise the nearest relative that it is preferable for an AMHP to consider the need for a patient to be admitted under the Act and for the AMHP to make any consequent application… Doctors should never advise a nearest relative to make an application themselves in order to avoid involving an AMHP in an assessment.”
 
However, the new Code of Practice, which comes into effect on 1st April 2015, has a much briefer equivalent paragraph:
"Doctors who are approached directly by a nearest relative about the possibility of an application being made should advise the nearest relative of their right to require a local authority to arrange for an AMHP to consider the patient’s case." (14.32)
It's quite different, isn't it? Gone is the bit about the doctor advising that it is preferable that an AMHP should undertake the assessment and make a decision.
Gone is the instruction that doctors should never advise the NR to do it themselves to avoid using an AMHP.
A conscious decision has clearly been made to amend this paragraph, removing the bits that suggest an AMHP should always be the best person to conduct an assessment.
But why?

Is it now the intention that NR's should be encouraged to undertake more assessments under the MHA?

I'm frankly perplexed.