Transcript (broken) La (broken) madhouse

On November 5th, 1979, yesterday a fire spread in Oxford, and this morning I read in the newspaper that the fire had destroyed Liddell's house in Oxford, and the fire had taken the lives of the Liddells and their daughter, Lidles. Alice Liddell, the youngest daughter of Pen, Fun www.biquge.info, was also severely burned in the accident. It's unfortunate that the Liddells are very popular.

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On October 26, 1980, I chatted with friends in the hospital today and heard them talk about Alice Liddell, the only surviving member of the Liddell family, whose severely burned skin had gradually healed after a year of care. However, the sudden tragedy of her relatives was very traumatic to her, and the orphan's state was very unstable, one moment unconscious, the other time it became out of control and hysterical, and this situation appeared again and again. My doctor friends thought she might be hurting themselves, so they decided to tie her up, depending on how long.

On November 11, 1980, Alice Liddell had her first check-up in Rutledge, and I took over. The Liddells are good people, and I wanted to see if I could help this poor child. As a result, she is deaf and dumb and does not respond to stimuli. She seemed desperate about her situation, and my colleague (vaguely) commented: "She literally had half a foot in the coffin." If she hadn't been young, she would have learned about her life right away and would have been buried in the infamous (obscure) cemetery. ”

Despite the fact that she was numb and sluggish, surprisingly quiet, and showed significant dementia, we set a treatment plan for her.

In 1981, for the first six months, we did everything we could for her at the time - from cold casts to bloodletting, but to no avail, with experimental shock therapy devices that were still in the experimental stage, and then with large doses of opium tinctures that still worked. We gave up completely, so we confined her in solitary confinement and tied up, subjected her to treatment of emotional deprivation, confiscated her beloved toy bunny, and tried to cancel afternoon tea - but to no avail. She still didn't respond.

She neither resisted treatment nor responded to it in any way. She completely ignored everything, completely closed herself off, and excluded the whole world. Not long after we were diagnosed with her insaneness, she fell into a coma.

Although her spirit is weak, her body is healthy. We're still hopeful she'll be back healthy – but that doesn't mean we're optimistic. We treated her reasonably, but unfortunately we hardly saw any signs of improvement.

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In the fall of 1989, after eight years of paroxysmal sleep, Alice suddenly began to paint. I was amazed, even though her first painting turned out to be a scary cat!

But then there were paroxysmal bursts of anger and inexplicable screams, and she would sob hysterically after showing signs that might be improving. This is compounded by indirect spasticity, which necessitates frequent sedation. Sometimes many medical drugs and chemicals have little effect. So she needs to take more medication, even more than the average person can afford.

At the end of November 1989, the situation seemed to have improved somewhat. She began to whine and then to a sustained hysterical scream, but thankfully, she finally responded—even if it might not be normal, but the people around her at least understood what she was saying.

On December 10th, oh my God, the dean's stupid nephews! After she had been beaten viciously (in a daze) by them in the hospital room, Alice quietly touched them behind and attacked them violently, using a spoon as a knife to kill one of the twins, and the other fell to the ground like a dead pig, bleeding profusely. Then she pointed the spoon at it again (indistinct)

Luckily, my colleague (vague) was able to stop what she could have done to herself in time. However, she returned to her previous state: in the silence of a few days, she would sometimes paint a few strange scenes and people, sometimes she would casually chant small poems that she didn't understand, or she would keep talking nonsense, or she would fall into a nervous tension and trance for a long time, and then she would roar and moan inexplicably.

In 1990, until this spring, things suddenly took a turn for the better. She began to speak. From civilized speeches to brutal invectives, or to her mysterious speeches, in and out of her deranged, intense, crazy, horrific dreams. But in her normal saneity, she began to grow confident, she shared some of the pain of losing a loved one with herself, and she muttered about the strange scenes in her mind over and over again. Of course, these illusions are not real to us, but her dialogue, at least in some way connected to the world, and she no longer completely rejects the world, in any case, is no small improvement.

It sounds convincing, but she often loses touch with the world - talking about fairyland, tea parties, mushroom forests, jack bombs, shipwreck sharks, and the queen of hearts, which is still very exciting. Her mood changed from depressed and melancholy to ferocious and violent to confident and calm, which was a positive change. But a "normal" Alice appears, a "healing" Alice disappears, and she seems to waver between hallucinations and reality throughout summer and autumn.

In October 1990, I fell ill. I think we did everything we could for her. After 10 years of treatment, we gave her all the treatments she could afford -- except for the prefrontal lobotomy. But she still showed symptoms of catatonia and we really don't know why!

I thought it was the drug working: but I doubt it now. Did she notice anything unusual about her toy rabbit? In fact, we bought it to compensate for confiscating it a few years ago. As mentioned in previous reports, she was indifferent to my orders, commands, and requests. To a large extent, she was "cured", but I believe she healed herself.

Now she had somewhat stabilized, though she had turned from initial fear to current fatigue from the endless hallucinations. I couldn't resist the dean's plea, and although I didn't know if it was necessary to continue the treatment, it seemed like a waste of everyone's time to keep her in.

In November 1990, she left Rutledge disappointed. She was homeless and had no friends to turn to, but thankfully the legacy was left behind after treatment

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