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Hopkins, named after a metaphysical poet, Dr Walter my psychiatrist, told me. I vaguely recall it was built around a quadrangle with two lounges.Once wreaths from a funeral were donated to the ward for decoration on the coffee tables. They looked like coffins! The thought was well intended but an unfortunate gesture. The other lounge was much smaller and it was a quiet place as nobody else used it. I took up residence as it was a good place to try and do revision for the course examinations which were due. It was doing my thesis which had caused the episode of illness.Christmas at the Churchill Clinic was memorable because we had a dinner at lunchtime followed by Christmas Tea on the ward. I felt very well fed at the end of the day!Winter weather brings back two memories. I was in the process of being discharged and started staying in my flat in Chelmsford. There was a power cut I became very frightened and instead of going to bed and waiting until morning I decided to drive back to the hospital. I got about halfway to Harlow when I got caught in a snowdrift. Other drivers got hold of the corners of the car and lifted me over the heap of snow I made the rest of the way to Harlow and the safety of the Churchill Clinic. The next day I tried to get back to Chelmsford but I only got to the outskirts of Harlow. Traffic was nose to tailing and every time I tried to move the car skidded. The staff at the hospital were not best pleased to see me back again when they thought I was discharged.Nurses always make an impression: A support worker I remember most favourably at the Churchill Clinic was a man who