It Shouldn't be a Broom Cupboard
It takes around 3 minutes to walk from the entrance of the Royal Free Hospital, to the CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service) offices. Even by NHS standards, the Royal Free is not exactly swish, but by the time you reach the CAMHS corridor you’ve passed the wide main vestibule, with the touch screen check-ins, bright lighting, clear signposting and gleaming floors, and you’re in what I like to call broom cupboard territory. Inside the CAMHS waiting room there are a few tired looking plastic chairs squashed together in a small space, some battered picture books, and a valiant attempt by the overworked staff to put together an interesting wall display. In short, the distinctly underwhelming experience that is a visit to the CAMHS quarters in the Royal Free, is a sad reflection of the chronic underfunding and undervaluing that characterises mental health treatment in this country. And I know it – because for the past three years, my wonderful daughter has been a CAMHS cli...