St. Brigid’s Mental Hospital, Ballinasloe and (former patient) Séamus Fahy, Co. Galway, Ireland.

Prodding and beating with a broom and then some sodomising: all in a day’s work for Irish mental health nurses and orderlies …

From what Séamus Fahy told us St Brigid’s hospital
isn’t far removed from Hell.

We got to know Séamus Fahy through meeting him, a number of years ago, in a Galway city pub and after our initial apprehension regarding his unstable demeanour we found he had a very interesting story to tell.

On first sight it was very obvious that Mr Fahy was mentally unhinged but as we got to know him over a period of time we found that he was seeking friendship, and wasn’t of the type who’d suddenly set about your person.

Galway city, and the west of Ireland generally, have more than your average percentage of nuts and a lot of them tend to be violent – a closed inbred gene pool leads to this type of society. So it’s best to be cautious if in Galway because you will, most likely, be approached on numerous occasions by mentally afflicted persons of whom the majority tend to be dangerous.

Backward bitch who’s a head pharmacist.

Nut-case manages Irish Boots’ outlet.
Boots the Chemist’s Josephine Byrne.

The first amazement we found about Fahy was that he spent every day from about 2:00pm onwards drinking in some or other Galway pub, and that he had a seemingly endless reservoir of money to fund this constant consumption. He was also able to fund his common law wife’s (Isobel) drinking which was no mean feat considering she drank more voraciously than the stereotypical Irishman – in fact Isobel wasn’t Irish, she was a member of the Apache nation of North America.

St Brigid’s Mental Hospital, Ballinasloe.
A hell on earth for those who enter.

Over a number of weeks, as we gained Séamus’ trust, he laid bare the atrociously dark underbelly of Galway society. The least alarming aspect of his life, and the part he played in western Irish society, was that he had inherited an extremely large sum of money from his parents: his father had sold land in the east of Galway city and it was this that funded Séamus’ and Isobel’s endless socialising.

The reason for the eternal demon that very obviously clung to Séamus’ back soon became clear as he related further facts about his life. It turned out he had had a complete “mental breakdown” a few years earlier and that he’d been sectioned and confined in St Brigid’s Mental Hospital, Ballinasloe – perhaps it was a little more than a mere breakdown because he’d been arrested for smashing shop windows around Galway city.

Dr Jacinta Barry’s loony receptionist.

University College Hospital, Cork.
Snarling Cork city nurses.

His relation of the Dante’s Inferno type abuse he suffered in St Brigid’s mental hospital, though, made us realise that Séamus Fahy had a world of volatile resentment just simmering below the surface. This man was a walking hand grenade with a filed down and well greased pin that the most innocuous of situations might dislodged.

There were six of us in the group that Séamus Fahy told the following to, and all of us, while aware that Fahy had a constant blood alcohol level, believed he was telling the truth. One of our group, whose work associates her with the psychology1 field pointed out Fahy’s heightened and varying emotional states as he told of beatings, sodomy and rape: “there was no doubt that he was relating events that had (and still did) caused him severe trauma.”

The least of the abuse Mr Fahy endured in St Brigid’s hospital was the young Irish female mental health nurses who, over the course of his stay there, violently hit and prodded him with sweeping brushes. Some of these nurses, the most of whom he claimed were in their early to mid twenties, would approach and poke him with the brushes’ handle while daring him to retaliate. To paraphrase what Fahy told us they said: “do ya not like that ya madman, are ya not going to do something about it, ya bastard.” Others would use the head of the brush to hit him on the shins and across his head and back while also taunting him and attempting to goad him into reacting.

Pharmaceutical Society of Ireland.

Dentish dies in Galway hospital.
Dr Chris Luke’s vulgarism.

As Fahy let us know: if he had had reacted there were three of four orderlies nearby who were more than eager for any excuse to join in and stamp their authority on him – a pulverising with fists, batons and boots no doubt.

What really shocked my companions (I know what the natives are like in this part of Ireland and they’re beyond shocking me) were his claims that he been raped by staff members and other patients. He related how over the first seven days he had been heavily drugged but as the drug dosage eased off and he started to come round he noticed his anus was hurting badly. He told this to one of the hospital personnel who came to check on him but it was aggressively shrugged off and the claim made that it was just a side effect of the medication.

Séamus’ common law wife wasn’t Irish
but she found a home there.

That night, Fahy went on to inform us, two hospital personnel came to him and while one stood back the other told him: “me and you have been having sex, are you feeling like it tonight?” Fahy now realised why his anus hurt and vehemently objected pointing out that he had a girlfriend – basically stating he wasn’t a homosexual and didn’t want to have sex with these guys. With this the other staff member approached and struck him hard in the groin. Séamus Fahy, who pointed out at this stage that he was groggy from medication, went on to say, that the two staff members then beat him all over before one sodomised him and the other forced him to perform fellatio.

Fahy claimed this happened regularly during his stay in St Brigid’s hospital and that at least three different male staff members raped and sodomised him and also forced him to perform fellatio – it seems that on each consecutive evening the abusers partook in either sodomy or fellatio. He also told of how another patient, who was given preferential treatment by hospital staff [a trustee] also sodomised him on numerous occasions and always asked, while in the act: “am I satisfying you, am I better than the others.”

The typically unclean Galway city pub where we first meet Séamus Fahy.

What made Séamus Fahy’s claims totally believable was his body language and the seemingly incidental interjections he made while telling of his ordeal, and the way he answered questions we posed in order to check if he would change or alter what he had already told us.

Fahy stuck rigidly to the chronological order in which he first laid out his allegations: over the course of three evenings my companions backtracked and asked him to repeat specific details of claims he had made as much as three days earlier and the main theme of what he claimed never changed.

The most telling evidence of his truthfulness was the non-translucent confusion he displayed over whether he was hetrosexual or homosexual: one night we saw him vacillate enormously between being pleasant and rude to a camp male who happened to be seated near us. This, my companion informed me, could be seen in people who were the victims of same sex paedophilia, they’d blame themselves, believing they had somehow invited the abuse upon themselves and be confused about their sexual orientation.

My companions took a lot more convincing than I did; that’s because I know what the inbred, backward lazy trash who make up the populace in the west of Ireland are like. My friends were convinced eventually after analysing tape recordings of Mr Fahy's allegations; by the time we left Galway we had no doubt that Séamus Fahy endued something worse that Dante’s ninth circle of Hell while incarcerated in St Brigid’s mental hospital, Ballinasloe.

Séamus Fahy passed away on on November 11, 2012. We hope he’s gone on to better.

Séamus Fahy told quite a few others of his torture in St Brigid’s hospital and it’s a great pity, considering his family’s wealth, that legal action wasn’t taken against the scumbags who work in and manage this institution. Albeit taking legal action against an Irish hospital in an Irish court would be a bit like using the Zimbabwean justice system to sue Robert Mugabe.          

Mr Fahy unfortunately deceased on November 11, 2012 and I hope he’s now with someone better than the vile stinking nurses, managers and orderlies who call St Brigid’s, Ballinasloe their workplace.

________________________________________ 1Ireland’s debauched and backward social structure offers students of psychiatry, sociology and psychology fertile training grounds where they cut their teeth analysing a cultural dysfunctionality that won’t be found elsewhere.

Examples of Ireland’s cultural dysfunction:

• Swiss student, Manuela Riedo, beaten, raped and murdered in Galway city by Gerald Barry who shortly before, and just a few streets away, had assaulted and raped a young French student. Barry was well known in Galway city for thuggery, bullying and animalistic assaults on women.
• Foreign students of sociology and psychology find this case particularly interesting due to rumours of local business people, in connivance with the police, insisting on, and being successful in, covering up sexual attacks in the Galway (and the Connaught region generally) area. The grapevine claims this is done so as not to unsettle the west of Ireland tourist industry on which 98% of the local economy is dependent.
• Town’s entire population queues up in Kerry courthouse to commiserate with convicted rapist; the commiserators then go on to harass and torment his victim (a young mother with one child) and attempt to run her out of town.
• For fifteen-years two Roscommon parents raped, abused and starved their six children while allowing (and inviting) their neighbours to do likewise. From the mid-1990s until 2008 these 6 children walked to their country school barefoot, dressed in rags, crawling with lice, and with absolutely no food. In order to eat they had to rob from other student’s lunch boxes. At one stage one of these children took to wearing a ½ metre long wooden cross around his neck: a reaching out for help which was ignored by his teachers and neighbours – it was 15-years before they got removed from their earthly hell (I won’t used the term “saved” because they might well have been put in the “care” of other local inbred Pict cunts).