Interview with Ashborn

This is an interview conducted with Ashborn on 2 May 2025.

Our credit goes to our interviewee, Mr Ashborn, without whose contribution this testimony will never be written. Rev Yonah Cibani (ORCID 0009-0004-2446-1423) is the main interviewer, Ms Borecole is our co-interviewer.

(Start of interview)

Interviewer: You mentioned something that moved you while at Nanjing Brain Hospital. Was there anything or anyone there—such as a doctor—who treated you with respect or made you feel seen?

Participant: Dr. Z. and Head Nurse L. left a deep impression on me. Another patient, whom I’ll call D., also played a part. Dr. Z. acknowledged that the activity room was too noisy and allowed me to read in her office. That was within her duties, yes, but I appreciated it greatly.

Interviewer: You stayed for 21 days at Nanjing Brain Hospital. How did you feel over those 21 days?

Interviewer: We’ve heard that forced haircuts are common there.

Participant: That was quite a bizarre experience. I was told to go to the doctor’s office and tried to hold out until the hairdresser left. But just before she did, I got caught. I could’ve avoided it, but someone named W. had several male nurses around him. They made me get a haircut. I didn’t want to be tied down, so I resisted in my own way. I kept a severe expression—like St. Peter refusing to renounce his faith at the stake. Eyes unblinking, full of defiance.

Interviewer: So you maintained your dignity in that moment.

Participant: Yes. St. Peter defied fire. Did he forsake his faith before dying? He didn’t, did he?

Participant: My belongings were tossed around. It was winter—December—I might’ve been wearing something too thin. The hospital clothing was huge.

Interviewer: I understand.

Participant: I looked undignified. Though my grandparents brought me clothes, they happened to be ones my biological father bought. My parents hadn’t seen me in person. I was noticed for all the wrong reasons, so I dared to face them just that once. Do you think they knew my size? The clothes didn’t fit. I could only wear one trench coat. I tried the others but they were too baggy—meant for someone else. I thought it a compromise, but it felt like being slaughtered.

Participant: That was my last home visit—my second one. The first time I’d been sedated with a buttocks injection. After the check-up, it seemed everything was resolved. The person there expressed genuine kindness—within half an hour, they prepared dinner for me. I couldn’t eat it, of course, but it meant something.

Participant: I’ve had chronic back pain for a long time.

Interviewer: I know those hospital beds. Lying on them too long causes discomfort.

Interviewer: Were you forcibly hospitalised at Zhongda?

Participant: No—it wasn’t compulsory. It was an open ward. But let me finish about Nanjing Brain Hospital first.

Interviewer: You mentioned a chubby patient sat on a thinner one. Could you tell us more about that incident?

Participant: Let me finish talking about D. I could immediately see two sets of new clothes. I needed to look before buying. I wore long hair then—dressed androgynously. Though I had well-fitting clothes, they made me wait until the next day to wear them under the excuse of washing my hair. They didn’t really accept me—they found it amusing. My grandfather wasn’t amused. They never intended to tie their treatment of me to family care. That included me.

Interviewer: D.—was he a doctor, nurse, or care worker?

Participant: No, he was just a patient with a complex condition. I saw him constantly irritable, unable to sleep, in severe decline. He was in his 60s or more. He had a mind like a child’s. You could see that pure spirit in him. He saw clearly how crushed I was by my grandparents. They weren’t kind as people assumed. They didn’t care about me—only said polite things to visitors. He believed in me. He knew the law well. I treated him with respect.

Interviewer: So one of the few truly sincere people you met in the hospital.

Participant: He had his limits, of course. But he did something deeply moving. Not out of instinct—he thought it through. He offered me his clothes. Even though I couldn’t wear them, it showed he cared. That’s what real care looks like. Not just wearing your grandfather’s clothes and showing up to visit. No wonder he never came. Who bought those clothes? Did your father?

Interviewer: Thank you for sharing these touching details.

Participant: He used psychological defences—not lumping me in with the thousands cast aside by society, but seeing me differently. He didn’t hold people in contempt, though he acted aloof. He wasn’t elegant—he thought he understood social graces, but he was a fool. Still, I think his family had hurt him. That’s how he preserved dignity.

Participant: The canteen wasn’t truly dignified either. It was part of the machinery—just a half-step above us. He was foolish.

Interviewer: Still, he offered something—a piece of the system.

Participant: The key is that he kept his dignity by hurting family members like me. If he lied about things like in a film, he wouldn’t have survived.

Participant: D. was severely ill. His protection made me feel grateful—but it also intensified my own abnormalities. It’s abnormality that resonates.

Interviewer: I’d like to ask about L.J., W.L., and others. I’ve seen L.X.R. with those three. Could you recount what happened?

Participant: L.J. was a difficult patient. His personality was withdrawn and mentally constrained. It was biological. There was no need to treat him cruelly.

Interviewer: But his consciousness was very clear?

Participant: Otherwise, why would he say things like “I’ll bring you something tasty”? That showed his ability to communicate. I always had a good impression of him. Like you, I felt deep guilt. I couldn’t laugh at his suffering.

Interviewer: Please recount what happened with those two individuals.

Participant: X.Y. and D. were alike—severely degenerated. X.Y. had baby teeth, no proper gums, even decayed teeth. He could eat, but he shouldn’t have been treated as a mascot. There was no need to indulge him.

Interviewer: Can we go over what happened then?

Participant: It wasn’t a single incident—it was just something I recorded in a moment. If something happened, I documented it.

Interviewer: So it was ongoing?

Participant: Was L.J. half-vegetative or one-eyed? He was mentally sound. That’s why others treated him poorly. He resisted a bit. Male nurses neither respected nor sympathised with him. His actions were extreme. I called him a mascot because he was used to block doors.

Interviewer: What was the name of the other person involved with L.J.?

Participant: L.X.L.

Interviewer: L.X.L. was made to sit on L.J. by W.L.?

Participant: That wasn’t entirely W.L.’s fault. I just happened to document it.

Interviewer: That moment stood out to me.

Participant: It was true schadenfreude. It boosted their superiority. Pathetic.

Interviewer: You said others laughed?

Participant: Even new staff members smiled.

Interviewer: Everyone but you laughed?

Participant: Only G.K. and I didn’t.

Interviewer: G.K. was another patient?

Participant: He swapped beds with me voluntarily.

Interviewer: He had a mother. Why do you emphasise that?

Participant: Because someone cared for him—even that one-eyed man had someone who cared.

Interviewer: You think even a flawed mother still cared like yours did.

Interviewer: After wetting the bed, someone smothered his nose with a urine-soaked pillow. Who was this?

Participant: L.J.

Interviewer: Could you tell us what happened?

Participant: J.Q. Do you understand? L.J. had become a thorn. Under pressure, everyone feared being beaten. Oversensitive, overly defensive.

Interviewer: What did J.Q. do?

Participant: She basically used Z.L.’s pillow to smother his nose.

Interviewer: What did you feel seeing that?

Participant: I had no words.

Participant: This is why I’m giving my testimony now.

Interviewer: I believe remembering is an act of greatness. Our only aim is to remember.

(End of interview)