For Nancy:
It had been days since I really slept. My mother-in-law came to stay with me at our apartment in Willow Grove, Pa, because I was too afraid and paranoid to go anywhere or let Denison out of my sight. My husband would stay up with me as long as he could, he was exhausted, but was determined to see me through this rough patch until my withdraw symptoms had subsided. However, things got worse. I could not longer keep Mom Truitte captive in my home... and I began to feel even more inadequate as a mother and wife with her there. I thought maybe that everyone would be better off without me. She could care for my baby. I had more racing thoughts and felt like a prisoner in my own mind and body. I could not kill myself for one reason-- I had a life inside of me. That is God's honest truth. I do not think I would be alive today if it were not for my little daughter growing inside of me- I was her mama- and I needed to keep her alive, healthy, and safe... but at what cost?
Well more sleepless nights until I started throwing and breaking dishes and scratching my arms till they bled, not to hurt myself purposefully, but to distract my mind from the horrible racing thoughts and the insanity that pleauged my whole being. It was early in the morning and my father in law was called to take my son Denison to his home where he would be out of harms way and safe in my eyes. My sister (a social worker) came and took me directly to the nearest crisis intervention center in our area, which was Abington Memorial Hospital.
We arrived an my sister did the talking, but the BITCH at the front desk was very short in temper and told me I needed to speak up for myself. (Why do people like that work at front desks in emergency rooms, you would think someone who was kind would be there to help you and not make matters worse.) I was taken to an ER room and while being walked back there I saw an old high school friend- Honor Weber. She was working there as a tech. I have no idea what made me call out to her and say hello as if I were seeing her in a bookstore or in the grocery store... I just said as plain as day," Hey Honor what's up"... I felt the words come out of my mouth- and rushed away mortified( I hadn't showered in days and I looked like death). She did not look up from her work, so I thought I was fine. About a half hour later I received a visit from sweet Honor and I told her of my troubles and she was so reassuring and I believe prayed for me then or said she would remember me in prayer. I thought I would be so humiliated, but she put me at ease right away. I remember wishing she could stay with me to comfort me, but of course she needed to work.
That day due to my small veins and dehydration no nurse seemed to be able to get blood and start and IV for fluids... I was poked and prodded and all I could say was it's okay this happens all the time, ha ha I have small veins when I was really thinking one of these good for nothing nurses better get it right or I am going to seriously flip shit. I am happy to say one did. No shit was flipped.
Now on to my so called "case worker"... She was wearing the ugliest wore out white (now beige) sweater and tights... but the sweater did not cover her butt and she had old granny panty lines and was wearing flip flops( I think - I could be lying, but I think she was sporting flip flops). She seemed so unprepared for my case and they would not give me any medication because I was pregnant... I wanted to kill or at the very least hurt myself - was crying and screaming and rocking and they could not even offer me anything until I was admitted - yeah way to get more money out of a patient who just needed an okay to take her own meds. It was a long day, but the only way they would give me medication was if I signed myself into the hospital... I was not thinking straight... never previewed their so called Psych floor - so my ignorance seemed to be my salvation at that time... moments later it would become my hell.
