Admissions (7 page)

I’m terrified. Seeing Jeff will demand me to be aware in a way I haven’t been since my breakdown. And the not knowing. Jeff is scheduled. Will Mom, Molly be waiting in the visitors’ room? I feel the panic rise.

“What time is he getting here?” Heidi says.

“Visit’s scheduled for 2:30. I’m not sure if my mom’s coming, but they told me Jeff should be in the visitors’ room by 2:15. Nurse Judy will come for me when he gets here. How does my hair look?”

“Looks good. Excited?”

“Nervous. Even with my meds, it feels like my skin is going to split open.” Fear, plain and simple, raw nerves exposed like an aching tooth.

“It’ll be fine.” Heidi puts her arm around my shoulder.

“Does this sweater cover my butt? Jeans are so big.” I hike up my Levis.

“A belt would help.”

“A belt on jeans, can you imagine that? It doesn’t seem that long ago I eased them to my thighs, fell back onto the bed, shimmied them past my hips, sucked in my breath, and zipped up. I loved how I looked in those tight jeans.”

“Jeff probably did, too.” Heidi said.

“Yeah …now look at me.”

“You look fine, really.”

“Thanks.” I give Heidi a hug. She’s a good friend, but I can’t tell her I dread the visit, she’ll think I’m crazy.

Jeff charges to his feet when Nurse Judy and I come through the door of the visitors’ room. He holds out his arms. I stagger, my peripheral vision falls away. I feel dizzy, hot. Jeff’s face blurs, his smile, pain-filled eyes fragment, then blackness.

“Lu, Luanne, you all right?” Jeff catches me before I hit the linoleum. Nurse Judy takes my hand, turns my wrist, presses her finger on my vein as she tracks the second hand on her watch.

“Her pulse is racing. Let’s get her over to the couch.” Nurse Judy takes one arm, Jeff the other.

Slowly, I come back. “I’m okay, really …just a little too excited.” I turn toward Jeff, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He holds my hand, face ashen, beads of perspiration across his forehead.

“Sorry.” Damn, this is what I feared.

“You okay, dear?” Nurse Judy takes my wrist again. “Pulse is settling down.”

“Yes, thanks. I want to stay for my visit.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Nurse Judy feels my forehead.

“Yes.”

“Mr. Kilpi, please ring the bell if you need anything. There’s staff behind that window at all times.” She points to the glassed-in reception desk.

“Wow, you scared me.” Jeff sits beside me on the couch and puts his arms around me, holds me close. I lay my head on his chest, pull my legs up beside me as I lean against him.

“Thought Mom might come,” I say after a long silence.

“Your mom and Molly are at that canteen thing. They said you were only allowed one visitor this time.”

“Oh no …they came all this way.”

“They’ll come back, don’t worry. How are you? You’re so thin.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s the medicine.” I don’t want Jeff to know what I’ve been through. Why make him feel worse?

“Oh.” He rubs my arm. It irritates my skin. “Hard to get any news from here. Are you feeling better?”

“I think so. I hope to be home soon. How have you been?” I look up into Jeff’s face.

“Pretty good …better now.” His voice quavers. “Do you …remember anything?”

“No.”

“I’ve been so worried about you.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Do you remember going into the river …or before that?”

“No. I still don’t remember what happened.”

“All I know is that guy pulled you out of the river …don’t know anything before that,” Jeff says.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” He hugs me again. “Do you remember the funeral, or …before that? The day the funeral director came to the house?”

“I remember picking out the casket, some of the funeral service …nothing really about the day Alexander died.”

“We woke up that morning, and he was gone.” Jeff pats the back of my hand.

“You were on days, then? Who went into his room?”

“Ah …we both did, I think.”

“I just can’t remember that. I miss Alexander so.”

“Your mom and Molly were anxious to see you. I’m sure they’ll be back the next time.”

“Are you doing okay? It’s only been a couple of months.”

“I’m working a lot. We were wondering where your room was when we drove up. What part of the hospital is it in?”

“First floor, far north wing, facing the front.” I didn’t see it coming. Here I am, smack dab in the middle of it, avoidance. If we don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist.

We talk about the holidays at home, Jeff’s work, mutual friends. It’s hard for me to hear about life outside the hospital. It’s like watching a movie, life moving along, but I’m not in it. I nod, smile as Jeff talks.

“Rooms nice?”

“Well …it’s a hospital. My roommate is nice.”

Nurse Judy escorts me back to the dayroom.

“Good visit, hon?”

I slump into a chair, exhausted, and stare out the window.

“What is it?” Nurse Judy asks. I don’t have a clue how I should feel. Jeff is a stranger, speaks a different language, a language from my other life, the life outside.

“My husband …he was so distant …I don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s okay to talk about it, Luanne.” Nurse Judy sits down beside me.

“I thought Jeff would understand, maybe even feel some of what I do, but he’s shut a door on me.”

“Each person handles grief in their own way,” Nurse Judy says.

“I guess so …You don’t know how it feels.” All of a sudden I’m mad.

“You’re right, of course I don’t.”

“It’s not supposed to be like this.”

“Um-humm.” Nurse Judy nods her head.

“Why would babies die? Alexander never even got a chance.” I start to cry. Nurse Judy reaches into her pocket, pulls out a rumpled tissue.

“Here. It’s clean.” When I stop crying, she says, “Give it time.”

“You sure time will do it? You know that?” I know I sound cold, but I can’t help it. Time?

“That’s how it worked for me,” Nurse Judy says. “Time …time and prayer heals all wounds.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re the one in the white uniform. You’re not the patient, I am.”

“Yes.” Nurse Judy is quiet. A couple of minutes pass while I tried to stop crying.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I feel so alone.”

“You’re not alone, honey. I’ve been there, too.”

“You’ve been a patient?”

“No.” She looks at me with such kindness. “I lost my baby.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” She stands up. “I need to get evening med trays ready. We’ll talk again.” She squeezes my shoulder, returns to the nurses’ station.

Chapter 13

I
’ve been out of protection only a week, and I’m not sure I can handle group therapy. But if I ever want to get out, I have to go. If you don’t follow the rules, you don’t go home.

Dr. Murray gets there just in time to begin the session. “Welcome back, Luanne.”

“I can’t take this shit.” Isabel pulls her crew neck shirt down over her belly and squirms in her chair. “The first time I came here, they called it the
Blind Room
. Before that, I heard it was called the
Strong Room
. I don’t care what you call it, it’s torture. Some gals in there for months at a time. You tell me, could you be locked up like that and not go crazy?”

Isabel leans back and folds her arms across her chest. “Luanne, you look like you’ve come back from the grave.”

“Thanks.” Leave it to Isabel to make me smile.

“Progress is slow,” Dr. Murray says to Isabel. “I understand your frustration.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know, I know. Let’s move on. Who wants to start today?” Dr. Murray says. The usual ritual starts, with the group members looking down and fidgeting in their seats.

“I guess I could start.”

“Go ahead, Beth,” Dr. Murray says.

“My parents are pressuring me to leave the hospital. They don’t think I belong here. I haven’t even told them about what goes on …the forced feeding …stuff like that.”

“Did they say why?” Dr. Murray asks.

“They noticed the bruise on my neck and asked the nurse supervisor about it. She told them about Margaret attacking me in the dayroom. I’m sure she didn’t say all of it. But my mom cried.”

“You don’t tell them what goes on here? Why not?” Isabel asks.

“I …don’t know.” Beth looks at her blankly.

“Keeping things from your parents, Beth, when did that start?” Dr. Murray asks.

“Well, I remember when my classmates used to tease me every day at school. I didn’t tell my parents about that. Gosh, that was grade school.”

“The kids teased
you
?” Heidi looks shocked.

“Yes. They used to call me
Lambchop
.”

“
Lambchop
? Like the puppet?”

“Yes. You know what? I really did look like
Lambchop.
I had big bulgy eyes, thick bangs.”

“Well, you obviously got revenge,” Autumn says.

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, you’re gorgeous?”

“Beth, you’re a beautiful girl with great talent. I know you were a star at Interlochen Arts Academy. Harp and violin, right?” Dr. Murray asks.

“And voice,” Beth says. “All of that is over now.”

“What do
you
want Beth?” Dr. Murray asks. “Do you feel you want to leave the hospital? Your weight is still low. You haven’t yet met your clinical goals.”

“I don’t know. I hate seeing my parents upset.”

“Jesus Christ. Your parents?” Heidi says. “What about you?”

“Heidi has a good point,” Dr. Murray nods.

“I’m okay,” Beth says quietly.

“Yeah, right,” Isabel rolls her eyes.

“I want to be a good patient. I don’t want to bail out on you guys. But my parents aren’t happy. I don’t know.” The group falls silent.

I don’t know what to say. Beth is such a cute girl, kind and polite. Even after hearing her talk in group, I still don’t understand the eating problem. I can’t make sense of my own life, let alone Beth’s. Feeling like you don’t measure up, that I can understand. I should say something, but it seems like such an effort.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s stupid, really. I can’t make the simplest decision,” Beth says.

“It most certainly
is
a big deal,” Dr. Murray says. “This is your life. You have to do what you think is best for you.”

“My parents expect I’m going to Julliard, even now. I’ve been accepted, but I can’t go.”

“Why not?” Heidi asks.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Of course you deserve it, kid,” Isabel says. “Having all your talent, that’s real special.”

“You’re right. I should be grateful. I don’t know why I feel this way. I just don’t know.”

After about two minutes of shuffling and sighing, Estee speaks up. “I have no idea what you should do.” She scratches her arms. “I’m pretty sure I’m crazy again. They must have done something to my meds.

“Are you doing okay on your medication, Estee?” Dr. Murray asks.

“No, I’m not. You’re trying to poison me. We’re all going to rot in here. I guess Luanne was the first to go. One minute she’s here, they swoop down, snatch her up, drag her down to the bowels of hell.”

We all stare at Estee, until Beth breaks the silence. “I want you guys to help me.”

“What would
you
like to do?” Dr. Murray asks again.

“I want to get better, leave here some day. Not now.”

“Well, there’s your answer. Do you want me to talk to your parents with you, Beth? Try to explain again about your disorder?”

“You won’t say anything to upset them.”

“Beth, I’m on your side. The main thing
you
can do is try to get your weight up to ninety pounds. Then you can transfer to Hall 9.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.”

“You
must
gain weight, Beth. Otherwise, you will stay on 5. You need to gain at least one pound this week. Do you understand?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Why don’t you just eat?” Isabel asks.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s not that easy for Beth,” Dr. Murray explains. “She has an illness.”

“I don’t have any place to go.” Heidi brings the focus to herself. “Livin’ with my dad up above Randy’s Party Store all my life, then bein’ out on the street. I hated high school. Don’t have no education. My mom’s such a bitch. She don’t want me.”

“Maybe my parents could help you?” Beth says.

“Your parents?”

“Well, my folks have money. They could give you a loan or something.”

“Oh Jeez Louise.” Heidi shakes her head. “They’re gonna give money to some whore off the street you met up with in the loony bin. Oh, brother.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“The reason you’re in my group is because I believe you’re all going to get better and leave the hospital,” Dr. Murray says.

I really wonder about that. I can see now that Estee is seriously ill, a real mental case. What if Dr. Murray says that to everyone?

“I just want to see my kids,” Autumn says.

“Autumn, I’m going to request at the next clinical team meeting that you be allowed visitation with your children.”

“Really?” Autumn shifts in her seat and looks around the group.

“Are you ready for a visit, Autumn?” Dr. Murray asks.

“To tell you the truth, I’m scared to death.”

“What are you afraid of? They’re your
kids,
” Heidi says.

“I’m afraid to see the hurt in their faces. Afraid they blame me for what happened …”

“What did happen, exactly?” Isabel says.

“Jeez, well …well, that night he came over to pick up the kids for visitation. He was so drunk he could barely stand up…” Autumn pauses, leans forward, then back. “He yelled at them to get their coats on. When I tried to say something, he called me …a …terrible name …”

“Go ahead and tell us what he called you, Autumn,” Dr. Murray says.

“A worthless cunt. That’s what he called me that time.”

“Jesus,” Isabel says.

“He yelled and swore, on and on and on. I told the kids to go to their room, they weren’t going.” She reaches for another tissue. “I was scared to death, but I couldn’t let him take the kids.”

“You were very brave, protecting your children,” Dr. Murray says.