I woke up this with morning with hope, for a change.  I really wanted to jump out of the uncomfortable bed, pack up my few pathetic belongings in the sterile room, and sprint home.  And take a nap.  I was still exhausted.   A long weekend at the crazy farm isn’t the same as a weekend at a ladies spa. I was really looking forward to my family and a night in my own bed.

The morning routine was easy to manage knowing that it would be my last.  I’d like to say that my time spent here proved valuable in some way, but it didn’t.  I’ve never felt so stressed, scared and threatened at one time. I’ve never had to try so hard to toe the line, follow the rules and conform. My time here was spent trying to survive, not devoted to mindfulness or introspection. I know it will take me some time to process all that has happened as well as the implications and my true feelings about it all. I just can’t think about all this yet.

As he had the day before, he waited until Alex had gone to school before he got to work. Today he wanted to go through all of Nikita’s personal files. For their entire relationship she had been in charge of the finances, taxes, family planning, and general management of the household. He rarely had reason to go through the files looking for paperwork as she always had them under control.

He’d gone through a lot of the files yesterday, separating personal from work, in his effort to pack up and ship her work stuff back to the company. Today he took a look at what was left and thought he would lock it up so she couldn’t get into it. He started to move the files, then decided to move everything, desk, chair and all. He’d put it in his son’s room for now. He was at college. But first, he’d install the lock on the door that he bought.

When she came home, she’d find nothing. No files, no paperwork, no bills, no bank statements, no financial statements, no work documents, nothing personal. All the documents, work product and files she kept for the last 30 years would be gone.

Before going to the Behavioral Unit for Nikita’s hearing, Wayne noticed the bills sitting on the hall table. He decided to get those paid before Nikita came home and tried to take that duty back. He knew from Friday that there was no money in the checking account. He only knew that because Nikita dared him to get money out of the ATM before they went to Memorial Hospital. That must mean they were broke, although he had no idea that they had no money or where it went. Nikita managed their money. He needed money for the bills so he went to the only place he knew he could get help, Nikita’s parents. He visited them before going to the hospital and asked them for a loan until he could get everything under control. He only needed five thousand dollars. He assumed that she kept it a secret from everyone that they were broke. Her parents were surprised, but didn’t hesitate to loan him the money.

I would find out about this later and I paid it back. He didn’t know anything about the bills and finances. The money was in an account, only I added extra security to the account, which he didn’t realize. He needed to take extra steps to get the money out. But then, if he had the ability or foresight to look at our accounts online, from a computer, he would have realized that the money was all there.

Wayne arrived in the morning and I took him to meet the Patient Advocate. Since Wayne was so cold on the phone yesterday and didn’t commit to taking me home, I felt he still needed convincing. We waited with the nurse to see him. I had asked to see him and had to wait awhile. Finally he came out. We wanted to understand the process for the hearing and the responsibility my husband was signing up for. He tells my husband that I’m exhausted and just need some rest. Wayne says ok. The PA walked us through the steps. Since I didn’t voluntarily commit myself, I needed a hearing/trial to get out in the shortest amount of time. The hearing would decide my fate. The PA had set up a hearing for later that day. The hearing would determine if I could be released. When he finished explaining all this to us Wayne still hadn’t said anything. And he didn’t ask questions. So we ended our meeting with the PA.

I needed to understand Wayne’s position on this. So I asked him how he felt. Wayne said he wanted to make some calls and make sure it’s ok. He’d be back in a few minutes. I wasn’t sure who he was going to call to make him feel more comfortable with doing this. I supposed that he didn’t trust me or the Patient Advocate if he felt he needed to make more calls about this. His lack of commitment concerned me and I felt I needed to call mom and dad. I left a message for them. I didn’t trust him given his waffling.

Wayne walked to an area where he could have some privacy for his calls. He stopped at the nurse’s station to get the phone number for the psychiatrist, since he wasn’t in his office at the behavioral unit. He was at his other office location. He called the hospital psychiatrist first (as I discovered later that day). He wanted to get validation from the doctor that I was ready to be released. He wasn’t available so Wayne left a message.

The second call Wayne made was to the social worker. I’m not sure if he reached her or not.

The hearing was held in the conference room in the behavioral unit. Before the meeting, Wayne pulled me aside. He didn’t look happy. He said that he wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but didn’t explain what his concerns were specifically. I had to wonder what happened on those phone calls he made and to whom. He said angrily, as if talking to a naughty child, “If you get released, we’re doing this MY way. My Way. Do you understand?” I didn’t know what that meant, but at that point, I had to agree. I was so close to getting home, I wasn’t going to let this fall apart.

Wayne and I went into the room together. We all choose seats around a conference table. Wayne sits at one end, there’s a judge at the other end. The PA and I sit next to each other on one side of the table and a hospital representative on the other side, across from us.

The meeting starts with the judge asking the Medical Administrator (Recorder of the Meeting) to summarize the medical records for my stay, thus far. She consults her records and talks about the 5150. Most of her details seem related to yesterday, not the entirety of my stay.

She says, “Patient seemed anxious about her hearing. Patient would ask several medical staff about the hearing process, what to expect, etc.”

The judge then directs the questioning to me. “Ms. Mears, do you know why you are here at BU? Do you understand what this hearing is about?”

In the pre-meeting with the Patient Advocate, he told me that I was not to do any of the talking in the hearing. If questions were addressed to me that I was to say ‘My patient advocate will be answering any questions on my behalf’. He said that he has been in situations where patients would just talk them into a longer stay, so he warned me to keep my mouth shut. So as the Judge was asking me questions, I did what I was instructed to do. I replied that my patient advocate will be answering on my behalf.

The PA then stated our position to the judge, “There has been a mistake. Ms. Mears doesn’t belong here. Hers is a situation of severe exhaustion that got blown out of proportion. What Ms. Mears needed was REST. She’s been able to rest and should be allowed to go home.”

The Judge just nodded his head, up and down, as if he was acknowledging, yet it appeared to be patronizing to both me and the PA. The Judge asked who will be caring for Ms. Mears when she leaves the BU.

In a very cold, unemotional, formal, almost robotic way, Wayne said, “I do, Your Honor!”

The Judge asked who he was and Wayne replied, “I am her husband, your honor.”

The Judge then used some legal jargon…in the authority given me, yada yada, Ms. Mears is to be released to her husband, Wayne Kerr’s care and ‘Against Medical Advice (AMA)’.

When I thought it was over, the Patient Advocate then said that he had a few questions….for Ms. Mears. I was surprised, and suspicious, as this wasn’t part of the ‘pre-meeting planning discussion’. So I started to become stiff and guarded.

The PA asked me to confirm that I would take the medicine after leaving the BU. I paused because I was trying to do the math in my head, comparing the risks of saying “Yes” vs. “No”. It seemed like 10 minutes passed while I sat there thinking, worried, and pissed at the PA. It was definitely a ‘set up’ between the PA and BU. A ploy to relinquish them (BU, Doctors, Judge, BU Medical Staff) from any responsibility in the event something went sideways when I left. So I just nodded my head while giving a look to the PA of confirmation that this was the ‘right’ answer. All the PA did was say “Ms. Mears, you will need to say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’, a nod is not sufficient to go on record”. So, against my gut instincts, I said “Yes”. And after that, more legal jargon by the Judge and Hearing adjourned. I WAS GOING HOME.

I immediately left the hearing to go to my room and pack up. The girl who agreed with my Bingo participation trophy saw me in the hall. She came up to me to ask me if I was leaving. I had avoided talking to the patients during my stay, although I see they all talked amongst themselves. I hadn’t mentioned my hearing to anyone, so they probably didn’t know about it. I didn’t trust telling anyone anything because I couldn’t tell if she was really a patient or a plant. When she said she knew I was waiting to go home, I was cautious but also suspicious. I still tried to avoid talking to her because I didn’t want to jeopardize my chance to leave. I thought they could use something I said against me, so my best course of action was to say nothing.

The girl said she knew I was just waiting for my time to leave.

I said, “What?”

She said, “I hear you’re leaving. I want to talk to you.”

I said, “How did you hear that?”

She replied, “I just know.”

So I said, “OK. I’ll come find you.” But then I hid from her.

In my room I was thinking is she a patient or a plant? Certain people behaved in a way that freaked me out, but I held my composure.

In order to leave, I had to have the psychiatrist officially discharge me. When we met with him, the doctor was physically upset with something. He said that Wayne called his private practice when he left his message. He wanted to know how Wayne got that number. Wayne told him from the nurses. That just made the doctor even more pissed that the nurse would give out his number. He told us they shouldn’t have done that under any circumstances. Wayne didn’t realize that the psychiatrist had two practices. One tied to the hospital and the other for private patients. The doctor doesn’t like to mix the two.

I was surprised at how the doctor projected his anger verbally and physically. I thought he came out and practically attacked us both like we murdered someone. I had to step in front of Wayne and calm the doctor down. I told him that Wayne didn’t know. It was just a mistake. Even in my mental hospital stay, I was calm and logical enough to protect Wayne from the doctor.

My sisters told me later that Wayne said he didn’t think the psychiatrist was a real doctor, especially after he approved my leaving the facility.

When I got home, Alex was at the kitchen table. I start cleaning up the kitchen mess left by my absence for 4 days, putting dishes in the dishwasher and generally straightening up. I see lemon bars on the counter and wonder who made them. I ask my daughter if she made them and she says no. My husband says, “I’ll tell you tomorrow”. He seems pissed for some reason. I realize that I can’t just be myself and have a normal conversation with him, so I go take a shower.

I notice that the desk and all of my stuff is missing. I decide to take a shower and address it with Wayne when I get out. I want to wait until he’s not so angry and in-my-face about behaving.

When I finished in the shower and returned to the kitchen there was food. I think my mom picked up some food and brought it over. I wasn’t hungry. I just had hot water to keep me warm.

My daughter tells me to go sit in the recliner and she’ll put my favorite TV show on. How sweet and thoughtful, I think. I start to fall asleep and decide to go to bed. Wayne tells me I need to take my medicine. (The hospital discharged me with a prescription for anti-psychotic drugs.) My husband made a point of coming up to me, grabbing each side of my face and pulling me close so he could be in my face, when he said, “I took responsibility for you at the hospital. From now on, we’re doing things My Way. Understand? My Way.” I take the pill. He tells me to stick my tongue out, and show that I swallowed. (I haven’t let anyone know that I’ve been spitting the pills out. I have made a point to him that I don’t want or need meds, but since he said at trial that he’d send me back if I wasn’t complying and telling him the truth, I know I have to keep this secret). He leaves for the kitchen and I spit the pill out and go to bed.

After that stern message, I went to bed. The stress of the hospital and the worry about not being able to get out, and the toilet flushing, meant I had not gotten good sleep in several days. Leading up to this I wasn’t sleeping well. I was exhausted before I got to the hospital, and the Ativan did knock me out somewhat, but I still felt like I could sleep for days. Maybe some of the tiredness was due to depression. It was overwhelming to be in the hospital, constantly on alert, aware that people were watching every move you made. I still had symptoms of illness, only it didn’t register. Unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to sleep in.

Photo by Bill Oxford on Unsplash

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