A 24-Hour Chronology: Alas, Help--Part II

November 3, 2005

Midnight-1:30am: I am sitting with my mother in a light-brown panelled room at the police station. There are various plaques on the wall, which I examine to seem occupied. Ms. McP has left to make a phone call to get my mother admitted, so we sit here for almost two hours and talk about random things. Mom seems normal right now.

Circa 1:30am: Mom thinks she hears none other than Capt. C.'s voice down the hall. She cracks up hysterically, and I tell her it's surely not him. Within a few minutes, he appears around the corner and motions for me to come speak with him. Despite the grave situation, I want to laugh aloud once again at the irony. Mom puts her head down on the table while I step out in the hallway to talk with the captain of the police department--the guy who screwed my mother and asked to see my panties a few years ago in a local park despite the fact I used to baby-sit his kids. I refused to let him anywhere near my panties then, but at the present I am able to maintain a straight face as we discuss my mother's condition.

Ms. McP comes out and encourages me to go pack my mother enough clothing to last for the next 3-4 days. I am supposed to come back to the local hospital to meet her before she is escorted to B. Hospital.

Circa 2:00 am: I go to my mother's, frantically searching through the dark for her personal belongings. My aunt is staying at her house, so I explain everything that happened at the station and she helps me try to find items to pack for mom. I call Aunt S. to see if she will watch my son since my husband goes to work in two hours. She tells me to bring him over, but then I call my husband and realize I might as well just have him bring our son to Aunt S.'s on his way to work. So I call her back and tell her the new arrangements.

I head down to the hospital with two duffel bags--one of clothing, one of toiletries. I park close to the main entrance, but once I get up there, I realize it is locked and there is nobody around. When I had pulled in, I had noticed three cop cars on the northwest side of the building--a dark, dark area that I had always assumed was off-limits to regular folks like myself. A large man walks out of a side door toward me and I explain who I am and why I am there. He tells me that he doesn't know what is taking so long, but it could be another hour or two. I am free to sit outside in my Jeep until she is examined and ready to be transported, but I can't be driving around the parking lot. He tells me she is asleep inside. I am confused because I don't want to sit there in the cold, but I don't want her to be transported by herself. Especially not since Capt. C is driving her.

I finally decide to go to the nearest Village Pantry and get something to drink. I pick up a submarine sandwich and a diet cherry coke and drive around town aimlessly, trying to collect my thoughts.

Circa 3:30am-I come home to pass time. I get online briefly and then I go lie down. My husband stirs so I tell him what all happened. We lie in silence for awhile, and since the alarm is supposed to go off at 4:29am, I decide to stay there rather than attempt going back into town right away. I figure I will get up with him and take my son to Aunt S.'s as I venture back to check on mom at the hospital.

Circa 6:00am-Shit. I overslept. Somehow, the alarm went off for Steve and I missed it. The phone is on my lamp stand. I check it and see that my father called at 5:09am. I get Clayton up, change his diaper, put his clothes on, and head out. Just as I am getting ready to leave, my cell phone rings--it's Meg. When I had gotten online around 3am, I had sent her an offline message and she's responding to the urgent dilemma. We talk briefly and I leave the house with intentions of dropping off Clayton and heading on up to B. Hospital since I'm sure my mother has already been transported.

7:15am: I arrive at Aunt S.'s. I feel the need to fill her in on the night's events. As I leave her house, I call my dad who has just gotten off work at 7am. He wants me to pick us up some breakfast sandwiches, but I have no money. We agree to meet at his house. Within seconds, he calls me back and asks me to scratch the sandwiches--we'll just meet for breakfast at a local cafe. I drive around aimlessly while he's on the road home from his job.

8:00am: Dad is waiting on me as I pull up at the cafe. He hands me a $20 bill and tells me to save that for later because he knows I need gas. We go in and have a seat in the smoking section. I order tomato juice and a bagel with cream cheese while he mows down on steak and eggs and hash browns. He's frustrated that I won't eat more, but my stomach is still in knots from the nerves and the bad sub sandwich. We talk about so many things, ranging from my mother to his new girlfriend to my potential choices for grad school. The electricity goes out briefly. Our conversation gets pretty intense. I do a lot of analyzing and he agrees with most everything I say.

9:10am: I look at my watch and tell dad I have to get going because I really do need to go check on mom. I feel bad enough that I left her hanging at 3am. I go to Speedway and get $12.50 in gas and two diet cherry cokes since they're on sale, 2 for $2. Since my son is not with me, I crank up my Collective Soul CD and head north. I listen carefully to the words on Track #1 (Brings Me Down) and think how much they pertain to my mother and I's relationship.

10:09am: After driving past the entrance twice, I finally pull in to B. Hospital which is located on BSU Campus. I look forward to driving around after the visit, which I am actually dreading now. When I go to the main desk, I explain who I am and what I'm doing there and am directed to the south side of the building. I walk out the building and back in and take a bunch of rights until I arrive at the door of the psych wing where an intercom is located. I push the button, speak, and wait for someone to come down and escort me up to the third floor even though a sign is clearly posted, indicating the visiting hours. I am not here during such hours.

The nurse comes down and just stands before me. Once again I have to go through the whole identification process. She starts telling me vague statements about my mother, but she says things like, "She's not like she usually is...different behavior since the last time." I narrow my eyes and show my confusion. I tell her my mother has never been there before and she realizes she's telling me about the wrong patient's status. I think this is a bad omen of the treatment my mom is going to receive.

Nonetheless, she allows me to go up "for 10 minutes or so" and I am chatting with my mother like nothing has happened. She blames my aunt for all that has taken place, but decides she can confide in me as to the whereabouts of her gun. She is getting along well with everyone and even wants to introduce me to some of the fellow patients. I find that one guy, who is milling around aimlessly, is the same guy who walked in front of me during the cake walk last Saturday. What a small world, I think.

Circa 11am: As I leave the hospital, I text message Meg to meet on campus since that's where she goes to school. It's a shame I have to meet her up here under such conditions, but I don't want to pass up the opportunity for some laughs. I drive around campus for awhile trying to locate her, but there was a mix-up in our texting. It was an interesting ride, though, going in circles and admiring the various people. Once I was one of them, and it is now weird to me that I am driving through this campus I once attended, and with a carseat in the back, at that. I feel old as I peruse the hopeful looking youth milling about. A flood of memories rush back as I recall being a student here seven years ago this fall. I wonder if passersby ever looked at me when I walked along this street, hand-in-hand with my lover and my purple backpack slung over my shoulder, thinking the same thoughts that I am having now.

As I turn off on a side street, I find myself driving up on a curb. For some damn reason, this campus now has brick sidewalks that are identical to the brick patches in the road. I do a circle around a very nice looking man who resembles Will Smith and as I am doing this (on the curb-road), I lean my head out the window and say, "Hey there. Sorry about that."

Finally, I meet up with Meg on the corner of McKinley and some building I once had Algebra class in but now can't remember the name of for the life of me.

We go to Starbucks drive-thru, drive around, and chat about the utter mess going on in my life. We decide it's best to combat the gravity of the situation with humor, which is always the cure for our familial ails. (And believe me, between the two of us, they come aplenty.) She tries desperately to get me to skip class, which I have to get to by 2pm, two counties away on a tiny campus completely unlike this one. I still haven't read M. Butterfly nor done the corresponding homework. I couldn't care less.

12:18pm: Meg urges me to skip once more, but to no avail. I drop her off in a parking lot and fly back to pick up my son at Aunt S.'s. I then drop him off at my grandmother's on the way to class.

1:52pm: I am the third person to arrive in class. I glance at the assignment and realize there's no possible way I can complete it in 8 minutes, so I don't even try. My stomach is churning, so I go to the restroom and think I am dying from cramps and nausea.

2:03pm: I come back to class, but can barely keep my eyes open. When I open my book, which is a different copy of the text everyone else has, I realize that I only have a portion of the assigned reading. The entire play was not in the book, so basically, I have to make up some comments to pretend like I'm following along. It took way too much effort for what I was prepared to give today.

4:30pm: Class over. My professor comments that she hopes I can get some rest because I look tired. I explain to her it's nothing personal, and then I find myself divulging the catastrophic events of the past 24 hours. She is understanding, as usual, but I find myself feeling guilty for revealing yet another personal tragedy to her.

5:17pm: I arrive home, get online briefly to check my e-mail and wait for my husband to come home with our son and supper. We eat Kentucky Fried Chicken and I crash on the couch where I remain until midnight, which is when I finally get up to begin writing part one of this whole blessed story in its entirety...