Big, Locking Doors

Count All This — Chapter 6: into the lion’s mouth

Just when Jo Kasten’s adult son encounters schizophrenia, she discovers she has breast cancer. Meanwhile, her marriage faces a test. Count All This is a story about love and loyalty, addiction and madness. This is the sixth chapter. Find the first chapter here.

Back at Sisters of Infinite Beneficence Hospital, Eddy and Larry were just being released from the back room into the emergency department lobby as Michael and I walked in from outside. “Hey, Eddy. Let me see your stitches,” Michael rushed up to say.

“Nah. It’s all taped up.” Eddy waved off his little brother like an annoying insect.

“How many did you get?”

“I don’t know. Eight maybe.”

“I still got you beat then,” Michael beamed, brandishing his palm, where a long, thin line snaked across the surface in the wrong direction, a souvenir of the day he’d swung excitedly around a slender tree in the sidewalk, not noticing the nail that was protruding from its trunk. “I got 12.”

Eddy batted the air again as he looked out the glass doors to the parking lot and saw the sun was setting. “What time is it?” he asked.

“About 6:30.”

“Maybe we should go home and eat something before we go across the hall? Dad was telling me about the pesto pasta he made last night.”

“No, let’s go straight across.” I flashed on the times I’d spent as a child on the family “ranch” — four hundred acres of mud and dirt bound by shambling fences in Atwater, all surrounding a dusty one-room shack and corrugated-tin barn. Whenever we arrived, the first order of business was to round up the horses we wanted to ride. We’d walk slowly out into the fields, closing the pasture gates gently behind us, holding the bridles behind our backs…

“I can run home to get a bowl of pasta for you while you’re being interviewed,” I offered.

That seemed to satisfy him, so we settled into a little foursome around a coffee table near the elevator, as if we were going to have tea or play Settlers of Catan, Eddy’s favorite board game. Moments later, a woman with long brown hair and a placid face came out to talk to us. She paused a moment, looking from person to person, confused.

“Are you looking for Eddy?” Larry prompted. “That’s him,” he pointed.

“Oh, I see. And the rest of you are…?”

“The rest of us are here with him. I’m his father, that’s his mother, and that’s his little brother.”

“How nice that he has such a supportive family,” she smiled. “What I’d like to do is interview him alone first. Then I’ll come out to get you, and interview his parents alone. Then we can all come together and discuss what we discovered. Okay?”

Eddy was reluctant. “I’m a little hungry,” he said. “My mom was going to get some food and bring it back to me. Can she bring it to me while we’re talking?”

“Sure. That’s no problem. Your mom can just tell the nurses she has something that she wants to bring back.”

She waited for a moment as the four of us sat there. Then Ed stood up. We watched as she pressed in a code to open the heavy locked doors that gave admittance to the back rooms on the other side of the lobby. Eddy was still barefoot, and I worried that he would step on a contaminated needle. He turned and waved to us as he passed through the door.

It only took half an hour to go home for the pasta. When I returned, a nurse buzzed me in and I walked back to find Eddy alone, lying on a bed with thick chrome railings. He seemed to be sleeping. “I brought you some food,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake him.

“Oh, thanks.” He sounded groggy. He didn’t reach for the bowl.

“Where is the woman who took you back here? I thought she was supposed to be interviewing you.”

“She already did that. I don’t think I gave the right answers. She’s in the next room now, talking on the phone. All this is getting boring. I’m ready to go home.”

“Okay. But we’re going to have to talk to her first. Here’s the pasta, if you still want it.” I put the bowl down on a counter. “I’ll go see if I can hurry her up.”

In the next room, I found the brown-haired woman talking on the phone, and a man looking at a computer screen. She saw me in the doorway, and held one finger up. “The parent is here now. I’ll call you back,” she said into the mouthpiece. Then she put the phone down and gave me a big smile. “Let’s go get your husband. I think it’s time for us to talk.”

After retrieving Larry, she shepherded the two of us into a small office across the hall from Eddy. She told Michael to wait in the little alcove adjacent to the computer room where she’d been on the phone. The brightly-lit alcove held a couch, a few chairs, a wall of closed cupboards and a closed circuit TV, mirroring back a black and white image of the alcove. Michael looked unhappy.

“Can’t I go sit with Eddy?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.” The woman’s manner was gracious, non- threatening, and Michael visibly relaxed before she closed the door to our room. Once inside, she asked a long series of questions about Eddy’s childhood, personality, and behavior to date. Larry and I took turns supplying the details, sometimes in agreement, sometimes in dispute. I reiterated my theory that Eddy’s present state of mind had been caused by the use of hallucinogenic drugs.

“Even if it was, he hasn’t taken any recently,” she said, “at least if we can believe what he says is true. So what we’re dealing with here is no longer a drug reaction. What we’re dealing with here is a state of mental instability that needs further study and review.”

“I had something very similar happen to me in college,” I admitted. “I took LSD, and had a nervous breakdown that lasted for a few weeks. What they did for me at the time — what my father did for me — was give me tranquilizers. Can’t we just get some tranquilizers for Eddy, and see if his condition improves once he gets a little sleep? I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been eating or sleeping at his new apartment. I bet with some food and sleep, he’ll be good as new.”

“That sounds good to me, but it’s not what the doctor is recommending. I’m not the doctor. I’m consulting with him on the phone. Dr. Hu feels pretty strongly that Eddy should be admitted to the hospital.”

“Admitted?” said Larry. “Wait a minute. What does Eddy think about this?”

“I haven’t asked him.”

“Well don’t you think you ought to?”

“Frankly, at this point, it isn’t up to Eddy. It isn’t even up to the two of you. If the doctor thinks he should be admitted for observation, then he’s going to be admitted.”

“But we thought it had to be voluntary!”

“That’s true when there isn’t any perceived risk to himself or others. But since Eddy hurt himself, the doctor sees a risk of further injury.”

“Wait a minute,” Larry said. “Where is this doctor? How can he make a decision when he hasn’t even met our son? What do you think? You’re doing the interviews. Doesn’t what you think matter?”

“Well, I’m inclined to go along with you. If Eddy were all alone, I’d say he definitely needs to be admitted to the hospital. His thinking is confused. He’s having visual and perhaps auditory hallucinations. He’s harmed himself and seems to be both paranoid and psychotic at this point. There’s evidence of grandiosity. But since you are both here, and willing to care for him, I think it might be appropriate to release him into your custody. Who knows? You may be right. Maybe all he needs is a little rest. But as I said earlier, I’m not the doctor. I don’t make the decision. It’s up to him.”

“Can we talk to this doctor?”

“Sure you can. Let me see if I can get him on the phone for you.”

She rose to open the door and we spilled into the hallway as if expelled by the tiny airless room. We found Eddy and Michael both in the cramped alcove brightly lit by fluorescent lights. Ed sat on the floor, his legs crossed meditation style. He held his injured hand in the air before him and stared at it intently. Michael lay on the couch, his hand over his eyes. Their images were projected in black and white on the small TV in the corner. I wondered where else it was broadcasting, and who was watching. Larry followed the woman to her phone by the bank of computers while I went into the alcove with the boys.

“How’s it going in here?”

“Very well!” Eddy answered brightly. “I’m healing my hand. Are you done with your discussion? Are we ready to go home yet?”

“I don’t know Eddy. There’s some question. The woman is saying she thinks you should stay in the hospital for more observation. What do you think about that?”

Eddy leapt to his feet in a single motion. “I don’t know, man. Everything’s getting a little jumpy here.” He started pacing back and forth. “I was fine on my own. I was really peaceful in the bathroom. I put my hand in the toilet, and watched the blood swirl down the drain. It was like I was vibrating at the optimum level or something, and I could hear the underlying music, you know? But then all these people started getting in on the act, and now I’m losing my connection.” Eddy looked at me with frustration. His eyes were shining. I could feel heat pouring off him. Then he tilted his head to the side, spotting something behind me, and I turned to see that a security guard was now standing in the other room. What is he doing there? Surely he hasn’t come because of Eddy?!?! He wasn’t looking at us; he was leaning casually on the counter. Maybe he was just visiting while making his rounds…

“Just a minute, Eddy. Let me go talk to Dad.”

In the next room, I found the woman on the phone, the man still staring at a computer screen (was he the one monitoring the alcove?), the security guard leaning casually against the counter, saying nothing, and Larry standing anxiously by.

“Eddy’s getting worse in there,” I told him quietly. “He says he put his hand in the toilet up on the campus and watched his blood swirl down the drain. He thinks he’s healing his hand by staring at it.”

“What are you saying to me?” Larry gave me a hard look.

“I don’t know…” I looked anxiously around the room for an answer. “It’s just…maybe they should keep him.”

Larry looked shocked. “Are you willing to let them take him against his will!?”

“I don’t know. I’m scared. He’s acting so crazy.”

“Well I’m not willing to do that. He’ll calm down once we get him home. As soon as she gets the doctor on the phone, I’m going to try to talk him out of it.” Then he leaned closer and whispered, “What is that security guard doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Maybe they called him to keep an eye on Eddy?”

We looked at each other with alarm.

“Okay,” the woman interrupted. “I’ve got Dr. Hu on the line. Why don’t you take it in the other room?”

Larry followed her across the hall to the small office where we’d been interviewed. I returned to the alcove. “Daddy’s talking to the doctor now, Eddy. He’s going to try to talk him into letting you come home with us.”

“It isn’t up to the doctor, is it?” He was still up and pacing.

“They’re telling us that it is.”

“Why are you doing this?” Michael blurted from his place on the couch, where he lay with his arm flung over his face. His voice was thick with tears. I was buffeted by a storm of guilt.

Why did I bring Michael here? Why did I let him come? He is just a 14-year-old boy! He shouldn’t be exposed to this!!! Oh, my God. I’m a terrible mother! What’s wrong with me? But when I spoke, I tried to use a casual tone, imitating his father. “Doing what, Michael? Don’t cry, Honey. What’s the matter? There’s nothing wrong.”

“Why are you letting them take Eddy away?!” he shouted at me.

“Michael!” I was shocked. My youngest child never yelled. “We’re not letting them take him. We’re trying to talk them out of it.”

“Why did you bring him here in the first place? He isn’t crazy! Why did you tell them he was?!” He swiped his hand across his runny nose and blotchy red face.

“I did not tell them that! I just said I was worried!”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” Ed lunged suddenly in the direction of the security guard, who flinched, but didn’t leave his spot at the counter. Michael groaned and rolled over on his side, facing the wall. I put the palm of my hand against my forehead, as if the pressure could calm my racing thoughts, and crossed the hall to the office. Inside, I heard Larry talking quietly to the doctor.

“We think he just needs to come home and calm down a little…We disagree.” He looked at me and shook his head.

“Can I talk to him?”

“Look doctor, my wife’s here. She wants to talk to you.” He handed me the phone and shook his head.

“Dr. Hu, this is Eddy’s mother. I know you’re thinking you’d like to keep him here for observation, but I’m not sure that’s going to be the best thing for him. What I’d like to do is get a prescription for tranquilizers. I’m pretty sure once he’s slept, he’ll settle down.”

“I don’t think benzodiazepines are indicated at the moment,” the doctor said in an authoritative voice. “Your son has already harmed himself once. I don’t want to give him something that’s going to weaken his inhibitions. Who’s to say he won’t harm himself again?”

“But he wasn’t really trying to harm himself! It wasn’t like he was trying to commit suicide or something. He just put his hand through a window in a fit of spontaneity. He just thought for some reason that it would be cool.”

“I’m aware of that. And the fact that he sustained a laceration large enough to require eight stitches, yet didn’t understand the seriousness of the injury, didn’t immediately seek help, tells me that he is a risk to himself.”

“I really don’t think he’s going to hurt himself…” my voice trailed off.

“Don’t you? Why not? How will you feel if he does? You say you want to take him home, but who is going to watch him there? Are you going to be able to stay awake 24 hours a day to keep an eye on him? What will you do if he gets up and leaves?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Let me talk to him.” Larry said impatiently, taking back the phone.

I wandered back into the alcove, where I found Eddy and Michael sitting next to each other on the couch. Michael rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. Ed sat with his back erect and his eyes closed, breathing loudly. The security guard was still leaning on the counter outside.

I sat next to my children dispiritedly and wondered if the man in the next room was watching us on his computer monitor. Why did they need a closed circuit TV, anyway? Couldn’t they just look at us through the door? And if they did need to spy, why did they put a monitor in the alcove to make us aware of it? Wasn’t surveillance supposed to be secret? The monitor, the bright lights, the chemical smell of the hospital, and the close, cramped room oppressed me. I felt frustrated, stupid, injured, and wrong.

“Dad’s still talking to the doctor,” I told my sons quietly. “He’s not easy to convince.”

“I’m tired,” Michael moaned. “When are we going home?”

“I don’t know, Honey. I’m tired, too. We all are.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Ed offered. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay here. I mean, it’s all an experience, right?”

My mood instantly lifted. “Are you sure, Eddy?” I felt the tension draining from the room. If they were going to take him anyway, it would be best for all concerned if he wanted to go.

“No, I’m not sure. But I think so. I heard they can’t keep me for more than 72 hours anyway. So I’m thinking it might be fun.”

“Okay, Baby,” I whispered, hurrying to seal the deal before he changed his mind. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll go tell Dad.”

“Wait a minute. How long can they keep me?”

“Just 72 hours. That’s what the woman told me. She called it a 72-hour hold.”

“Okay.”

Larry was coming out of the office. He looked tired and worried. I hurried to him and put my hand on his. “Eddy says he wants to stay now.”

“Really?” His face lightened.

I nodded. “He says he figures it will be an experience.”

“Well, I better get back on the phone, then, because I just convinced the doctor to let him leave with us!” Larry gave a little laugh. Then he walked over to the computer table and interrupted the woman who was conferring with Dr. Hu on the phone.

“Never mind. He says he wants to stay now.”

Once we were all in agreement, it took another 20 minutes for them to complete the paperwork and get off the damn phone. We sat together in the alcove, under the tiny television monitor. Eddy seemed nervous, but also giddy, excited. He talked rapidly of random things that had happened that day. Larry made an occasional dry joke. Michael looked morose. I wondered if he would ever forgive me for exposing him to this trauma, or if he ever should. Outside the alcove, another security guard came to stand next to the first one. Finally, the woman entered, smiling, and reassured us.

“Everything is in order now. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. They’re ready for you now up on the unit, Eddy. I bet you’ll be glad to finally get into bed.” She indicated a big, black clock on the wall. It was almost 1 a.m. “Are you ready?”

Eddy nodded.

“Okay son,” the security guard spoke for the first time, stepping into our alcove. “It’s time to go now.”

We all stood up and watched as Ed allowed the guard to take one of his arms. Once they stepped into the larger room, the second guard took the other.

“Bye honey,” I called after him weakly. “We’ll come see you tomorrow.”

Eddy kept his eyes closed and his breathing loud and steady as he walked between the two big men through another heavy, locked, impenetrable door.

That was the sixth chapter of my novel, Count All This. To continue, follow the free chapter links below or buy a digital copy of the whole book on Amazon, where leaving a rating or review will help others find my story.

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