An Unexpected Life

The incessant beep of the cardiac monitor dimly penetrated the gray mist that enshrouded her. It swirled around, lightening, so that she became somewhat aware of her surroundings.

The walls were robins egg blue, the one opposite striped by the sun shining through white mini blinds that covered the window. There was a pale water stain on the ceiling above her head. It looks like a cricket, she thought vaguely.

Her left arm felt cold as though ice water was traveling in her veins. Looking down, she could see the intravenous tube disappearing under her skin, the clear liquid inside magnifying the fine hairs on her arm. She detected bile mixed with a chalky taste in the back of her throat. I don’t remember throwing up, she thought dully. Tape pulled at the skin on her right cheek and she could vaguely see another narrow tube infused with black in her periphery. Her face itched and she tried to lift her hand to remove the adhesive but it was stopped by a soft restraint at her wrist.

She knew her surroundings were familiar but they were swallowed by the fog before she could place them. Her lids grew heavy and she allowed herself to be engulfed once again by darkness as she listened to the comforting steady chirping of the cricket overhead.

* * * * *

When she opened her eyes again, the sun stripes had taken on a rosey hue and fell across a large wooden door on her left. She could hear muffled male voices at the foot of the bed and she turned her head slightly to see two men in earnest conversation.

That’s John, she thought and observed her husband with detachment. He was a handsome man in an intellectual sort of way with dark wavy hair sprinkled with gray and intensely blue eyes somewhat hidden behind dark rimmed glasses. A slight paunch was masked by a tan cashmere sweater and brown twill pants and he looked trim and reasonably fit for a man in his late forties. His expression was troubled as the other man in a white coat leaned toward him.

He looks so worried, she thought. I hope the girls are OK. She felt that she should know why he was upset but the reason floated out of her reach as she drifted away once more.

* * * * *

She awoke to darkness, save the dim yellowed bulb shining from the bathroom. A silhouette was slumped in the chair by the bed and the even breathing of sleep could be heard. The pulling on her cheek was gone but she still could not lift her hands. She struggled to sit up. What if there was a fire, she thought, feeling the cold fingers of panic closing around her throat. She could hear a low keening sound as the panic spread lower to cast a steel band around her chest making it difficult for her to breathe. The keening sound changed to gasps as she tried to suck air into her lungs and she saw the silhouette become a looming figure standing over her and she began to scream as it pressed her back into the mattress making the feelings of claustrophobia even stronger. Suddenly, the room brightened and a woman entered the room and hurriedly approached the bed. Emily felt something cold and scratchy briefly rubbing her upper arm followed by a quick needle stick. She froze. She could feel her mind cloud over along with the total relaxation of her body. The looming figure let her go and she floated away no longer afraid.

* * * * *

She awoke to gray cold pre-dawn light, her mind clearer. The sound of the cricket became the cardiac monitor beeping in sync with her heart. The looming figure of the darkness became the disheveled rumpled form of her sleeping husband.

John.

He stirred and opened one eye. Seeing her questioning gaze, he came instantly awake, sitting upright as though someone had poked him with a pin. She gave him a tenuous smile. He looked at her warily. She tried to reach out to him but, once again, her hand stopped. She looked at him beseechingly.

“Why am I tied down?” she asked. He just stared at her with disbelief. “Please, John, untie me!” A tear slid from the corner of her eye as he shook his head.

“I can’t”, he whispered.

“But why?”

“Don’t you remember anything?” He looked incredulous.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to think. Remember? Remember what?

“John, please help me. I don’t know what you are talking about!” He just shook his head, covering his face with his hands. “John!” He dropped his hands and just stared at her with disgust.

“Since last night I’ve been waiting for answers from you and now you say you can’t remember.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his telltale sign of impatience. “I can’t do this”. He stood up. “When you have thought things through, I’ll talk to you. But you are the one who should be answering questions, not me. You should be telling me why, why you would do such a thing.” He pulled his jacket off the back of the chair where he had been sleeping and strode to the door. “You think about it, Em. I’ll be back later.” And with that he was gone leaving Emily to stare after him.

She stared at the cricket but it was silent, accusing. She closed her eyes. She had a vague recollection of bright lights and people shouting. A man was barking orders and questions and others responded with rapid fire answers as they hovered around her. The emergency room. She was in the hospital. The cardiac monitor beeped faster as her heart began to race. No, I don’t want to remember, she thought frantically. For just a little while that heavy weight she had been carrying for so long had been taken away along with her memory.

The door to her room opened again and a burly black woman entered wearing a pink uniform that seemed to glow against her dark skin. Her glasses glinted yellow from the bathroom light. Emily could hear muffled squeaks from her shoes as she approached the bed. Her white teeth flashed in a brief smile when she saw Emily’s eyes open but it disappeared when she placed her fingers on her wrist.

“Honey, you need to calm down”, she stated as she straightened the blankets.

“Please go away”, Emily murmured as she turned her face away.

“No can do”, the black woman responded, “but I’ll just sit over here and leave you be.” She snapped on the floor lamp behind a gray chair in the corner. After sitting, she reached under the chair and pulled out a canvas bag from which she extracted yarn and knitting needles. The knobs on the ends flashed and the rapid clicks of the needles echoed in the stillness of the room.

“But I dont want any company”, Emily insisted.

“What you want isn’t the point of my being here. All suicide attempts are on 24 hour watch.” She went back to her knitting.

Suicide. Was that why she was here? No, they were wrong. She hadn’t wanted to die. She just wanted to sleep, sleep for as long as it took for this deep, all consuming pain to go away. It was like wearing a wet, heavy full length wool coat to the beach. She had tried everything to escape it. Keeping busy, watching television, reading, anything to distract herself. But the only relief she ever found was in the oblivion of unconsciousness. It was the only place the pain couldn’t follow her. But now they were telling her that she tried to kill herself. Had she? She wouldn’t believe it.

When had the pain started? Emily didn’t know. She couldn’t remember when it hadn’t been there to some degree. It hovered in the background when she was busy, keeping its distance as though afraid to be seen by others. But when she was alone and it was quiet, it would wrap itself around her like a shroud pressing in on her, making it hard for her to breathe. It was only when she was asleep that she had any peace.

She had started taking over the counter sleeping aids about a year ago. Not often at first and then just one. But sleeping became more difficult so she took them more often. Then she increased the amount to two and later three. It was a struggle to get out of bed some mornings but she managed to get everyone off to school and work and then she went back to bed and slept until early afternoon. She was always up and showered by the time the girls got home from school and dinner was on the table by six o’clock. She would spend the evenings getting chores done and then, when she couldn’t sleep and her thoughts were chasing each other around in her head, she would take the sleeping pills and start the cycle over again.

“Look at you! You are pathetic! I never want to be like you!” The words echoed in her head along with the crash of the slamming door. The look on Monica's face was twisted and distorted with disgust. She had always looked like her father but in that moment, she became him. Emily closed her eyes against the image but that just made it clearer. She was back in the foyer with her daughter arguing about another adolescent crisis. There were at least three everyday but this one escalated until Monica was hissing her contempt of her mother. And in that moment, Emily saw herself as her daughter saw her. She walked woodenly up the stairs to her bedroom. She didn’t remember how long she sat on the edge of the bed but after a while she opened the drawer of her nightstand and took out the bottle of sleeping pills. It was three quarters full. She poured them into her hand and began taking them two by two until they were gone. Then she slipped between the covers and closed her eyes. The next thing she remembered was waking in this hospital room tied to the bed.

A tear slid into her ear. She was so ashamed! The guilt Monica must feel! And who had found her? Monica? Rachel? Oh, God! What had she done to her girls? Her family? Had she really wanted to die? She didn’t think so but she wasn’t sure anymore.

She closed her eyes and took a deep trembling breath. The knitting needles paused in their rhythmic clicking for a moment then resumed. Emily relaxed and listened and soon the sound lost its metallic edge and became the crackling of a warm glowing fire. She could see the flames leaping behind her lids, licking at the wood like hungry tongues. She was mesmerized by it, lulled into the warm, safe haven of sleep. She awoke to complete silence. No cricket, no fire, no knitting needles. The room was dim and dreary as gray clouds roiled in the sky beyond the window. They reflected her state of mind. Suddenly, her room door opened. In walked a bird-like creature with white gossamer hair, piercing gray eyes and a pointed beak like nose. Her movements were quick and sudden as she carried in a tray with a covered plate and placed it on the table by the bed. She rolled it before Emily, removing the stainless steel cover confronting her with a bowl of tepid, gray oatmeal accompanied by some dry toast, an apple and a cup of cranberry juice. The cooked cereal looked like brain matter and made her stomach lurch. The older woman quirked a brow at the grimace on her face.

“See, honey, things can always be worse, she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.” Emily smiled spontaneously. “Now, there’s a lovely site!” the older woman said as she placed the cover back over the oatmeal. “Why don’t you eat the toast and drink the juice. You need to get some of your strength back. My name is Mona and I’ll be your nurse today. I’m just gonna go get my coffee. You eat up now”, she said as she slipped out the door.

Emily reached for the toast, realizing for the first time that her hands were no longer restrained. She managed to choke down the toast and drink the juice. She laid back against the pillows, exhausted, as Mona reentered the room.

“It will get better”, she stated, patting her arm, having returned with a steaming mug that said ‘Nurses Have Great Bedside Manners’. She took a sip of her coffee and pulled the table away. She sat down where the other woman had been the night before laying a newspaper across her lap with a headline that said “Woman Gives Birth to Twins Three Months Apart” and observed Emily, her mug momentarily forgotten . Emily began to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

“I’m sorry, dearie. I didn’t mean to stare. But you are such a lovely little thing. Guess you can’t judge a book by its cover.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked, warily.

“I just don’t understand what would possess you to try and take your own life”, she answered bluntly. Emily dropped her gaze. She could feel color creeping into her cheeks.

“It was an accident”, Emily murmured. “I didn’t realize how many I took.”

Pearl snorted. “Keep telling everyone that and you may convince yourself.”

Emily stared at her for a minute, stunned and angry. How dare this stranger say something like that to her?

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, dearie”, Mona said, responding to the indignant look on her face. “Besides, what are you mad about? What I said or that what I said is true?” Emily just looked at her. Mona just winked and shrugged, picking up the tabloid from her lap and began leafing through it as she leisurely sipped her coffee.

Emily leaned back and closed her eyes trying not to think about what Mona had said but it was impossible. All of the memories of the the other night flooded her mind and she felt overwhelmed. You need to calm down, Em, she thought soothingly to herself. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. This will all be over soon and you will be able to go home and things will go back to normal.

The squeak of the door opening was a welcome distraction until she saw John’s grave face peek in through the opening. He didn’t look happy to see her. He seemed caught off guard by her return regard as he tentatively entered the room.

“I thought you’d be sleeping”, he said disappointedly. He looked at his watch and then put his hands in his pockets as though he didn’t know what to do with them. He met her gaze briefly and then his eyes skittered away as though he didn’t know where to put those either. He walked around the room slowly and finally stopped at the foot of the bed. “Doctor Crowley said he would meet me here”, he added weakly. Emily didn’t respond to his obvious need for reinforcements. She just dropped her gaze, disconcerted by his obvious discomfort. Mona just sat in her seat silently observing, her sharp gray eyes taking in the entire scene, the gears turning in her head were almost audible as she assessed the situation. She could just imagine what the woman was thinking.

The hinges squeaked again and all three heads simultaneously turned to see a short, balding, rotund man with wired spectacles at the end of his nose enter the room. He reminded Emily of an elf with his ruddy complexion and finely trimmed mustache. He gave her a benevolent smile.

“How are we doing this morning?” he asked rhetorically. “Good morning, Mona. Would you excuse us please?”

“Certainly, Doctor”, Mona answered meekly, her tone contradicting the spark in her intelligent gray eyes. She walked quickly and quietly to the door, giving Emily a quick wink only she saw and slipped out.

“How do you do, Mr. McPherson? We spoke on the phone”, Dr. Crowley said as he extended his hand to grasp John’s.

“Yes”, he answered, extending his own.

Dr. Crowley turned and looked at Emily. “Mrs. McPherson, I am here to discuss your options in dealing with the hospital protocol for people in your situation.” He cleared his throat and turned toward John, dismissing Emily after his momentary acknowledgment. “Now I understand that this whole……thing is very traumatic but there are certain rules that must be followed. Patients that have…. taken such drastic steps, need very special care at this delicate time. It is the hospital’s responsibility to see that this care is provided. Now, for patients who are not able to make arrangements of their own, the hospital sees to it that they are placed in an appropriate facility. However, you will most likely want to pursue this care privately. There are quite a few private hospitals to choose from that will meet your needs and they are more desirable than any publicly assisted facility that we would be obligated to place your wife in.” He gave Emily a brief glance as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his lab coat pocket. “Here are the names and numbers of the most reputable places in the area. I have taken the liberty of contacting the first one on the list and they have a bed available. I suggest you not take too much time since placement is on a first come, first serve basis. Your wife will be discharged tomorrow morning and if the proper arrangements have not been made, we will have to send her to the first public hospital that has a bed regardless of your feelings on the subject.” He shrugged. “Im sorry, that’s the law. Let me know if there is anything we can do to help. He placed his hand gently on John's arm. I understand how difficult this is but try to look at this as the first step toward recovery.” He turned and headed for the door. "Let the staff know what you have decided and we will get the ball rolling," he said and was gone.

I'm glad he was concerned with what John was 'going through' Emily thought with annoyance. Instead she asked, " What is he talking about?" Emily looked at John expectantly. John looked very uncomfortable.

Didn’t you hear what he said?”

“I heard him even though he wasn't talking to me but I didn’t quite understand. Something about it being the hospital’s responsibility that care is provided. What kind of care? I feel much better although Im not so naïve that I think this is the end of it. I’m sure that psychiatric care will be necessary. Is that what he meant? Helping me find a shrink?”

John ran his hand through his hair and Emily knew he was becoming agitated.

“You really don’t get this do you?” He asked, exasperated.

“Get what?” Emily replied, impatience in her own voice. “That everyone thinks I tried to kill myself? That I can’t be left alone even for a moment while I’m here? Yeah, I get it. But I didn’t want to die. I just wanted to sleep. I guess I took too many pills. I’m sorry! I didn’t do it on purpose!” Her eyes filled with tears but even with her blurred vision she could see the look of frustration on Johns face.

“How do you take an almost full bottle of sleeping pills by mistake?” he asked scathingly. “Can’t you read? The directions say no more than two! So, what is everyone supposed to think? God!” He turned his back on her, trying to control his anger. After a moment, he faced her again. “It doesn’t matter right now what your intentions were. The fact is that you had to be brought in here in an ambulance and have your stomach pumped to keep you alive. And because of that, you now have to go to a mental hospital for thirty days observation. Lucky for you we have good insurance and you wont have to go to the hell hole the hospital would send you to.

“What?!” Emily was stunned. A Mental hospital? Did they think she was crazy? She didn’t belong in a mental institution, she wanted to go home. “John, you cant let them do this! I don’t belong in a place like that!”

“Really? Well, where do you belong? Certainly not home with my children!” John stated angrily. Emily flinched. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” he hissed at her. “You still haven’t asked me what happened. Don’t you want to know who found you?” Emily covered her face with her trembling hands, shrinking from what he was about to tell her. She wished he would just disappear, that the floor would open and swallow him up. But he was relentless, his anger was palpable. “It was Rachel!” he spat at her. My little Rachel”, he croaked out in a horse whisper.

“No, no, no”, she sobbed uncontrollably. Her slight frame shook as the waves of grief broke over her. Not Rachel. Her wonderful, lovely Rachel.

John looked viciously satisfied knowing he had hurt her, wanting to do it again. “So now you will do exactly as you are told and you won’t cause any more trouble or any more pain.” He strode to the door. “I will be back in the morning when you are released and I will take you to the other hospital. I will take care of all the arrangements and do what is expected of me. My duty. But I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive you for this, Emily.” And with that he pulled open the door and disappeared. Emily just sat there, tears streaming unchecked down her face. And then the dam broke and she cried all the pain and grief and unhappiness of the past thirty-eight years. Mona slipped in on silent feet and approached her. She held her arms open and Emily fell into them and allowed herself to be comforted for the first time she could ever remember and it made her burden a little lighter.

“It’s alright, sweetie”, Mona crooned, stroking her hair as though she were a little girl. “You go ahead and cry. That will start the healing.”

“What have I done”, Emily sobbed. “My youngest daughter found me. What have I done to my little girl?”

“Well, you wont know until you see her, honey, but, either way, there is nothing you can do to change it now. Try not to worry.” They were empty words and both women knew it but they also knew that nothing else could be said.

Finally, Emily’s tears were spent. Exhausted, she leaned back upon the pillows and closed her eyes. Mona stood up. “Im just gonna go sit over there. Why don’t you try and rest. I’ll turn on the TV. That will help take your mind off things.” The TV clicked on and two perfectly coiffed women in fashionable clothes stood talking about their fictional problems on one of the popular soap operas. Emily closed her eyes.