There’s a pay phone in the hall by the nurse’s office that accepts incoming calls. There’s a lady named Jane who sits by the phone all day, like she’s the psych ward secretary. She says she’s waiting for a call, but she won’t say from whom. Her face lights up when the phone rings, but it falls just as fast as she listens to the person on the other line ask for someone else. She won’t say anything, won’t yell out who the call is for. She’ll just drop the receiver, let it hang there on its curly cord with the person on the line saying, “Hello? Hello?” She’ll wander off, so you have to just hope that someone else is there to direct the abandoned calls. When you’re done talking, Jane materializes out of nowhere so she can take back her perch and wait by the phone again. The call is never for her.
The usual crew is wailing for pain meds again. Yesterday, they seemed to all have sprained ankles. Today it is migraines. Half of the people in here are drug addicts or alcoholics, in addition to being crazy. I try to picture my brother here, but I can’t remember what he looks like.
I can’t stop puking and my hands are shaking like the alcoholic schizophrenic’s down the hall. The doctor says it’s probably the medication, but he made me take a pregnancy test just in case. What kind of horrible god would even think of putting a life inside me? Who’s crazy now?
Top Ten Lamest Things About the Psych Ward:
10. The food
9. The way people get discharged and just leave without saying good-bye
8. Family visits
7. The lack of decorations
6. No reading after lights-out at 10:00 every night
5. The people who can’t even remember how many times they’ve been here
4. The brown socks
3. The padded room
2. The loneliness
1. The absence of you