Committed

There was a knock at the door.

“Time for your medication,” announced a nurse in crisp, blue scrubs.

“Don’t worry, drooling is just a side effect of the medication,” she said, as she wiped Virginia’s mouth. “I’m Jane and I’ll be your nurse for the day.”

When Virginia tried to reach up to wipe her own face, she noticed her hands were restrained. Fear crept into her groggy mind.

The nurse cranked up the hospital bed, then offered her a styro-foam cup and three little pills. “Here, take these.” Virginia turned her head away from the nurse in defiance.

Dazed and confused, she twisted her arms at an attempt to free them and asked, “Why are my hands tied? What’s going on? Where am I?”

“You don’t remember?” The nurse held out the pills once again.

“No.”

“You’re in Harris County Psychiatric Center. It’s a hospital for the mentally ill.”

“What’re you talking about?” Virginia Bloomberg asked, still trying to break free from the restraints on her wrists. “Get these off me!”

“First take these pills, and I’ll see what I can do.”

The nurse put the pills to her lips and helped her wash them down with water. Jane stayed with her in the room until she drifted to sleep.

At daybreak, Jane came in and informed her that the doctor said she was making progress. He ordered the restraints taken off. Jane then escorted Virginia to breakfast. The eggs, bacon and fresh-squeezed orange juice smelled heavenly and she couldn’t wait to dig in.

While eating her meal, Jane said, “After breakfast, you’ll be attending therapy with Doctor Finch.” Virginia nodded.

During her therapy session, Dr. Finch asked her a number of questions. “Do you know where you are, Mrs. Bloomberg?”

“Jane told me I was at a mental health center,” she replied, observing Dr. Finch’s thick glasses and beard that covered most of his face.

“Yes, and do you know how long you’ve been here?” he asked, sipping his coffee, while jotting down notes.

“No.”

“You’ve been here about two months. You’re just now stabilizing on your medication.”

“What medication am I taking?”

“Depakote.”

“What’s that for?”

“It’s for people who suffer from Bipolar disorder.” He adjusted his glasses.

“What is Bipolar disorder?”

“It’s a mood disorder marked by alternative episodes of depression and mania. If left untreated, one can progress into a psychotic state.”

“Well, why am I here?”

“We’ll discuss that later. For now, I just want you to focus on getting yourself well.” Dr. Finch got up and shook Virginia’s hand. “That’s all I have for today, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Virginia returned to her room. Bored, she decided to take a nap. After two hours, she woke and went to the dayroom. Other patients were playing Monopoly, watching TV, or reading. She sat down on the couch.

“Smoke break,” she heard the tech announce.

Most of the patients got up and followed the tech outside.

“Where are they going?” Virginia asked the woman sitting next to her.

“They go outside around this time everyday.”

“Anyone can go?”

“Sure.”

“Hmm…”

Later that evening, it was time for visitors. Virginia sat in the dayroom alone observing the other patients with their families.

I wonder why no one came to visit me?

The next day in therapy, Dr. Finch asked her more in-depth questions.

“Have you been hearing any voices?”

“No,” she replied, biting her nails.

“Do you feel anxious?”

“No,” she replied, putting her hands down by her side.

“That’s good. Do you remember anything that happened when you first arrived here?”

“No.”

“Just the other day, we moved you to your own room. Before that, you stayed in a padded cell. Do you remember that?”

“I told you, no.”

“Okay, okay. You were there because when you arrived, you were in a psychotic state. The techs could not get you under control. You were violent and we had to give you Haldol to calm you down.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I just want you to eventually recall the events that led you here.”

“Why don’t you just tell me?”

“In time, I will. For now, we’ll just take things slow.”

“No, damn it, I want to know now!” she demanded, turning red.

“Now don’t get yourself all worked up, Mrs. Bloomberg. The reason I won’t tell you is because I wish for you to figure it out on your own. That’s how I will know you are truly getting better.”

“I feel better.”

“Yes, but your mind has blocked out your trauma.”

“What trauma?”

“Now, Mrs. Bloomberg. Just relax. We will talk more tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Virginia said, as she exited the doctor’s office.

The next day, Virginia decided to go outside when the tech called for a smoke break. While outside, she struck up a conversation with the woman she had met the previous day.

“Hi, my name is Virginia. We met yesterday.”

“Yes, I remember. My name’s Alice. How long are you here for?”

“I don’t know. The doctor hasn’t even told me why I’m here.”

Alice leaned against the brick wall and puffed on a cigarette.

“What are you here for?” Virginia asked.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, “ Alice responded, flinging her cigarette to the ground.

“Time to go back inside,” the tech shouted.

Everyone lined up and followed each other in a single-file line back to the dayroom. Every night, during visiting hours, Virginia sat alone wondering why her family never came to visit. One day, she’d had enough and knew she must force the doctor to answer her questions. During their following therapy session, she demanded the truth.

“Why am I here, doctor? And why doesn’t anyone ever come to visit me? Have you contacted my family? Do they know I’m here?”

“Now, now, Virginia, please try to remain calm.”

“No, doctor! I am sick and tired of you telling me to calm down. I need to know the truth. Why don’t you just tell me the truth?”

“I believe you are not ready for the truth. It could cause you to have a setback.”

“I don’t care. I can’t wait another day.”

“Very well, Mrs. Bloomberg. Hold on a second.”

Dr. Finch buzzed the front desk.

“Excuse me, I need two techs in my office, now. Thank you.”

Dr. Finch and Virginia sat in an awkward silence. When they heard a knock on the door, Dr. Finch rose and let the two techs in. “Thank you for coming. I’ll need you to remain here for the rest of my therapy session with Mrs. Bloomberg.”

“What’s all this? Why is their presence necessary?” Virginia asked.

“Okay Mrs. Bloomberg, you wanted to know the truth. I told you when you came here that you were psychotic and violent, right?

“Yes.”

“Apparently, from the police report and from other family members, we realized the psychosis was brought on after a postpartum depression. Do you remember being depressed?”

“Vaguely.”

“Do you recall anything about your daughter?”

“Yeah, I just had a new baby girl about six months ago.”

“Well, sometimes after a woman has a new baby, she can experience what’s called Postpartum Depression. That’s when a woman is blue after having a baby, but the sad feelings don’t go away. For most women suffering from Postpartum Depression, the blue feelings eventually dissipate. But for people with mental illness who are unmedicated, the stress causes the person to progress directly into a Postpartum Psychosis. You had never been diagnosed with your mental illness. Most people have a psychotic episode in their teens, but you had yours a little later in life. The stress of the new baby, along with sleep deprivation, caused your brain to shut down and you just fell out of touch with reality. That is how the brain copes with stress sometimes. When one is psychotic, they can be a danger to themselves and others.”

“What are you saying, doctor?”

“Mrs. Bloomberg, the reason you have no visitors…”

Doctor Finch hesitated.

“The reason you have no visitors is because during your psychotic state, you strangled your daughter and stabbed your husband seventeen times.”

“No!” Virginia screamed in horror, as the techs grabbed her arms.

“Take her to the padded cell and put her in a straight jacket. I’m sorry, Mrs. Bloomberg.”

Virginia continued screaming and struggling as they dragged her away.

-

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