Gold Earrings

It had been almost six years since her last hospital stay. Anxiety
Disorder accompanied by Agoraphobia and the resultant Depression
and withdrawal from the outside world. She knew the words and their
definitions, that didn't make them go away. She could hear faint
voices like a radio with the volume turned down, it was just the
hum of the air conditioning she thought impatiently.

"Will this be another beginning or the beginning of the end?" Julia
wondered aloud. The more she thought about it, she realized she
didn't actually give a damn. A change, one way or another, was
enough for now. What little good there was in her life was covered
with the dust of doubt and cobwebs of irrational fears. She looked
around her room for perhaps the final time and took a glimpse in
the mirror. She was dressed smartly, made up, manicured and
pedicured. Her good jewelry glittered alluringly. A small bag,
packed neatly, lay on the camel back trunk at the foot of the bed.
She had taken the lethal dose of painkillers out of her purse
finally, they would have been confiscated anyway.
"It's time to leave, Ms. Langley." the officer informed her, professionally patient but leaving no room for doubt that he would
not tolerate being disobeyed.

Julia picked up her bag and purse and strode into the living room where the other policeman was waiting. They flanked her and
escorted her out to the waiting vehicle. A neighbor, watering her
flowers looked on with mild curiosity as they seated her in the
back seat, putting her luggage and purse up front, on the other
side of the wire mesh. Julia was relieved that these men weren't in
uniform. It made for a more seemly exit from her former life.

"Are you comfortable?" one of the gentlemen asked with flawless
politeness.

"Sehr bequem Danke~Offizier. Gehen Sie bitte weiter." She replied
in German. (Quite comfortable, thank you Officer, please proceed.)
She was too tired to play along and the officer's brief look of
annoyance pleased her beyond measure. He turned his back to her and
she was satisfied there would be no more conversation.


She leaned back in the seat and all but closed her eyes as they
drove her to the Asylum. She didn't want to be rude, but she had
given them no trouble and this was just a job to them. She was
certain they had had more exciting experiences, even dangerous
ones. When the Crisis Line determines that you are a danger to
yourself, you are not allowed to drive. That made sense as far as
it went. The cost of an ambulance was prohibitive, so her only
choice was police escort. She spent the rest of her ride counting
the number of times they glanced at her in the rear view mirror.
She understood what a specimen under a microscope must feel like,
tiny and completely vulnerable.

Upon arrival, there were endless clerks, insurance forms and
questions to be answered and recorded on the proper forms. The
office personnel seemed slightly surprised to see that she had
packed the requisite 3 changes of clothes, sleepwear and basic
toiletries. She hadn't planned to have a mental breakdown, but it
had been a slow and painful process. She had simply prepared for
it. Her extra care with her toilette had been a remnant of vanity,
she wanted them to know she had been a real person at one time.
There was no make~up or perfume in her luggage and the clothes had
been selected for simplicity and comfort.

A nurse took her to a room with two beds. Stripes of afternoon
sunlight lay on the floor from the barred windows. The efficient
lady in white listed the ground rules, where to unpack her clothes,
also her purse and 2 cartons of cigarettes would be kept in a
locker behind the Nurse's Station for safety, her roommate would be
back shortly, etc., etc.

"Where can I go to smoke?" Julia interrupted.

"We have a special room and you get one cigarette every two hours."
the nurse (Joyce, by her name-tag) explained with a pained
expression at having her monologue interrupted.

"When will I be able to smoke?" Julia persisted trying to keep the
quaver out of her voice.

"In half an hour." Joyce replied, "Would you like a dinner tray
brought to your room until then? The rest of the patients are
eating."

"No need," Julia informed her "I'll put my things away and get
settled."

Joyce gave a cursory smile and made her exit. In some weird way, it
was comforting to know she was no longer responsible for herself.
She quickly put her things neatly in the few drawers and sat
shakily down on the twin bed. She clasped her hands to quell their
trembling mutiny. Her heart beat was staccato and she stared out
the window at a scenic parking lot until her nicotine cravings were
satisfied.

There was an interesting mix in the smoke room. A Goth chick
complete with spider web tattoo and black nail polish. The girl was
maybe 5 feet tall, 90 pounds and cursed every other word and talked
about all the butt she had kicked. Julia pegged her for anger
management problems. There was a friendly, soft spoken cheerful guy
who didn't seem like he belonged here at all, but Julia had seen
him speak to a couple of patients trying to bum a cigarette and
switched his handle from Mr. Personality to Mr. Snow Job Artist.
There was a vaguely smiling lady who talked to no one and whose
eyes never completely focused on anything. She was just there,
barely. There were a couple of undernourished men who looked like
actors hired to play down and out winos. The rest were sensory
overload for now.

Returning to the ward, Julia noticed several people in line for
their meds so she joined the queue and gave the nurse her name when
her turn came.

"Didn't you just join us today?" Nurse Pat asked looking at a
list. "We don't have Doctor's Orders on you yet, you'll have to
wait until tomorrow~next please."

Julia turned away and walked thoughtfully down the hall to her
room. If you never trust anyone, you'll never be disappointed.
Would an alcoholic be caught dead without a small flask tucked away
for a rainy day? Stepping into the bathroom, she felt underneath
her left breast and removed 1 of 2 Xanex tablets she had taped to
the inside of her bra and swallowed it. She then lay down on her
bed tightly hugging reality and herself.

A morbidly obese woman walked into the room breathing strenuously
and lay down on the other bed. Julia could hear the bed-frame
whining in protest and watched as the lady settled in place. She
didn't so much lie down as her arms gave out and her upper torso
fell into the bed. Her legs were fascinating, each calf as big as a
Butterball Turkey. Her feet did not touch each other or the
mattress, just hung limply suspended.

"Psssst" came from the doorway and Julia saw two nurses beckoning
to her surreptitiously.

"If you could leave for about 10 minutes, we need to talk to
Linda," one whispered. "She doesn't fit in the showers here and we
need to take her up to the next floor and help clean up. She
doesn't voluntarily bathe."

Julia had noticed the oder, so she nodded and walked down to the
Rec Room. There she met a guy with lots of medical allergies who
had been here 2 months an an extremely talkative older lady who had
suffered internal head trauma as a child (she learned these things
over the next few days). Julia waited her allotted time and
fled back to her room. Since there seemed to be no structured
activities, she eventually put on her pajamas and went to bed. The
two nurses brought Linda back and helped her to bed. Julia had a
vague foreboding that this inpatient experience would be nothing
like her former hospital visit.

It was hard to sleep in a strange bed and a groan in the early
morning hours woke Julia, the source of the groaning was Linda. In
the half light she was squirming on the mattress. Julia perceived
that Linda was trying to get up and her arms were barely strong
enough to push herself to a setting position. The pungent smell of
hot urine spread through the room, Linda cursed and dropped back on
the bed. Julia turned her back and floated back to sleep. So much
for the fresh shower.

The next several days passed slowly. Julia's medication orders were
straightened out and she felt relieved on that score. Time passed
in a maddening slow way like a dripping faucet. There were few
therapy sessions and relaxation groups. Most of the time patients
wandered aimlessly up and down the halls or were taken to a room to
watch old movies from the cheap rental section. Julia idly wondered
how much her insurance was being billed to watch "Thelma & Louise"
and keep an eye on the clock between smoke breaks.

Julia's shrink had a disconcerting habit of coming into her room at
odd hours like 11:00 P.M. after she had taken sleeping medication
or 5:30 A.M. before breakfast. Ms. Shrink would squat down on her
hunkers beside the bed. Soot dripped down her arm onto random
envelopes and slips of paper as she took notes and then folded them
together and tucked them into a notebook. Sometimes Julia answered
her questions, sometimes the pills did the talking. It didn't
matter as far as she could tell.

One afternoon during dinner, the mature lady with internal head
trauma roared in anger as a glass of iced tea was thrown in her
face. Goth Chick jumped up and down in her chair screeching in glee
while the appalled man who had thrown the drink apologized
profusely. Julia simply went to her room as several nurses and an
attendant came on the run to quell the bedlam. Later that night,
bad dreams were interrupted by the crash of Linda's bed onto the
floor. Julia had the room to herself after that.

The next day, Julia gave 2 packs of cigarettes to the Snow Job
Artist as a going home present, he was a former R.N. who had
started helping himself to the painkillers that he was in charge of
dispensing to patients.

She really meant to talk to Linda and see if she was all right.
Linda was sitting in a chair that the nurses had put at the halfway
point of the corridor for her to rest and catch her breath before
she went to smoke break. There were smudges of blood on the floor
at her feet. Menstrual discharge was seeping down the insides of
her legs.

Julia discretely veered course and went instead to talk to an elderly lady whose Nursing Facility had sent her to Ward 19 for a few days observation.

"Painted Jezebel, you Whore of Babylon!" the old woman squawked
pointing at the darkly mascaraed and black lipsticked Goth Chick.

"Screw you, you fucking crazy old hag!" the Goth Girl shouted, she
seemed to thrive on rage, her eyes glittered as she made an obscene
gesture.

"For Heaven's sake! Why are you making such a fuss?" Nurse Somebody
asked the thin elderly woman in a this is the last straw tone.

"Because I feel like it!" was her piercing reply.

Nurse Somebody gave Julia a sad look and said in a low,
confidential voice, "Don't worry dearie, she has senile dementia."

"I'm freezing here, can somebody help me?" Dementia squealed. She
had a lot of high pitched volume for such a tiny person.

Julia darted into her room and got her lap robe, then tucked it
around her legs.

"Thanks sugar," she screamed in a way that hurt Julia's ears.
Perhaps she was slightly deaf, who knew?

Julia nodded and stared at the frail old gal in awe and admiration.
She had sass all right. How wonderful just to let yourself go and
say whatever was on your mind! There was no vitriol in her
utterances. She said exactly what occurred to her without malice
aforethought. There was obviously no pressure cooker in her head
threatening to blow a gasket and scald everyone. She just let off
small bursts of steam whenever she pleased, much to the
embarrassment of her middle aged children when they came to visit.
Julia was sure that she couldn't take care of herself outside of an
institution, but she didn't give a damn and that was worth a lot.

That night Julia felt edgy and irritable, this place was not
helping her at all. Everything was cold and haphazardly run. The
sleeping pill she had been given was useless. One of the nurses had
dropped a heavy duty paper clip that day and Julia had palmed it.
She sat in the bathroom, straightened one curve of the paper clip
and began sawing at her wrist. It was painful, it also proved to be
ineffective. So she scratched away and counted to 50 then checked
her arm, not much progress. Finally she had counted to 50 ten times
and had a cut, but it hadn't reached the artery. "Oh hell!" she
muttered.

A night guard with a flashlight came by every 15 minutes and she
was discouraged and tired of jumping in and out of bed. The end was
too blunt and there was no way to get a better grip on the clip.
She laid in bed for 30 minutes (2 rounds of Night Guard) and tossed
things around in her mind.

"My gold ear studs!" she whispered desperately. She removed one but
couldn't see well enough. Going into the bathroom, she placed the
stem on the blue vein below her hand and pushed hard. A ruby red
geyser appeared in pulsating arcs. Just as she started to go back
to bed, the flow slowed down. She wiggled the tip of the stud and
watched as Old Faithful spouted again.

"Is everything O.K. in there," Night Guard asked.

Julia yawned loudly and replied in a sleepy voice, "Yeah,
every thing's fine."

As soon as she heard his rubber soled shoes squelch softly down the
tiled floor, she walked back to bed, Laying down with her back to
the door and the light. Being careful not to get blood on the white
sheets, she let her left arm dangle and used her right hand to
agitate the artery. The next time she heard his shoes coming near,
she laid very still as if sound asleep. She was terribly sorry she
had signed herself in and didn't see any use in going home whenever
they decided to let her go. Might as well leave one way as another.

Night Guard stated loudly and clearly, "I need a nurse at Room 314,
I need a nurse stat."

Julia jammed the ear stud back where it belonged and reattached the
back with slippery fingers. The room lights came on and an R.N.,
Night Guard and a tall, gaunt attendant swarmed her. The R.N.
grabbed her bleeding wrist while the attendant forced her right
fist open one finger at a time. Julia silently fought, squirmed and
kicked. She tried to resist the attendant, he was amazingly strong
for such a scrawny man. He found the paper clip with blood and bits
of tissue clinging to it.

"Well, I'll be damned!" he said with surprise "I would never have
thought..."

"Hold her left hand while I get it bandaged," the R.N. ordered
sternly. They both held her wrist high and wrapped it tightly. The
skin bulged below the bandage in the shape of a goose egg.

"She did it in here." Night Guard commented, showing them the blood
splattered bathroom. "Then she came to the bed." he explained,
pointing out the two splotches of blood on the floor that had given
her away. He gestured with his flashlight at the largest pool of
blood beside the bed, "She planned to bleed out here, out of
sight." he finished.

Julia couldn't help but admire the wall of the bathroom. Dark red
on stark white. Beautiful rainbows of dripping blood in overlapping
patterns, she had been too startled by her success to notice her
handiwork. Those walls were a friggin' work of art.

"How could you be so stupid?" the R.N. growled.

Julia whirled on her with hatred blazing from every pore and the
attendant slid gracefully between the two women. Julia whirled
again and went to the barred windows, with her cheek resting
blissfully on the cold iron.

"I need a cigarette" she proclaimed firmly.

"Not likely!" the R.N. snapped, "You're going to the safe room
right now!"

"All I want is a cigarette, I'm having a lousy day." Julia pointed
out.

She tried to make an end run around the trio to the door, a futile
attempt. Didn't matter, this entire wing was locked down tight.
Kept them on their toes though. The escorted her with caution to
the safe room, bare with a metal bed frame bolted to the floor.
There was a mattress and a pillow, Julia noticed that the ceiling
was very high, in a dark corner above she could see a monitor with
a blinking red light.

"Ouch, Sweet Jesus!" she exclaimed. The R.N. had given her a
vigorous shot in the butt.

Julia sat down and wept while the R.N. sat beside her, rubbing her
shoulders.

"I'm sorry I called you stupid, I could see you were about ready to
burst" the R.N. explained in soothing tones you would use with a
child or a crazy person.

"I'm just really craving a cigarette right now." Julia
sniffled. "Then I just want to go to bed." So far the shot hadn't
hit her. The R.N. sighed and wrapped a sheet around her shoulders
and smilingly led her to the smoke room. Once there, she handed
Julia one of her cigarettes and lit it for her.

The R.N. asked Julia about the voices she heard and Julia,
pleasantly explained to her that she couldn't hear what they were
saying. They were chanting in low voices and she could never make
it out. She knew they weren't real, but they were there just the
same and aggravated the Hell out of her. Doctors had explained to
her before that they were an element of fear brought on by
heightened anxiety. The famous squatting shrink had never even
asked her these questions. She sinfully enjoyed her smoke and got a
few things off her chest. She had scored a small victory and
willingly went back to the safe room and lay on the bed as they
locked the door.

She remembered someone saying, "A cigarette, a cup of coffee and a
good gripe will get you through the day." She giggled and the bed
seemed to float on a calm sea while the monitor blinked Stop! Stop!
She fingered her ear stud and enjoyed the motion of the ocean. The
red warning light faded away.

The next day she felt ~ better somehow. More relaxed and confident.
The Hospital Staff kept close tabs and took particular care of her.
She had let out a burst of steam that had been building up for some
time. She didn't intend to wait silently and suffer like that
again. She used to have backbone. For the first time, she had hopes
of becoming her old self once more.

"The Doctor is going to try you on new medication." a new nurse
informed the next day, "We'll see how you do for several days and
go from there."

New Nurse handed her the regular pills she was already taking and
Julia swallowed them dutifully in front of her, opening her mouth
and wagging her tongue to show she wasn't storing them like a
chipmunk. She felt giddy at the prospect of some real progress and
went to a therapy session and joined in the conversation a little.

Another couple of days streamed by, Julia was getting used to the
ebb and flow of the ward. New patients were admitted and others
released. The nurses came and went in pristine white. Some of the
patients (inmates?) were buddies, Julia knew better. The last time
she had been in hospital she had gotten close to a few fellow
patients, even tried to keep in touch afterward. It didn't work,
who wanted to meet over coffee and discuss the good old days in the
loony bin? People went back to their former lives and tried to
forget each other.

She didn't particularly look forward to it, but she figured she
would be there a while longer since the Doctor's new medication
orders seemed to have gotten swallowed up by a black hole. She was
impatient to get started on the new drug therapy and get out of
this quagmire called a Mental Health Ward.

She was awakened late that night by the familiar pretzel shape of
her shrink. Julia explained that she had never received the new
meds, but that she was feeling much calmer and no more voices.

The Doctor seemed unaware of the medication mix up and surprised by
Julia's revised attitude. "So, you are ready to go home, yes?" she
said softly and gathered her scraps of paper and tucked them in a
jacket pocket and left.

"As soon as humanly possible." Julia called to her retreating back
and resumed her sleep.

The next day, Nurse Pat was on duty. She was a reliable staple
here, Julia really appreciated her quiet good nature and the fact
that she looked you in the eye. She didn't take any flak
either. "Here are your morning meds, you'll get your new meds at
noon." she said checking her chart. "You'll be released at 2:00
P.M., after Lunch I'll bring you some papers to sign and a
prescription for you to have filled."

With 2 hours of observation upon her new medical regimen, Julia
walked out into the bright sunlight and got into a waiting cab.

"We'll need to stop at the Pharmacy and then straight home," Julia
told the sour apple faced cabbie.

"Whatever, it's your money," he grunted in thinly disguised ill
humor as he studied her in the rear~view mirror and looked
pointedly at the Institution's sign.

"Fucking A Billy Bob, move your ass, I don't have all day," Julia
replied. He raised his eyebrows then swung out into traffic. Inwardly Julia smiled and absentmindedly fingered her glittering earrings. She would be all right, one way or another.