by J. R. Tate
Rusty stands up and I don’t even argue for him to stay. He’s not thinking clearly and is extremely worried about his father. He slams his door to his room and I look at Jack, trying to read him.
“Jack, I didn’t want to say this in front of Rusty, but they tell me he’s giving up. He told the doctor to just let him die.” My voice cracks and tears stream down my face. I didn’t want to cry in front of Nathan’s dad, but I can’t stop it. “What do you think we should do?”
Jack puts his arms around my shoulders, but his face stays expressionless. “He doesn’t mean that. He’s in hell right now. He’s going to say things he doesn’t really mean.”
“How do we know that? I haven’t even got to see him.” I bite my bottom lip. “What if this is real?”
“What do you mean, Rose?”
“Rusty is claiming to see and hear stuff. I thought I was dreaming the other night, but it’s happened since. What if this is all real? What if he’s not responding because there are real ghosts right here?”
Jack takes a deep breath and releases his hug on me. “Wanna know what I think? I think you’ve all got a ton on your minds and that’s powerful in itself. It’s playing tricks on you. Give consent for the ECT. It’s got a high success rate for people who reject pills. Why not try it?”
“What if it really hurts him?”
“As opposed to where he’s at right now?” Jack asks. “I don’t think he could be in any more pain than he’s already in. There’s nothing left to lose.”
“And what if the ECT doesn’t work?”
He hugs me again. “Cross that bridge when you get to it. You’re not quite there yet, and you may never even get close.”
“If he finds out I’m the one who said yes, he’s going to be pissed. He’ll be angrier than he already is with me, if that’s even possible.”
“Probably so, but at least he’ll be alive.”
***
Nathan
I wake up much like I always seem to lately – with a pain so sharp it’s like a nail is being driven through my forehead, and with people hovered over me, watching my every move. I try to move, but my arms are restrained. I don’t think I’m in the straight jacket anymore, and when I finally come to, I realize that I’m in a bed with both my legs and arms tied to the railing. I jerk and lash out, but there’s no way to get free.
I spot Dr. Clint in the corner, and he approaches the bedside with caution. There is that damn clipboard. What would this man look like without it?
“Nathan, we are going to prep you for an ECT treatment.”
Am I hearing him right? Did he just say ECT treatment? At first I think I’m still having drug induced dreams, but the cloth digging into my wrist is too much of a blatant clue to let me know that this is reality and he really did say what I think he said.
“I didn’t give consent.” My own voice sounds strange to me.
“You don’t have to.”
“And why is that?” Probably another stupid mental health rule.
“You’re not of sound mind to make decisions for yourself at this point. We called your emergency contact and the only other person you listed on your paperwork. Your wife gave consent to proceed with this.”
Heat rushes through me and I pull my arms so hard that the metal of the bed clanks. Two nurses, or orderlies, hell, some type of hospital staff holds me down and their strength is able to stop me. I’m exhausted, but I know I can keep going on fear and anger alone.
“Calm down, Nathan. I assure you this is nothing like what you’re thinking,” Dr. Clint says.
“It’s not going to help. Nothing is going to help. I don’t want to go through any more of your bullshit treatments. I’ve only gotten worse. I want to see Rose! Call her! Tell her I want to see her in person!” I speak through clenched teeth and try to push the men off of me, but I don’t even make a dent. Either they are bigger or I’m weaker than I originally thought.
“Mrs. Gallagher thinks otherwise, and so do I, which is enough authority to do this. Before we get started, I want to go over a few things with you. We are going to hook up some electrodes to your head. It’s just to aid in sending the current through you and cause small seizures. The seizures will make the chemistry in your brain fluctuate. You’ll be sedated the entire time and won’t feel anything.”
“What about after? I know it causes side effects.”
Dr. Clint adjusts his glasses and nods to one of the nurses. She begins to put the electrodes on, and at first I turn my head to challenge her. They stick to my skin and now I know I’m at the point of no return. There’s no getting out of it, not with the way they have me on lockdown. As if I wasn’t already pissed at Rose, this takes it all to another level of betrayal. How could she agree to such torture? I just don’t get it.
“Just like with any treatment, there are risks. There could be memory loss, heart palpitations, and things like that, but the good definitely outweighs the bad in this situation. Physically, aside from your injuries, you’re in good health. I don’t see any reason to not carry this out.”
I feel a small sting and realize that the nurse has started an IV on me. She also places a nasal cannula in my nose and I feel the instant flow of oxygen.
“We run oxygen as a precaution, and the IV is where we will administer the sedatives. It will take more than one treatment to start feeling the effects, but I hope you trust me when I say that this is a good option for your recovery, Nathan.”
My body relaxes, though I’m still not okay with this. I can hear Dr. Clint talking, but it’s like it’s in a different language. The familiar heavy feeling sets in, but I don’t feel like I’m fully under. I see blurry blobs move above me and the talking, though distant, is still present.
I’m terrified. I don’t know what to expect. I wish that I would go to sleep as Dr. Clint says I will. Have I developed a tolerance to the medicine? In the beginning it knocked me out within seconds and now, I’m hanging on to consciousness.
I close my eyes and I can still hear the commotion around me. And suddenly, a shock hits me hard, and I feel my body tighten from the current. My jaw clenches. I’ve never felt anything like this before. At first, it’s not painful, but it’s definitely not comfortable either. I let out a deep groan as another courses through me, starting at my head.
“He’s not fully asleep!” The nurse yells, and that I can understand.
“Didn’t you push the medication?”
“Yes! Why isn’t he under?”
“You didn’t check him before we started?”
Another shot of discomfort. This time, it hurts, and I’m pulled from the half conscious state I was previously in. It hurts bad and I’m able to sit up. Dr. Clint is there, and I look him straight in the eye. Even in this situation, I can tell he’s caught off guard. The son of a bitch – how could he let this happen? He promised me it wouldn’t hurt and that I wouldn’t feel a thing. Why am I feeling everything?
He reaches out and pulls the electrodes off. My body crashes back into the bed and I close my eyes, trying to relax my tense muscles that won’t let up.
“The IV is infiltrated! All the meds were muscled!” The nurse pulls the needle from my vein. “His hand is swollen.”
Finally, I relax again. I ignore everyone. Instead, I see the evil woman with the long nails in the corner, her dark eyes staring at me as everyone frantically works to figure out what went wrong. Though things are happening fast, when I spot her, it all turns into slow motion. I want to get up and walk to her. I want to face her. The restraints keep me in the bed, but she progresses toward me, her feet never touching the floor as she stands over me.
No one else sees her, but I’m staring right at her. “Kill me,” I say, hoping she’ll listen and finish her torture on me.
She reaches her hand out, but rather than do anything, she just looks at me. “Why?”
“Take me away.”
“Nathan, who are you talking to? What are you looking at?” I hear Dr. Clint,
but I ignore him.
“Not yet,” she says. “Not yet.” She grabs my arm and digs her nails into it. The young boy and girl are now on either side of her, each of them looking at me with the same expression as her. “You’re going through enough pain. Maybe soon, you’ll open your mind and completely understand why all of this is happening. Until then, we’ll let the hospital do the job for us.”
She swipes her nails over my skin, and three fresh scratches begin to bleed. I’m so numb to the pain that it doesn’t even faze me. How could it after being fried like a piece of bacon?
“Please,” I beg, but all three of them begin to fade, leaving me in the bed with the hospital staff all around me. Things aren’t in slow motion anymore. I’m suddenly shoved back into reality. “I don’t know what you want.”
“Dr. Clint, his arm is bleeding!”
My body finally does me a solid, and everything around me goes black. Maybe this time, I won’t wake up.
Chapter Fourteen
Rose
My heart skips a beat every time Sunset Canyon’s phone number flashes on my iPhone. I always hope they have a good update, but my faith is wearing thin. After I gave the consent to allow them to do ECT on Nathan, I’ve been feeling guiltier than I have with getting him committed. Maybe this time, I’ll finally hear something I want to hear. Maybe this time, Nathan has responded and things are finally going to work in our favor.
I slide my finger over the screen and answer the call. “Hello?” I duck into our break room. It’s no mystery what is happening with my husband – I’ve disclosed it to a few people, but I still feel like some of the situation needs to be kept private. As far as my friends know, he’s making a slow recovery. I haven’t told them any other details.
“Mrs. Gallagher?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Dr. Clint at Sunset Canyon. I’ve been the doctor in charge of your husband’s treatment. I was calling to give you an update on him.”
The doctor is calling? That can’t be good. I sit down and turn the TV off. “Have you done the ECT yet?”
“About an hour ago. Mrs. Gallagher, I think you need to come up here. We usually don’t allow family in, especially when your husband is in the state he’s in, but I think it’d be beneficial. He’s demanding to see you, and at this point, I’m up for allowing it. It might help him.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear and duck my head. “So basically, the ECT didn’t work?”
“It takes more than one treatment. Usually, patients go through about ten before we can say it’s working. But I have to tell you this, Mrs. Gallagher. Nathan wasn’t fully sedated when we began to administer the test today. Usually, patients are completely unconscious.”
“So he felt it?” I can barely ask the question.
“Yes, he did.”
“Is he okay? How did it happen? Is it going to hurt him?” So many questions come to mind, and I stand up and begin to pace. I don’t even care that other people have come in the room. My voice quivers. Nathan trusted me. How can I let this happen?
“The IV must have gotten knocked around. He was pretty combative right before, and it shifted. I’ve been monitoring him closely since. He’s been sleeping, but his heart rate is stable and everything seems to be okay. While we were trying to stabilize him, I think he was hallucinating again. He acquired some fresh cuts on his arm.”
“Right in front of you? He mangled himself right in front of you?” At this point, I am in utter disbelief. What kind of hospital is Nathan in? I’m glad he’s requesting to see me, because I don’t think they’d be able to keep me away.
“In the midst of the commotion, I’m not sure how it happened. He was restrained. I’m not even sure how he could have done it, Mrs. Gallagher.”
I’m on the verge of saying something I’m going to regret. Instead, I bite my tongue and lean against the wall. “I’m headed right up there.”
I hang the phone up and try to assess everything that has happened. Rusty claims to be seeing things. I apparently have too, though I’m not able to decipher between dreams and reality. Now Nathan has obtained injuries while being restrained and is not responding to anything the doctors have tried. Call me crazy. Put me on psychotropic meds. One thing is for certain – I’m starting to finally see my husband’s side to all of this.
Before I head to the hospital, I get Rusty’s side of everything he’s seen. I want to make sure it all matches up. He’s hesitant to give me the details, but after I explain my intentions, he tells me everything. I write it down and am a bit shocked at the fact that he describes the woman exactly how I’ve seen her, right down to her soiled hands and nails.
The drive up seems to take forever, even with me driving ten miles per hour over the speed limit. When I get there, it’s obvious that the staff is expecting me. They lead me down several hallways and to an area where there are several padded rooms.
“You can go in to see him. He’s in a straight jacket, so you shouldn’t be in any danger, but we’ll be right out in the hall if something happens.”
I stare at the nurse for a second. My husband is labeled as a flight risk? Nathan? Things have drastically changed. An unsettling feeling washes over me when they open the door and Nathan is lying on the floor, still asleep. The hinges clank as the metal rubs together, and the door slams shut, leaving us alone.
I sit beside him and study him. His dark hair is matted to his forehead and his usual tan skin is as white as a sheet. There are dark rings around his eyes, and there are healing wounds under fresh cuts and bruises. What has been going on? If he is hurting himself, is the staff not watching him closely?
I run my fingers over his hair and down his jaw line. His beard is thick. It’s odd seeing him with more than a five o’clock shadow, and that might be aiding in the fact that he doesn’t look like the Nathan I married. I feel the tears begin to flow. How could it have gotten to this? I put him here for help, and he looks closer to death than I ever could’ve thought. He even looks skinny.
“I’m so sorry, Nathan,” I say as I continue to caress his face. My fingers trail over red marks on his forehead where I’m guessing the electrodes were placed. Had I known it would’ve been botched, I would’ve never given consent to do it.
His thick eyebrows begin to move and a moan escapes from deep in his throat. Slowly, his eyelids flutter open, exposing the green of his irises. They aren’t bright like usual, and his blank stare hurts me. Does he not recognize me?
“Nathan, it’s me, Rose.”
He lifts his head off of the floor, not giving any indication that he’s glad to see me, angry to see me, or that he even knows who I am. What if the ECT completely fried his brain and he’s forgotten everything about his life?
“Do you want to sit up?”
He nods, and I help lift him to a sitting position. His arms are tight around his midsection, but with the way he’s acting, he seems used to being in that position. I bet he’s been in a straight jacket more than not during his time here.
“Nathan, I’m so sorry about everything that has happened.” My voice shakes. What else can I do or say to him?
“Look at me,” he says, his voice raspy. “How could you do this to me?”
At least he recognizes me, even if it’s not what I want to hear. “Nathan, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.” I start to cry again, but my emotions don’t even make his dull expression waiver.
“I’ve been medicated, I’ve been in a padded room, and I’ve been fried like a fucking piece of bacon, and you still don’t believe me when I say I’m not crazy.”
“I believe you, Nathan.”
“After all of this, you finally do? You mean you don’t want to take it to the extreme of a lobotomy? I mean, after everything, I’m game for it. Maybe they’ll fuck that one up too and it’ll kill me. Seems that’s the only damn relief I’m gonna get from this whole bullshit mess.”
Is he suicidal? The doctor didn’t mention it to me, but it explains the suicide watc
h they have him under. “We’re going to get this figured out, Nathan. I know you’re not crazy and I’m sorry it has taken this long for me to understand. You don’t deserve any of this.”
“You should’ve believed me the day I told you. When have I ever given you any reason not to?”
I scoot close to him, but he leans away from me. I doubt our marriage will ever be the same after this, and it pains me to look at the man who I love and know that I’m responsible for screwing up the amazing relationship we once had.
“I’m not going to hand you any excuses as to why this happened. I’ve told you why and I am wrong for all of it.” I wipe the tears from my face and lower my voice. “Rusty has seen some stuff and so have I. I had him give me details and they match exactly what I’ve seen. I thought they were dreams, but how can we both come up with the same person?”
“I’d be careful what you say in here. They watch your every move. It doesn’t matter how soft you talk – they’re in your head too.”
This place has made him paranoid, but I can’t blame him for feeling that way. “Can you explain your visits?”
“I already have,” Nathan replies. “Nothing has changed.”
“Please, Nathan. I want to see if it’s the same things.”
He lets out a deep sigh and rests his head against the wall. He’s got to be exhausted. “A woman with long, stringy dark hair, long fingernails. A young boy, no more than five. And then a small girl that I first saw at a fire.” He pauses as he winces. I can only imagine the pain he’s in. “At first they were all familiar to me. I couldn’t put my finger on where I saw the woman and the boy. But with all this time I’ve spent here alone, it hit me.”
I nod and listen. Despite the fact that he’s so mad at me, I’m glad he’s talking it out with me. This is something different about him that is working in his favor. Maybe the therapy has conditioned him to be this way.
“They’re victims of accidents and fires of mine. Ones I wasn’t able to save. Ones that died. They’re back for revenge and I have no idea what the hell to do about it. I should’ve realized it from the beginning. I never have forgotten any of the people lost on my watch.”