Shards of My Heart

  me: I’ll be waiting. I’ll stay up for that call. Please let the doctor know.

  reception: Of course.

  Somehow, I didn’t feel very hopeful. That call felt like I had accomplished absolutely nothing. Instead of falling asleep beside Kylie, I stayed up, writing, recording, and thinking. It seemed really important to have my thoughts organized when I spoke to the doctor. I wanted to give the most comprehensive account possible for Shane’s mental state. I knew he was a complex case. At one point, I had considered being a psychologist...until I realized that I would be incredibly depressed if I did so. I love helping people, but I wasn’t sure how much I could take of other people’s sadness without it impacting me negatively. Apparently, I had married it instead.

  At 1:30am, after waiting roughly two and a half hours for a phone call that never came, I called back. To my dismay, I spoke to the same woman again.

  reception: Ms. Powers, I passed your information along. I’m sure the doctor is just waiting to call you in the morning.

  me: We have this looming deadline and I can’t talk to anyone. I’m frustrated and concerned. What if he gets released without getting the help he needs because no one would speak to me? Do you know how much it took to get him there? I had to move out of the house on Monday, taking our daughter with me. I had to get an Order of Protection because he lost it. I’m currently on the other side of the state because he violated the order within an hour and I couldn’t be sure when he was released from jail that we would be safe. And all I want is for someone to work with me! Let me help you so you can help him.

  reception: I’ll let the doctor know. I promise.

  In frustration, I had ended the call, after saying my ‘goodbye.’ This was one of those times that I missed having a corded phone. There was something almost therapeutic about getting to slam the receiver down when I felt like this.

  With my hands completely tied, I laid down and tried to rest, I doubted that I’d be able to get any actual sleep. It was a time for some of my problem solving. All I knew was that I had to get back there. Suddenly, it was no longer about getting medical supplies for Kylie. Now, I needed to make sure Shane received the proper diagnosis and treatment, too. I had tried to be nice and be heard through the phone, obviously, I needed to be in their face. On the way to the house, I’d be stopping at the hospital. Good luck avoiding me then. So, I made that my happy thought and finally fell asleep.

  Waking at 5am may have meant that I didn’t exactly get a full night’s sleep, but it also meant that I had an opportunity to get more writing and computer work accomplished while Kylie slept. This morning felt better, having a plan, feeling like I was actually doing something instead of just having everything done to me or decided for me. Once I finished writing, I started packing. When my little one woke, was fed, and I was showered, I needed to be ready to go.

  Bit by bit, I had moved everything so that it was collected down in the foyer. Gracie would gladly hold the baby while I loaded the vehicle. It felt great to be organized, but before I could get my shower in, I had one more pressing concern to address. Though it was 10:30am, I had yet to hear from the hospital. My mood was not improving. Someone needed to speak to me, which is why I dialed. After suffering through the standard...’I can’t help you without the five digit number,’ I finally spoke.

  me: Okay. My husband IS in there on a twenty-three hour hold. Shane Powers. Over half that time has expired with no call from a doctor. You can’t possibly expect to get a solid medical history from a man who was petting cats that weren’t there on the ride in.

  nurse: No, ma’am. I can…

  me: Please do not promise me a call from the doctor since no one has been able to make good on that promise yet. I’m not asking you to break HIPPAA policy. I’m not asking you for any information. I’m giving you information.

  nurse: Oh, okay. Let me get this down.

  me: Thank you.

  I let out a huge sigh, a combination of relief and disgust. It really shouldn’t be this difficult.

  me: Shane has a number of issues. The biggest is that he suffers from massive depression, but refuses to take any medication for it even though he has been prescribed both Wellbutrin and Prozac at various times. He also has anxiety issues that he medicates with Xanax. He has trouble sleeping so he has a script for that, and a script for Adderall to get him going in the morning. Essentially, he is medication dependent all day long.

  Taking a deep breath, I started to explain further.

  me: He has an addictive personality. Since we’ve been together, he’s been through a number of addictions. First it was alcohol, until he ended up with pancreatitis. Then he became addicted to the pills that he was prescribed for the pain from that ailment. Given the physical nature of his profession, it was easy enough for him to convince doctors, plural, to give him pain meds. He over did, and ended up addicted, so he started taking Suboxone to get clean. There was a brief sex addiction that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Then it was gambling, and eBay coin auctions. He’s always chasing happiness.

  Pausing for a moment, I heard the typing finally stop and knew the nurse had caught up.

  me: From what I understand, he had a troubled childhood. His mother died suddenly of a heart attack when he was 14, after his parents had divorced. His father wasn’t equipped to handle raising him, and beat him with hands and objects. So Shane ran away, which only exacerbated the problem and earned him a stay in a group home. He raised himself, mostly. There was some drug use in his teens that was mostly recreational. What else do you need?

  nurse: No, this is really good.

  me: The biggest problem is anger management. That’s what brought all of this on. He whines. A bit of a victim personality. And when he’s really angry, he puts holes in walls and breaks things. Monday, he completely lost it...because he couldn’t get his phone out of his pocket. Ridiculous...yes, but the damage was incredible...worst ever. He even broke our daughter’s IV pole for her pump feeds. He was completely out of control. It wasn’t my intention to leave him, but I had to for my safety, for our daughter’s safety...she’s only 21 months old.

  This was so much harder than I imagined...and I had imagined this conversation plenty in the wee hours of the night. I just hurt. This is not the life I was supposed to be leading. Who would want this?

  nurse: Thank you. This will be very helpful.

  Then our call ended. No one can tell me anything, I’ve told them all I can. There was nothing left to speak about until I convinced him to sign the release for me while I was there at the hospital.

  The drive home had been quick...in part because I drove like a woman on a mission, and because my phone was ringing off the hook. Right now, I was the most interesting person most of my friends knew. Sure they were concerned about our well-being, but they also really wanted the play-by-play. Before I had a chance to lament the two and half hour trip from Raleigh to Charlotte, I was getting off of 77 and driving down Randolph Road. Only by slowing down did I narrowly miss my turn onto Billingsley.

  The closer I came to the hospital, the more anxious I became. Sure, I had an Order of Protection, but it didn’t say anything about me visiting my husband in a mental hospital. There were guards and orderlies. I was safe. He wasn’t allowed any objects that might possibly be used to cause injury to himself or others.

  Kylie had slept much of the ride in her car seat. When I hauled her out and told her we were going to visit daddy, she was beyond excited, letting out her classic squeals and beaming. Following the signs, I entered the 24 hour emergency room, walked boldly up to the desk and asked about seeing Shane.

  nurse: You need to have a release signed to see him.

  My blood began to boil as I heard the same tired spiel about his magic hospital five digit number that would grant me access.

  me: I was in Raleigh when he was admitted last night. He refused to sign the release for the friend who brought him, he will sign it for me.

  Actually, I couldn’t
be sure, but I was being positive. He imagined hours of conversations with me. He must want to be with me, must want to see me...and Kylie.

  The nurse slowly...like I wanted to light a firecracker under her bulbous ass slow...left the glassed in office to go into the secured ward. So, we waited. And waited. I paced with her on my hip and craned my neck to see through to the doors. I hoped to see him waiting for us on the other side. Instead, the nurse finally returned.

  nurse: He signed the release.

  me: Thank you. Can we see him now?

  nurse: She can’t go back there. Do you have someone to care for her?

  me: No.

  I was frustrated. How could no one have mentioned that in all the conversations on the phone?

  nurse: Well, on the weekend there are also visiting hours from 6-8pm.

  me: Okay. I’ll be back then.

  For some reason, I sounded so sure of myself when I said it. And yet, I wondered who I could get to watch Kylie so I could check on Shane. I walked out with my shoulders back and head held high, refusing to admit defeat. This would not break me.

  We made it back to the house around 3:30pm. I had been ignoring text messages from Corinne the entire drive. She was insisting upon coming over to talk to me. Honestly, I didn’t want to see her. My anger was still fresh. There had been very little resolved. I had no idea if my husband was going to be released from the hospital in a matter of hours. I had no idea where Kylie and I were going to sleep. My life was unsettled and up in the air because she had the arrogance to think that she had the right to interfere and decide whether or not Shane should be in jail without even talking to me. Yeah, I can hold a grudge, apparently.

  Only, that’s not how I see it. It’s important in life to know who your friends are, who you can trust, who you need to be on guard around. This was one of life’s hard lessons, now I know Corinne is someone I must be on guard with. It was incredibly disappointing. We had known each other for a very long time.

  When we pulled up, Lola and Evan crossed the road to speak with us. They wandered over to see how we were managing. They offered an invite to dinner, but I wasn’t ready to promise anything with so much in the air. That’s when Corinne showed up.

  Funny how quickly everyone else left at that moment.

  Corinne: Can we go in the house and talk?

  me: Sure. I haven’t even made it in there yet.

  So we walked the suddenly long distance between the street and the front door. Inside, the conversation went much as I expected, with her sharing her excuses and reasons for bailing him out and me explaining once more that she shouldn’t have done it, that she should have called me.

  Corinne: Can you at least admit that he is where he needs to be?

  me: I was working on getting him help in jail. That would have been better for me. You don’t seem to understand what he did.

  That’s when I took her on a tour of the house, pointing out all the damage, the broken windows with the green shards of glass scattered all over the window sill and floor, the walls with huge holes and busted sheetrock. That was when I realized that the thermostat looked strange.

  me: Crap. He broke the thermostat, too. Not only do I not have windows in the master bedroom, but now I have no heat in the house and a baby with a questionable immune system.

  Corinne: Well, yes. I didn’t realize how bad it was.

  That was probably the tenth time I had heard her say that. Quite frankly, I was tired of hearing that.

  me: Yes, I know. Once again, a problem that could have been remedied by a simple phone call or text message. He did this. He wrecked the house, he ruined our marriage, he shattered our dreams, and he came dangerously close to injuring Kylie. He is not to be pitied. And I don’t want your pity either, but your understanding would have been much appreciated.

  Corinne: The walls can be fixed…

  me: Yes, but usually not by him.

  Taking her into the office, I showed her the old holes.

  me: This is what happened when I offered him my McFlurry coupon.

  Corinne: Ummm. I don’t know what to say.

  me: Let me handle things from now on. Don’t presume to know what’s best for my family. I don’t try to run yours.

  A knock on the door announced the arrival of Lola.

  Lola: I just wanted to make sure there was no bloodshed.

  Smiling at her, I shook my head.

  me: No, we’re fine. I think we’ve come to an understanding.

  Corinne nodded and shifted where she stood in the great room.

  Lola: So, do you know if you’ll be here for dinner yet.

  me: I’ll let you know, but I doubt that I’d be great company. This day has worn me out...and in case I’m staying here, I need to figure out what to do about the window.

  Chuckling, Lola waved away my concerns.

  Lola: I’ll send Evan over.

  See how blessed am I to have a huge support system?

  Soon, everyone had left and I had started on the task of unloading the vehicle, even if I questioned the sanity of it. For all I knew, I might just be packing up again in a day. Just as I had my arms loaded with boxes, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Setting everything back in the cargo bay, I looked at the number and answered it immediately. It was the hospital phone number, but I soon discovered it wasn’t a doctor calling.

  nurse: I just looked in the file. Do you have an Order of Protection?

  me: Yes.

  I sighed, loudly. Somehow I knew that answer was not going to help me get in to see Shane, but I’m not inclined to lie.

  nurse: Well, until we straighten this out, you won’t be able to see him.

  me: There’s a good chance that I’m the one thing that he’s holding onto, his last bit of sanity and you would take that away?

  nurse: It’s not our call; we can’t break the law.

  me: Fine. I won’t come tonight, but I will call to check on him. He signed the release. Do you know when he’s being discharged?

  nurse: No, but it won’t be tonight. I doubt it will be tomorrow, either. We need to get his meds regulated first and make sure he’s on the right ones. Oh, and you may want to look around the house and find all his meds. We need to know everything he was taking so we can figure out what he’s having withdrawals from. He’s had a complete psychotic break.

  me: I know.

  It hurt my heart hearing those words coming from a stranger, even if I did know it was true. Being told that I couldn’t see him also bothered me. I needed to see him, to know he was okay. Apparently, at least for tonight, it wasn’t to be.

  At 8pm, I wandered into the kitchen to see what I had for food. I hadn’t been hungry earlier due to all the work that needed to be done. Though I longed to give Kylie a bath, I worried over how cold it was going to get in the house. Instead, I changed her into her jammies and promised to let her play in the big Jacuzzi tub in the morning when it was warm out. She seemed to agree to that since there was no tantrum. Throughout the evening, I had worked to shut off the master bedroom after taking everything I needed into the great room. Then I shut the hall door, too.

  With our blankets and pillows, we were ready for a campout in the living room. It wouldn’t be the first time. When she had trouble sleeping, we usually ended up on the couch snuggling. Tonight I was looking forward to it, just as soon as I found something to eat. The idea of loading us into the vehicle one more time today was so off-putting that I was ready to eat cereal.

  Then the doorbell rang.

  For years, I had lived in this house. In all that time, this was the first that I was nervous about opening the door after dark. Why was that? I was the same woman. It wasn’t that I was alone. Sometimes work had Shane coming home after dark, or falling asleep early. This wasn’t the first time someone had come calling later in the evening. Now, however, I was all but shaking.

  As I opened the door, a plate was thrust towards me, and when I peeled the napkin back...I found chicken cordon bleu,
uncut green beans, and homemade macaroni and cheese. God bless Lola.

  me: Come in! Thank you.

  Lola: I was worried about what you had to eat in the house.

  She looked at me expectantly, so I finally smirked and responded.

  me: Ummm...cereal.

  She wore a look of triumph. Yes, she had done a wonderful thing. She stayed for a bit, watched me eat, let me vent, asked me what I was going to do.

  Lola: What’s with the pills?

  She gestured to the collection on the coffee table. There were at least eight bottles.

  me: I was instructed to collect all his pills.

  Lola: Is that everything?

  me: Yeah. I think so. He’s really not good at hiding. I tore this place apart, and his truck. This should be everything.

  Lola: Well, I have to get going, but what are you going to do with these pills?

  me: I don’t know.

  There was a moment of silence while we both stared at them. Finally, she spoke as she stood to leave.

  Lola: Get rid of them. There will come a day that they start to look good to you. You are under a lot of stress right now. Remove the temptation.

  me: I’m stronger than I look, but yes, I will be getting rid of them.

  With that she left and Kylie and I were alone at night for the first time in a week. We had been around people non-stop. It was nice at first, nice to feel supported and taken care of. After a while, I just need space. This was it...my big chance.

  Since dinner was over and Kylie was resting comfortably on the couch, I decided to finally look at the pill bottles and call in my finds to the hospital. Lifting them one by one, I studied the name and looked up the ones I didn’t recognize because of their generic names. Just as I had claimed, there was an almost empty bottle of Adderall, two partial bottles of Xanax that I had found in the truck and our bathroom, there was a bottle of Wellbutrin he never took, and then there were two bottles that I finally identified as Somas...muscle relaxants. According to the date, they were filled on Sunday, just before his breakdown on Monday by two different doctors...our primary care physician and his drug addictions doctor. And given the number of pills that remained, he had ingested just over fifty of them in four days.