While Darlene and David were in the basement, Jackie decided to take a shower and so Becky took Jerry outside because it was surprisingly warm. She found Mark on his back underneath her dad's truck.
"What are you doing to dads truck Mark?" Becky asked sitting on the picnic table with Jerry balanced on her knee.
"I noticed it took you're dad a few tries to get it started. I'm trying to fix it for him." Mark said defensively. Of all the people in the family, Mark didn't know how to help out. So he decided to do the one thing he was good at: fixing cars.
"That's so sweet." Becky smiled in awe.
"Yeah well it's the only thing I can think to do." Mark admitted.
Becky looked around the backyard as memories of playing outside with her mom yelling at her to come in filled her head. She remembered the Valentines BBQ that her mom threw and pulling into the backyard in a Mustang driven by Mark and how her mom watched her and Mark kiss disgusted and when her mom caught her making out with "The Make out King" on the picnic table while Jimmy Meltreiger's parents were their guests. And she wanted to cry.
"Mark… I miss her so much…" Mark was still under the truck but he crawled out and hugged her without touching her with his hands because they were all greasy. Becky hugged him back with one arm and used the other to hold Jerry.
"I know Beck. I kind of miss her too."
Darlene and David came up from the basement and looked in the living room to find it empty. David noticed that Becky, Mark and Jerry were in the backyard. Darlene looked around again, and realized she hadn't seen D.J. since they got home. She also noticed that the family photo was missing from on top of the liquor cabinet behind the couch.
Darlene left David in the kitchen without a word and made her way to her old room/D.J.'s new room. DJ was on his back on his bed looking at the framed photo; Darlene could see he had been crying.
"I miss her too D.J." Darlene admitted, sitting on the bed next to him.
"Five years." D.J. said like an explanation that made no sense. Darlene's face showed confusion and D.J. added; "It's been five years since the last time mom called me David Jacob."
Darlene put her hand on D.J.'s leg. "That's a good thing."
D.J. shook his head in agreement but continued talking even though he felt odd about bringing up the next subject. "I started crying because I feel worse about Dad than about mom dying."
Darlene had felt the same way so hearing DJ say it made her feel better. "You do?"
"I don't think that I should feel like this." D.J was speaking in a way that made Darlene know how grown up he had become. She looked at her brother, and flicked her head to get her hair out of her face, a habit she couldn't break.
"D.J. mom is gone forever, just like Grandpa Harris. But Dad will be here to finish raising you and start raising Jerry." Darlene found that she was beginning to just speak gibberish so she made she decided to lie. "Your subconscious realizes that Dad is still a part of your life so it's focusing on him. I learned about this in my Psychology class." D.J. maintained eye contact with his sister and could tell she was lying, but let it go because if how he felt was wrong his sister would've told him. Darlene suddenly knew DJ didn't believe her so she added; "Besides I feel like that too."
"You do?" Now it was DJ's turn.
"Yeah, and it makes me feel bad. Badder than when I secretly wondered if we wouldn't get as good Christmas presents because Grandpa Harris died." D.J. could see his sister's sadness so he joked.
"You wondered that too?" They both laughed, as Darlene admired her brother's posters.
"God D.J. are you getting a poster for every Spielberg movie? If so you're missing Always and The Flintstones." Darlene said before she stood up and the left the room. (Get the joke?)
Darlene walked down the stairs and found Jackie on the couch, towel drying her hair.
When Jackie noticed her Darlene sat down in the chair in front of the electric fireplace.
"So did you tell David?"
"Yep."
"What'd he say?"
Darlene smiled, "He asked if dad has a gun."
Jackie smiled too imagining David's concern. "You tell him not since you're mom pointed it at him?"
"Yep. I think David took it well." Darlene said, having expected him to take it worse.
"Well anyone could've taken it better than your dad." Jackie said, realizing that she may have said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that."
"No it's ok Jackie. How did Dad take it?"
"Well he sort of stopped."
"Stopped what?"
Jackie looked for the right word. "Everything? When he found out your mom was pregnant with Becky, his head was so high in the clouds you're mom considered stealing a fire truck so she could climb the ladder and knock him back into his senses with a frying pan." Jackie, of course was, exaggerating but she did remember how Dan was like a zombie for two weeks straight when he was told he was going to be a father.
"How did he react when he found out about me?"
Jackie scrunched up her face. "Uh, don't really know. He and Becky disappeared for a day and you're mom considered going to the police. Eventually he showed back up with Becky. To this day we don't know where he took Becky, all we know is nothing was wrong with your sister so we know your dad was careful."
This astonished Darlene. "You mean dad just walked off with Becky without a word and she didn't call the police?"
"Well you're mom had gotten sick of being the only one to take care of Becky so she figured if your dad wanted Becky to himself he could have her to himself. " When Jackie said that, Darlene thought that sounded exactly like her mom.
"Wow that is sooo Mom."
"That's what I thought."
At the Fulton County Hospital Psychiatric Ward Dan was led by a scrawny man in a dress shirt and kaki's to a long rectangular room that was about half the size of his room at home. In the room there were two twin beds one each side of the room, and a two drawer dresser between them. On the dresser there was a reading lamp on each side and at the foot of the beds there was a small desk and chair. Dan looked at the room and then the man. "You're bed is the one on the right. This door never closes, and lights out is at 9 sharp. Take the clothes from that backpack and put them in the bottom drawer. Hang the backpack up on that hook." The man pointed a row of four hooks on the wall on the right. "Make your bed in the morning. Do NOT pack up until the paper saying you can leave is signed. Here is a mandatory list of things to do." The man who Dan thought was bossy, handed Dan the list and stood there while Dan looked it over.
8 am Wake up
8:15 am roll call
8: 30 am breakfast
9: 15 am medicine time
9:30 am Group Therapy
10:30 am outside recreation (weather permitting)
11:45 am Lunch
12:30 pm roll call
12:45 pm Individual Therapy (At this time you may use the dayroom if it is not you're turn)
3 pm outside recreation (weather permitting)
4 pm art therapy
5:30 pm Day room activities
6:45 Dinner
7:30 medicine
8 showers
9 pm Lights out
Note: Smoking is allowed outside, and during dayroom activities and outside recreation ONLY.
Patients who miss an activity without the authorization of a nurse or doctor will be subject to a loss of privileges.
Loss of privileges can happen if a patient fails to eat at all three meal times, patients are found to be gambling (poker included), is found smoking indoors, patients are found to be "cheeking" or spitting out their medication, patients found to be consuming alcohol, or patients found outside of the ward.
Dan read all this and was happy to find listed three square meals and recreation times, but unhappy about the no alcohol and poker rule. Oh well he thought, I'll survive.
It was now 2 pm so the bossy man gave him a tour of the ward (the ward was really small, and the day room had six tables, two couches, a TV in the corner, a ping pong table, shelves filled with books and board games aligning the walls, and an open area with foldable chairs for group therapy).
After the tour Dan was led to the end of the long hall where the patients' rooms were and was shown the Art Therapy room. The bossy man took Dan inside and then went to a man in a lab coat and said something and left the room. The man in the lab coat went to Dan and held out his hand for a handshake. "Daniel, I am Dr. Meyer. I am the art therapy counselor."
Dan shook the man's hand. "Actually I prefer Dan."
"Okay Dan. Take a seat at any table. Today we're working with crayons."
Dan looked around and saw a spot open. He took it but found himself bumping elbows with the woman to his right. She was left handed.
"What do I draw?" He asked her, taking a blue crayon from the basket in the middle of the table. As a 45 year old man he felt weird using crayons.
"Anything." The woman said coldly
Dan never thought of himself as an artist, and he hadn't truly drawn anything by himself since his senior year of high school. He thought of how good an artist David was…and found himself missing David. So he drew the one thing that he didn't miss because he'd often dreamt of it at the bottom of the Mississippi River; His piece of crap truck.
He pictured the body in relation to the tires, and drew what he saw in his head. He was working on the tailgate when he realized Dr. Meyer was standing behind him.
"That you're truck?" He asked.
Dan felt this was a stupid question, but hid that feeling and shook his head yes.
"That's an interesting thing to draw…" Dr. Meyer said this as he walked away. It bothered Dan that he couldn't tell if it was a bad thing or a good thing.
Dan had finished painting his truck just in time for Art Therapy to be over. The group of patients left the room noisily and ended up in the day room. Dan saw a patient take a deck of cards from a basket on top of a book shelve and made his way toward him.
He was stopped by Nurse Intman. "Conner, you missed Individual Therapy so you're supposed to go and meet with Dr. John right now. Follow me."
For the third time that day Dan followed someone somewhere and ended up in a small office, with lots and lots of books and a man sitting behind a desk whom Dan was positive was smaller than bossy man. Suddenly a thought came across his mind, why did he feel like the Green Giant?
The man was small but older, and had glasses. He motioned for Dan to take a seat and Dan did.
"What do you prefer to be called?" Was his first question.
"Dan."
"Very well, Dan, I have reviewed you're file since your incident yesterday and I have decided to add an extra 24 hours to your evaluation period." Dr. John was stern and instantly unlikable based on how he said that. Dan felt his temper rising but controlled it. It's not that big a deal, he told himself.
"Why?" He asked childlike.
"I feel that the time you spent under observation for your head wound may have altered your mental state. I am not adding the time because I feel you are a danger to yourself or others I am only adding it so I can better understand you."
Those words did not sound good to Dan even though they made sense to him.
"Listen doc, I'll admit that I'm not too sure of my 'mental state', myself right now. I was in a car accident yesterday, my wife died and when I found that out I got a little hard to handle. I'm sorry about that. Every little thing reminds me of my wife." Dan kept going without stopping. The doctor just sat there still and listened. He felt Dan needed to get all this out, and he was anxious to hear it.
"I had eggs for breakfast and the only thing I could think of is that eggs were the last breakfast me and Roseanne had together, and that was three days ago. Three days ago. That made me feel like crap because I should've made a little bit more time in the morning so we could eat together again, instead of hitting the snooze button twice and rushing to go to work. I sat at freaking art therapy and thought of my daughter's boyfriend because he draws good. Every idea I had that I could draw reminded me of someone in my family, and then I started thinking about how that person would be affected by Roseanne's passing and I felt like crap again. My son spent the night in the waiting room last night. He found out from nurses that I was going to be sent here and I didn't want him to know. Again I felt like crap because that reminded me of when I found out my mom had been mentally ill all my life and I was never told, because even at 43 years old, my dad wanted it to be a secret."
"This morning my sister in law told me that her and Roseanne's mom made funeral arrangements without consulting anyone so my wife will probably be buried even though we both decided we wanted to be cremated. Actually, I'm kind of glad about that because with me here, Jackie would be left taking care of those arrangements and she shouldn't have to. And I am not letting my kids make those arrangements." Dan took a quick breath, and Dr. John thought he was finished until he continued;
"I told my oldest son I would be home tomorrow and now because of you that won't happen." Dan finally finished, and his body language showed he was content now. Dr. John surmised that Dan giving him the speech he just gave was helpful to Dan. By saying all that Dan was working out his feelings.
"The last part you said, did you say that last because that's your most important thought?'
Dan had expected the clichéd "and how does that make you feel?" so when Dr. John asked his question, Dan felt relieved. He was sure if Dr. John had used that whole cliché he would have wrung the psychiatrists neck.
Dan thought about the answer for a moment. "I guess so."
"Getting home that's Important to you?"
"My kids are dealing with the death of their mom by themselves. I'd like to be with them…" Dan growled. He was losing control of his temper.
Dr. John could see the anger welling up inside Dan and made note of it. He changed the subject. "What was going through your mind when you "got a little hard to handle"?" Dr. John used Dan's words.
Dan had been sitting down and leaning forward. Now he leaned back and sighed. "I don't really remember. All I could think about was seeing Roseanne again."
"Do you remember the nurse?" Dan thought about it.
"No. But I remember throwing the tray and yelling something. I also remember a guy tackling me. He turned out to be my doctor."
"What happened was not you conscious fault. You experienced "Scrimpenski's Phenomenon". It's a rare occurrence, where someone who has just been through a traumatic experience and found out that they were the only survivor, struggles to accept the truth. Their subconscious replaces the truth with fake information and the conscious acts on it. You couldn't accept that you're wife passed away so in your mind, you couldn't see your wife because the nurse was keeping her from you. When you thought the nurse was keeping Rosanne away from you got up from bed in order to see your wife. This phenomenon is a little like survivor's guilt, and the reason you became violent is your brain started secreting adrenaline. It wasn't your fault." Dr. John made sense again, but Dan was skeptical. Not because he thought Dr. John was lying, but because this diagnosis didn't add up to the extra hours.
"So if my mind was feeding me false information and I was acting on it, then why the extra 24 hours? You obviously know why I was violent, and you say it wasn't my fault."
Dr. John admired Dan's summary of his diagnosis. "I was concerned about the answers on your psychiatric intake form. Nurse Intman wrote down that you seemed depressed, and that your body language suggested discomfort when the subject of drinking came up."
Dan couldn't believe his ears. "Wait you're keeping me here because of what I said when I was asked if I drink more than normal?" Dan became self-conscious about his drinking again. Is my drinking really that big of a problem? He asked himself.
"Do you think you have a drinking problem?"
Dan got frustrated. "If I say yes. Do you keep me here?"
"No. I can't keep you here because you have a drinking problem, not legally at least. My job is only to declare whether you're a danger to yourself. And alcoholism isn't covered under danger. Not yet. Does this mean you think you have a drinking problem?"
Dan went quiet and looked at his lace less shoes. "I honestly don't know. Sometimes I don't know why I drink, other times I drink because something is going on and I don't how to handle it, other time's I drink just because there's nothing else I can do." Dan said this while twisting two fingers from his right hand around his ring finger. Normally he was wearing his wedding ring but that was gone. He was so used to wearing it; he didn't notice its absence until now.
The doctor leaned back, feeling they were making progress. "Does drinking make you happy?"
Dan looked back up at the doctor. They made eye contact. "Yeah." He answered, realizing that at the moment, he had a drinking problem.
