Sunday June 13^th 2010

I felt really anxious going to the hospital today as I had no idea what I was walking into, he could be calm and tired, he could be up tight and heading for an episode. Joshua was in a side room on his own, and calm. They bought us tea when I got there, the nurse was lovely, and also a tuna sandwich for Joshua. The psychiatrist was due to turn up at 10.  At 11am he still hadn’t turned up. This was feeling like déjà vu from two weeks prior especially when they move him onto the Clinical Decision Unit.

The ward was full of some right old characters. The guy opposite must have been seventy years old. He was walking round in his underwear which wasn’t a pretty sight. He came over and told us that he had fallen off a ladder whilst doing DIY. He had huge bruises on his back and legs but was very cheerful. I imagined his wife telling him ‘left a bit, a bit more’ and him trying to please, and then falling down. I think she rang him, he had to go to the nurses station to take the call. The whole ward heard the conversation! He did stumble over to our corner and ask Joshua why he was here. He fobbed him off with a ‘I drank too much last night’ story. I welled up with tears, and tried to be polite, but I think he knew there was more to it. He wished us well, he was glad to be going home, and shuffled back to his bed.

I kept crying.  I didn’t mean to, it just happened, I couldn’t control it. It made Joshua feel bad but the more I tried to hold it back the more tears rolled out. I desperately want to know what is going on. Joshua goes from being calm one minute, to getting annoyed, to becoming literally a monster. We break the day up by taking a stroll to get some food in the hospital shop. I will do anything to take his mind off the waiting, and keep him here. After eating and returning to the ward it’s past 3pm and still no sign of the psychiatrist. Every time we ask they say it won’t be long and it was wearing us down. At one point he got so angry and agitated about waiting he ripped off his hospital bracelets and ran off, just disappeared. The nurses closed in on me, they came from nowhere and said he will be taken under the mental health act if I didn’t bring him back, and they will call security. That was very scary, and also made me feel even more protective. I found him outside, near where the ambulances pull in. He was sat on a rock, part of a decorative feature, looking so alone. I explained what the nurses had said and that he needed to come back inside – which made him angry again. He was seething. People were walking past going to and from the hospital, just minding their own business, but I could see them crossing the road, or taking a swift divert to avoid us. Eventually he calmed down so we went back to the ward. I’m not sure for how much longer I could hold it together. It’s been a rollercoaster day.

 I need to know more around how he feels and while we are holed up here I will seize the opportunity ask him. So I press him slowly, over the course of 4 hours or more, it was very hard work. He looks like he is about to say something several times, purses his lips, then he stops, looks at me, says it doesn’t matter, and goes quiet. I assure him it matters very much, and that he needs to tell me, of all people. We go round and round in the same circles, getting nowhere.

Then he finally spilt the beans. He confided in me. At last a break through. Though I was not prepared for what he was about to tell me. It was one of those conversations you never will forget. He spoke frankly and quickly, maybe he was thinking if he said it fast then it wouldn’t sound so bad.