Insane

A minute passes, or so it feels like, and we arrive at the hospital.

I lift up my arm and attempt to place it on the door handle. I fail several times, but eventually grip the handle and the door swings open slowly.

When I step out of the car, I almost fall over. At this point, I barley have control over my body.

Trailing behind my mother and brother, I cautiously put one foot in front of the other until I reach the doors.

I waddle over to the counter behind my mom. She has placed the nearly empty bottle of Nyquil on the counter and is telling the receptionist what has happened, asking for a doctor as quick as possible.

Through my drunken numbness I am able to feel a mixture of two emotions: fear and embarrassment.

Not only am I afraid this might be my last day alive, I am also wishing I was anywhere but here.

I didn’t want the doctor or anyone else to know what I did to myself. Who tries to get high off Nyquil? Me. That’s who.

How stupid I must look right now, slouching over, rocking back and forth, trying to keep my legs from giving out. This girl is the definition of pathetic.

I don’t even want to know how stupid I look trying to think right now.

A man in his late twenties dressed in a white doctor coat comes down the hallway, acting completely chill, like he’s seen this before. But I know for a fact that he hasn’t. Maybe gunshot wounds or seizures, but not this.

No one is stupid enough to do what I’ve done.

He leads us down the hallway into a room with a small hospital bed, a chair and a few machines you’d expect to see in a hospital room.

He tosses me a hospital gown and I twist my body toward my mom.

“Go ahead and put it on,” the doctor says.

“Erm, do I take everything off?” I ask.

My mom looks at the doctor and then back to me.

“You can leave your underwear on,” she says.

So I strip down, not even caring that people are in the room. I put the gown on and literally crawl into the bed.

Suddenly there are tons of nurses in the room, all talking doctor stuff to each other.

One older nurse lady walks over to me with a flashlight in her hands and says, “have you had any alcohol today?”

“A little,” I say.

Another lady on the other side of me sticks a needle into my arm without warning. She removes the syringe part and hooks me up to a tube attached to a bag of liquid hanging above my head.

Then the older nurse pokes a second needle into my other arm and blood starts flooding into the bottle attached to it.

“I have to take some of your blood, okay sweetie?” She says.

I don’t answer; I just stare at the bottles of my blood she continues to fill up.

How much blood do they need? I’m not gonna have any left!

A third nurse comes through the wall of curtain and walks over to me.

“Hi there,” she says softly. She starts putting small sticky pads with red and green wires all over me that are attached to a machine on my right.

She puts them all over: my arms, chest, hands, thighs, ankles, feet, and lastly she has to pull up my gown to put them onto my stomach and under my breasts.

“I’m just gonna sneak up your dress here for a second,” she says. Within seconds, she’s done.

She walks out of the room and the old nurse returns to talk with my mom and me.

“We think she may have damaged her liver.”

The machine next to me starts beeping.

A beep every two seconds.

“Were not sure yet, but we have to make sure she stays awake. If she falls asleep, she might not wake up.”

By now, I am utterly terrified. This has turned into a huge deal of life or death, and all I really wanted to do was escape the pain for a little while, not permanently! I wish this had never happened.

My head keeps dropping forward. My neck is like jelly; I either have to lean my head way back onto the pillow or let it hang. I just continue to switch back and forth between the two without even realizing it.

After the nurse steps out of the room my mom looks to me. Her eyes have a mixture of worry and disappointment.

“I’m going to call your dad and tell him to come pick Colin up, since I’m probably going to be staying here all night.” she says.

I feel awful. I hate putting my family through this kind of stuff. You think you’re scared, you can’t even imagine how terrified they are. Wanting to tell your mom everything’s going to be alright when you don’t even know yourself. I’m sorry mom. I truly am sorry.

Eventually I’m wheeled out of my room through the wall of curtain into a little lobby area and put into another room.

My new room isn’t much different than my last one. Instead of a wall of curtain, there are giant glass windows and a sliding glass door enabling me to see right into the little lobby.

A nurse with short brown hair greets me and my mother in the room.

“Hi! I’m nurse January.”

I’m not sure if her name was really January or the Nyquil was just fucking with me.

Either way, she seemed super nice.

My mom sits in a chair facing my bed on the left side of the room as nurse January exits.

“Why’d you do it?” says my mom.

“I don’t know. Mom, I’m not happy.” I say. “I’m so bored all the time. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Well what can we do to make you happy? Tell me, please.” She says pleadingly.

To be honest, I don’t know. Usually the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness passes and I return to my everyday life, but I know that’s not what she wants to hear.

“Nothing,” I say.

“I’m worried about you, Meghan. I’m worried to leave you home alone now. I’m worried Colin’s going to come home and find you dead one day. You can’t do that to him.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“Well I don’t know if I can trust you anymore, Meghan.”

Great. Now my mom thinks I’m a suicidal psycho.

Nurse January pops her head in through the open door.

“Are you thirsty, hun? Would you like anything to drink?” she asks.

“I- uh, no thank you.” I say.

I turn my head to my mom, “To be honest I can’t tell if I’m thirsty or not.” I say clumsily with my head drooping.

Without even thinking about it, she just chuckles, her eyes still filled with worry.

We both just sit there in silence for a while.

Eventually one of the nurses comes in to talk to my mom. I guess I didn’t damage my liver after all.

I can see a huge wave of relief sweep over my mom, her eyes becoming less worried.

I can finally fall asleep with my mind at ease.