The QUIET ROOM

We continued our quest, as a family, to visit my sister, Susan and hope the drugs, shocks and T.L.C. would come together to raise her up into a better world. Sadly, her stay on the Psych Ward took a blistering turn for the worst.

The first ECT treatment was to happen on a Wednesday. No water, no medications, no food. Empty vessel for a procedure many thought had died with the dark ages. Susan had, once again, fooled those around her by getting past the nurse's desk at 3:00 am, meet her cravings at the communal refridgerator only to drink a small carton of milk. Sadly, it was enough to cancel the procedure we had all willed our way to this great place called 'hope'. Sabotaged.

The next two days, before another attempt to send electrical waves through her brain, would be 'challenging' for a better word. Susan was not the patient who 'went along' with directions or took advice from professionals. She is a lost adult living in a child's world with chemicals flowing through her veins and treatments lined up like rubber ducks. She is as complex as a patient can be. Susan does not understand 'her own labels' and she has more than one to carry on her frail shoulders.



Then the day finally came for her first ECT treatment. I would go up at 7:00 am in the morning to hold her hand and take her to the mighty 'O.R.' where the team of medical personal would give her the first jolt into a very confused mind. Would it work? Well..it's only the first of a series so, my hopes were not high but the process has finally started and it has worked a number of times before. So, we take a big breath in before walking through the sealed doors of the Psych Ward where Susan is being 'prepped' for her 1st treatment.

It was odd to be on the ward so early. The patients were mostly asleep and I sat alone at their kitchen table while Nurse Cheryl attended to Susan's needs. I guess she wouldn't have to brush her teeth before a morning shock treatment? I don't know? Does appearance really matter?

She's put on a rollerdex bed and wheeled up to me. There is no sign of life in her eyes. Had she just given in to the treatment? I did my 'brother act part 48', "you'll be fine, I'm here with you, I love you, it's all going to work out, you ARE GOING TO GET BETTER, don't BE AFRAID." Easy offerings but did she hear any of it? I held her hand as they wheeled her into the cold container called 'the elevator'. And down we go..down, down, down.

She's wheeled into the O.R.. The Dr., Dr. Kyne (no, not Kind as I hoped for) was waiting for his 7:45 patient: Susan Mary Evelyn Walker. He greeted me with an official smile. I guess he could pick up on my awkward attendance. 'Should I stay or should I go?', the song kept playing in my head. I kept an eye on the male nurse who was tapping Susan's arm, looking for that 'one' vein he could stick the anesthetic in to. But, she's not one to please. Her veins are hers and they are hidden from all. Another Nurse takes over and finally, the needle is inserted and the juices are pushed into her small body. She's going into 'her deep sleep'... I see her body go limp and the male nurse press an oxygen mask over her face. The steam from her breath fogs the globe and she is 'away'.

Dr. Kyne took me under his wing and told me about the procedure. This was cool comfort as I continued to grip my sister's hand tightly...hoping she KNEW I was still there, still believing in her wellness. He told me what the male nurse was doing. Her head was strapped down with a plastic band and suckers were sealed to her forhead and chin. She looked like a poor excuse for a bad science project. Wires were everywhere and monitors. I was not quick to absorb ECT 101 from Dr. Kyne (not Kind). I just wanted this to be over with.

The countdown began the male nurse put a huge rubber mouth-guard in place so she didn't bite her tongue off. We all know what that is for. A button is hit, a red button. I thought I'd see her body convulse, her back arch, my world stop..but, it didn't happen that way. Her face became very tight and all facial muscles pulled in with force, but, only for seconds. Then, it was over. It was 'that fast'. I let out a breath. OVER..THE FIRST SESSION IS OVER. But, it wasn't. The 'graph read-out was not good'. Susan HAD BEEN GIVEN MEDICATIONS THE NIGHT BEFORE and this altered her altered state. It had not been 'very' successful. So, add another nurse and repeat. ZAP number 'two'. Better, but still not what they wanted. Not a PERFECT RESULT. The Dr., Dr Kyne (not Kind) looked at me and rolled his eyes.

I asked him what was wrong? He said, "they should not have had her on any medications prior to this procedure. It's clearly written on her charts." He lets out a frustrated sigh but gives me a smile. "Not to worry, it still 'worked', not great..but, effective enough. Mind you, I'd like to take this graph read-out and slap it on their staff fridge!"...Yeah, me too..I'd like to slap a lot of things on the fridge.

I went into a waiting room and saw two newborn twins being rolled out in plastic bubbles to be cleaned up, weighed and checked for 5 toes and 5 fingers. I smiled. Yes, I smiled for the first time in a long time. To see two screaming newborns pass my sister's O.R. room was the ultimate contrast. LIFE.

After an anxious thirty minute wait the metal door flew open and Susan was pushed out on her gurney. She was awake, to my surprise. Her arms went out in my direction as she coaxed me to come closer and hold onto her. Tears build in my eyes but I have to hold in any emotion. She has to know I'm strong, I'm there for her, it's all about HER GETTING BETTER..no time for tears or worry.

She doesn't speak and I hold her hand as we go up to the Psychiatric Ward, again. With help, the nurse and I get her to her feet and help her into bed. The curtains are shut to keep the light out. She needs to rest, she needs quiet time. She only spoke once when we were alone, "Tom, I don't think it worked." The last thing I wanted to hear.

She slept. A day later Susan was 'out of control'. She was screaming random words of hatred at the nurses and banging on doors. She howled at the clouds and screamed until another pill was pushed into her mouth. Anti-psychotics came at her every 4 hours. Family were NOT TO VISIT. Susan did not SLEEP. She was moved to the quiet room so she could 'rage on', 'strike out', 'fall apart'. No one could stop her. This went on for hours, then days. She never slept..she was PURE ADRENALIN.

Did the treatment have an adverse effect? Where her medications more like poison in her system? Was this just HER RAW MENTAL BREAKDOWN in it's very lowest form? Worst of all...how do we, how do they STOP THE MADNESS? The quiet room is locked, then it's not locked. She wanders out and churns up the entire ward to a higher decimal. She has to STAY IN THE QUIET ROOM until she is, quiet. But, this tiny sister of mine is spitting her rage at anyone who comes close. I've seen this before. Family just wants to cover their ears and go back to a time when Susan was simply, Susan, this curly-haired girl with old-fashioned glasses and a sweet disposition. OH GOD, where is she?

But, we re-assure each other as family members do. It's a glitch. It's only the first treatment...she normally responds well after about 4 or is it 5 treatments? SHE WILL BURN OUT. She cannot bang doors, rip her clothing, and cuss at strangers forever. The madness will end. We just pray harder and trust in Dr. Kyne (not Kind).

Saint Elaine

My visits to the hospital continued last week. Some days Susan is a blank canvas, other days you pick up on a ray of hope. But, one person always seems to 'get' it. The 'Energizer Bunny'. Yes, Elaine, Susan's breathing coach and BFF, has suddenly become my escape person on the ward.

Elaine is also bi-polar but she's a wonder. She is flat out 'honest' about all that happens on the 5th floor. She watches people. It's not just the nurses and Psychiatrists who get diagnosed by Elaine, but it's the family members too. She has it all figured out. Elaine runs the 5th floor and don't think otherwise.

So, while Susan is sleeping, I take my usual chair at the 'let's talk table' and listen to the wisdom I now call, 'Elaine's Corner'. She, with her classic jewelry, her modern ways and zen personality, tells me about the carts. "Those blood-sucking carts need to be changed. Listen to them. It's seven a.m. and they want 'us', the ill entitled, to sleep through this?"

I could just sit and listen to Elaine for hours. She's a one-woman show. I also love her relationship with my sister. She adores Susan. She tells me that Susan is 'special' and needs to be held and loved. She's a fragile ceramic doll fighting her demons, but she will win! Yes, Elaine steps it up when it comes to nurturing my very sick sister. She has that 'energy' you could put in a pill and pop into your loved ones mouth. It's called: 'HOPE'.

Elaine is the Jack Nicholson of the ward. She has her 'it' man, Randy, who gets her a Tim Horton's coffee every morning. She hands out the meals, sets the tone for the day and makes it her goal to bring some joy back into my sister's life. How can you not love a leader, bi-polar or not, who is willing to embrace a total stranger and promise her, 'it's all going to work out'.

We tend to shy away from anyone on a ward who is labeled or 'sick'. I judged Elaine quickly when she first spent time with Susan. I felt she was intrusive. Perhaps that's my shield going up to protect the one I love. But, after observing 'the Energizer Bunny' talk to Susan, hold her hand, give her a hug and nurture her like she was one of her own daughters...I had to 'let it go'. I had to trust this woman to 'be there' for my sister when visitors were not around. She is a lifeline.

I felt connected to Elaine. When Susan was getting bathed or having blood tests, I would sit with her and listen to her 'amazing' stories. Were they true? I didn't know and I didn't care because she was full of personality and life. She generated more positive energy than a prescribed medication. I felt comfortable with her.

Then, like many surprises in life, I found out who Elaine 'really was'. Her adult daughters came for a regular visit. They were taking 'Mom' out for the day. I was happy that Elaine had a strong support system, children who loved her. I'm sure she is an amazing mother. But, one sister looked at me with uncertainty. Did she think I was a patient? Did she feel uncomfortable letting me through the locked doors before I announced myself? I was being watched.

Elaine had left the ward. I silently wished her a good day. As always I went up to the glass-enclosed nurses station to share my plans. "I will try to take Susan out today for a walk. I will be back before dinner. Do I need to take any medications? Who is her nurse today? How is she? Do you think she'll want to come out?" While I coughed up my monologue, a woman, one of Elaine's daughters, tapped my shoulder..."Will?..are you Will Walker?"

I just stared at her as my thoughts went back not one, not two but, three decades. "KELLEY?" Yes, it was Kelley Holgate...the only woman in my adult life I had had a relationship with. She was my partner in crime teaching children at Summer Camp Schools, she was my girlfriend at University..the girl 'every guy' wanted. She was Kelley the pitcher of the woman's softball league, Kelley the guitar playing singer, Kelley the woman who championed me to happy times. Yes, this was ELAINE'S OLDEST DAUGHTER

.

She was shy. That's unlike her as she was always the center of attention. But, the way we were re-introduced into one anothers lives would be through our family members. I pointed to Susan's closed door and told Kelley that Susan is bi-polar. She points past the locked doors to tell me 'Elaine', her mother, is bi-polar. These two unlikely woman meeting on a Psychiatric Ward at the end of Winter. What were the chances?

We run into old mates, fellow relatives and co-workers in places we least expect to see them...but, on a Psyciatric Ward? I felt this wave of relief that someone I knew was experiencing the same weight of 'keeping the flames alive'. Kelley told me her mother was in for the fourth time but, I already knew this as 'Elaine' had told me many things about her life. She was a story-teller.

I hugged Kelley for a long time. I just wanted to go back to University and feel her glow. She was always upbeat and unpredictable. I now felt that 'Elaine's' presence was not just a fluke. She felt she knew me and , with a laugh, I reminded Kelley that 'her mother' always wanted us to get married. Her mother who is now my sister's keeper. It's bigger than the lottery, it's more than just 'chance'. Somehow I felt that Elaine was meant to be there for Susan and that I was meant to run into Kelley...the 'one woman' who made those few years in my life so exciting and so entertaining. We, afterall, were dubbed the 'Mickey and Minnie Mouse' of University. We had a reputation and it was one that many were envious of.

So, Kelley is off to Wales to watch her youngest twin get married. I leave my phone number and address so we can catch up. Who would have thought that so many years later, her mother who claimed to be my future mother-in-law would be bonding with my sister. Perhaps things do happen for a reason. Perhaps Elaine was always meant to be in my life. I told Kelley that her mother has been so kind to my sister. Kelley lit up, like she had always done years ago and said, "my mother is UNIQUE."

I felt like I was 20 years old again and we were on our first date. Who would have guessed it would be in the middle of a psychiatric ward with my sister on the left and her mother on the right. Curveballs.

Lifting Clouds

Some days feel endless. Some days are too long because we spend too much time lifting clouds.




How do you know you're immersed in dark clouds? Well...sometimes we don't, sometimes we just feel pulled under them like a strong current on a wild, unkown river. We're part of a circus we did not want to join. They call it 'unchartered territory'. You don't know what your next move should be, you don't feel comfortable with the choices you may have to make. That's been 'my life so far'. Numb, you are just numb.

I've had 'sunny periods'. Yes, those bright and colourful days or parts of days where life is almost euphoric. Usually it involves some close encounter with an animal or stranger who just adds some cost-free joy to a moment. The dog may press his wet nose into your hand or the stranger may say something suprisingly funny at a time when you least expect it. We call those 'gem moments'.

It's all about the energy we give off and the energy we get from others. Sometimes, especially of late, I haven't felt very energetic. I know a lot of this is based on my choices. You give too much, you worry too much, you try to absorb other people's pain so they 'feel better', but, in the long run you are just releasing more and more of those dark clouds over your head.

Finding the energy can happen in your own home, in the moment or simply by throwing your arms back while breathing deeply and saying 'enough'. We just have to embrace the people around us and if they are angry, depressed or ill, we can still be that 'calm' in the middle of their chaos. Sounds impossible, but it is possible. Choices. We all make those choices to let others drain us or build us up.

I find talking to dog is much more healing than talking to a shrink or even a good friend. The dog just listens and licks your face, gives you the sad eyes and thumps his tail. Now that's what I'm talking about. LIFT A CLOUD, GET A LICK! Or, you drive up to a waterfall and stand near it. The motion of the water is like liquid hands massaging your tired brain. Just sit on a boulder and let nature's magic soothe. "Forget your troubles c'mon get HAPPY!"

Our brains are just computers processing the past, worrying about the future or trying so hard to exist in the present. It doesn't have to be that way: choices. Everyone is abuzz over the latest technical devices, the added features to make driving a car 'more comfortable' or the i-phone that acts as a computer, movie central, camera, text monster and carry-on-phone to stay 'linked' to facebook and google, twitter and e-mails. It's also called 'overload'...TMI. I'd toss tech toys if you want to 'lift clouds'.

Imagine this: taking a good book to a solitude log by the ocean shore. Imagine 'reading it' without all of the above. Imagine the author putting the book together to please his audience...and he was likely writing by the seaside. Imagine passing seagulls drifting over your head while the wind sends them to new heights. Now, the clouds are starting to break apart...you can breathe again.

Imagine planting a flower in moist soil. Usually, after planting a dozen bulbs and flowers you can smell the earth. You watch a snail,yes A SNAIL, move slowly across a leaf. It may take all day. He may stay there until the next day. But, what does it matter ... he doesn't have to please anyone, he doesn't have to 'make a deadline', he's just in it for food, sunshine and maybe a mate!

I'm always trying to find ways to lift the clouds. It's not easy as we live with so much stimulation around us: the noise, the crowds, the deadlines, the expectations, be healthy, be strong, be smart, be yourself! Yourself, that's a muddy world. How can you be yourself when everyone wants 'you' to 'make them' feel better?

Then, someone actually tells you 'to be selfish!'. I thought reading the book, planting the seeds, sleeping in was 'being selfish'..but it's more than that. Plants need water to grow, the mind needs creative ways to forge forward, the body needs to touch life forces that are not plugged in.
There are endless ways to lift clouds in our lives but it's very simple, like an addict, to go back into that box and lead that sheltered life that other people expect of you. Best you look in a mirror and ask yourself, 'was this what I wanted, am I happy, will the SUN COME OUT TOMORROW....TOMORROW...I LOVES YA..TOMORROW YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE.

Lifting clouds is the 'art' of looking after yourself. Get outside of your box. Try something new. Go somewhere new. Be alone but welcome others as you take your journey 'alone'. You make the rules, you lift the clouds and the sunshine will follow. I promise.

Monsters Under Her Bed, Monsters In Her Head

Yes, I had a wonderful day with my sister, Susan YESTERDAY but today, she wore her mask of mental illness like it was a badge of honor. She had a bad, bad day and sadly, like many family members, I got a front row seat.

When I arrived into her locked world, the nurse 'Grace' told me she wasn't taking her medication. She was "not in great shape". So, I took that deep breath I always take before entering her world, her room, her mind.

She was sitting on the bed in her pajamas. Her hair was wild, her eyes cast down to the floor and her hands were shaking so badly I thought she was about to have a seizure. I sat on the hard bed and put my arm around her. Cold comfort. You try, we all try to make it better but we can't 'be' where she is. It's like Alice lost down the rabbit hole with demons and monsters. No arm is long enough to drag her out.

Again, I put on some soothing music and spoke 'with love' about how things WILL BE BETTER (and yes, I doubt my own words..but I say them with confidence...THINGS WILL BE BETTER). She just rocks and stares at her shaking hands. I try to get her to take the pills. Small psychedelic pills pooling in my palm. She tightens her lips. The universal sign for 'I'm not taking the poison'.

So, I offer her water but she cannot hold the Dixie cup. I hold it to her lips and she takes a sip. PROGRESS. Now, just work on the pills brother Tom, brother Tom. More sips, more 'happy talk' about how the medications will make her feel better. After 30 minutes of coaxing and smiles, she opens her mouth and the pills go in. But, did she swallow them? Back to that water bottle. She has made it through the first part of her morning. Now, I wait for her to stop shaking, to unravel from her madness and speak.

I read from her book and pretended it was our 'usual visit'. I told her I had planned a day at the bird sanctuary in Ladner. We would go out for a lovely lunch and feed the ducks. It's a sunny day and we'd have a SUNNY TIME. But, we never got past the locked doors...not today.

Finally the medications took effect and she attempted to talk. Only parts of words or sentences. Confusion was the drug of her day. She tried to stand several times as I held her. She hadn't bathed in a long time. I could smell the illness rising from her body. I herded her into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She was not able to squeeze the paste onto the brush so I did this and helped her brush. She spat on the floor missing the sink by a foot. She looked in the mirror...her eyes were sunken and her stare was frightening, "I'm a terrible person, I'm a terrible person."

As we walked back to the bed I brushed her hair and did my usual rants about her being 'a BEAUTIFUL PERSON', but, each time she would come back with more self-hatred. "I'm horrible to everyone. I've lost my home. I have nothing. I have nothing. I should just disappear." And, that is what is happening. My sister is 'disappearing' day to day..she's leaving us in slow motion and ALL THE KINGS HORSES AND ALL THE MEDICAL MEN..COULDN'T PUT SUSAN TOGETHER AGAIN.... I think of terrible rhymes like that...I imagine a world without her and it's just unacceptable.

Another patient comes by and walks into the room. She is also Bi-Polar but, she's on the 'Manic' portion of her illness, today. She hugs Susan and tells her to take deeeeeeeeeeeeep breaths. "Don't you worry Susan, Elaine is here to save you. I will save you Susan! I know what it's like! We're like sisters! The intrusion was too much and I had to get Nurse Grace to take this ill woman back to her side of the ward. I have enough madness in a box without another person 'cutting in'.

Susan finally got dressed with a lot of help. She didn't colour today or put her glasses on but she went to the nurses station 'one time'. She told Grace, with her dead eyes and wild hair, that she was sorry she was mean to her. "I love all the nurses. I love you and all the other nurses. I won't bother you anymore." Grace was given the 'right name'...she held Susan's hands and said, "We love you too Susan and you'll be fine! Why don't you go out with your brother and enjoy the day. We'll watch your things and keep your door shut. Just enjoy the day." But, Susan was already walking away.

Back in her room she stared at herself in the mirror repeating 'dark untruths' about herself. It was like watching a beautiful animal in a leg trap chewing away at themselves. I had to go. I had to breath fresh air, to eat a meal, to drink a beer..to just GET OUT. Madness is contagious you know. I needed space. I told Grace I'd be back but I had to go..it had been 4 hours...oh, how insanity chews up time.

After time around happy people talking about happy times, I went back to the ward. Susan was deep into her madness now. Sobbing and tearing her clothes off. My presence was no better than the hook on the back of the door. I was simply an observer. She began to hyperventilate as she screamed and tore her clothing off. I had seen this before...years ago. It's like watching someone you love dissolve in front of you and you cannot STOP THE MADNESS.

The nurses rushed in and I walked away. We have to walk away when we're ghosts in her world. We cannot save her, we cannot help her, we cannot stop the process. I walked away and tears just blindly fall from my face. I feel no guilt. I just feel sad inside. But, tomorrow is out there and I hold onto the 'tomorrows'. Faith, hope, love, support, touch, prayers...they all pool together as I drive home.

Country High

I arrived at the hospital at 10:30 sharp. The nurses love it when family take their 'disturbed' patients on day outings. So, that was my cue..a day outing. Susan wasn't dressed. She was staring out the window and rocking in her chair. I told her I had a 'great day planned'. Picnic and the whole 'trail walk', 'feed the horses' and 'walk the dog'...dreamy, don't you think?

She was indifferent but I forced the outing. I told her, "you need fresh air, you need to get out of this place..this place...this place of stagnant air and ill people..you need TO GET OUT!"

So, she was game. She put on her new running shoes and put on her top (backwards, but I corrected that) and I helped her re-tie her running shoes and sign the 'OUT PATIENT' form so we could get on with our day. The DAY WITH DAUNTING OUTCOMES..would she prevail as the 'good patient' or succumb to 'the dark patient?'....again..CRAPSHOT.

I drove through the countryside telling her all about the baby lambs and goats. She just stared out the front window as if to say 'f-off'....I'm in my lost world ...don't try to make it PRETTY.

We got to my older sister's farm. I felt a sense of calm as I believed the horses , the family dog and my nephew would 'make it better'. We had a packed picnic lunch (thank-you Mom) and I had that bold attitude, "IT'S GOING TO BE A GOOD DAY." My nephew welcomed us and gave us free reign to 'be healthy and live healthy.' Ruby, a big tan dog, galloped up to us with her tail wagging and her indifference to Susan's mental health issues. She was , Ruby. Susan pet her and smiled. HOPE. We took her out to the trails and walked. Susan clapped her hands to get Ruby's attention. OH..MY GOD..A CLAP!! It was a good moment. She clapped her hands. Clapping is much better than sobbing.

Later, we sat and had our picnic lunch. She ate her meal with gusto and reached over to eat mine too. That was okay. EAT MY LUNCH..BE HAPPY...ENJOY YOUR OUTING. I was just thrilled to see her interacting with a dog, a horse, my lunch..anything..just BE HAPPY SUSAN...BE HAPPY.We left our picnic to feed the horses. With her 'hoodie' up, she fed the horses. She was not afraid to touch the soft muzzles of the boarding horses even though she normally 'feared' feeding such large animals. She connected. I felt like we had reached some 'break-through'.

Time was running out. The day was fading. I had to get her back to the Psych Ward before 5 P.M. She hugged Ruby with gusto. Susan walked back to the horses to touch their soft muzzles and tell them, 'they were pretty'. She was tranquil. When did I last see her like this?

We drove back along the country roads with the music from 'South Pacific' blaring. She loved the music and tapped her foot. The 'day outing' ended. It was good..it was a GOOD DAY..a rare but GOOD DAY. When I left the hospital I felt relieved. It was a GOOD DAY...why couldn't every day be a good day for my sister. Why?

Visiting Hours

I hit the buzzer, again. It is my twelfth visit to see my sister, Susan in the Psychiatric Ward at Peace Arch Hospital. There is a 'globe' over my head to identify me. But, because of my constant visits..they just buzz now and let me in. I push the big metal door open and wonder if my sister would be colouring at the table or sitting in a wooden rocking chair looking out the window 'at nothing'. She is bi-polar, she is also developmentally delayed or 'retarded' as they said in the 1960's. To me, Susan has always been beautiful, always. Her tiny frame, a mere 4 foot 11 and her curly hair and big glasses. She is the child we all have been. But today, she is rocking in a chair fighting her demons. We all have demons but she cannot control hers.

I always act before I talk, wrapping my arms around her hunched frame and telling her 'I love you'. Sometimes she responds by patting my hand, sometimes she just keeps rocking. Then, the guilt flows through my veins. Did I contribute to this? Her room is simple and bland. She has a knapsack she rhythmically takes apart then re-builds. Sometimes we sit side by side and colour in her books: angels and animals. She pushes down hard with one colour and her glasses ride low on her nose as she looks at me with this empty stare. I colour beside her, talking with glee and joy, trying to pull her to a happier place. It doesn't work. She just keeps colouring like a four year old who needs to finish a simple project.Sometimes she goes out of the ward with me. She has to 'sign out'. They can't allow anyone to just 'leave' the hospital in fear they may run off or hurt themselves. So, now, you/I become the responsible one. We go out into the Winter weather. She's wearing dark sunglasses and holding my hand. Nothing is said. I talk like a fearless brother who has nothing but good news. She's indifferent. Why should she care about my day, why should she celebrate my nice walk the day before. Her world is just full of trays with terrible food, medications that numb her, people around her that stare and wonder why she is the way she is. I am not of her world. I am just a brother trying to add 'one meaningful day' to her challenged life.

I have my camera with me and I take pictures of beautiful things around us to remind her that the world is not so terrible...but is it? I hold her hand and squeeze it to reassure her that she is so loved and never alone. She does respond. A simple squeeze back is like a flash flood of love from her. It matters.

I know her future is full of uncertainties. She may never surface to be the fun-loving sister I see every 6 weeks. She may have given up. She may not want to be part of our lives ever again..but, I fight those thoughts. I know, in my heart, she loves me and that we will 'work together' to fight this mental illness. While we walk she says nothing. She continues to hold my hand and I sing to her. I sing about 'happy things', knowing she can hear the words but wondering if it will make a difference?

She is set to go for ECT (shock treatment) to jar her mind back to 'our' world. It's a crapshot. It's something she has been through before. She thinks it will kill her, she believes it is dangerous and doesn't want to do it but, there is no other way to get her back into our lives. We, the family, are all on pins and needles. We want 'our Susan' back with us.

Life is not fair. Life deals us challenges we can either walk away from or confront. Susan is 'special', yes, she is...all of us are. I will take that walk with her to the 'treatment room' and pray it helps her come back to us. She is loved, she is beautiful and she feels alone right now. We have to rise from our petty worlds and help her. She's my sister, and I love her. Life is not an oyster with a pearl inside, it's a series of choices and challenges. So, we run away or we accept. I accept.