This summer started out like any other summer for my family and I. That all started to change June 1st, my boyfriend (and father of 2 of my 3 children) said that he was really stressed out, and needed to go to respite(sp?) (in southeastern Ohio it is basically the step before the mental institution) . I told him that was a good decision, and proceded to make arrangements. I called the place and asked what I needed to do to get him in that night, the first step, they said whas to get him physically cleared, then have the hospital call their agency and they would send some one to screen him for mental illness/mood disorders (which he had already been diagnosed with), and finally they would take him there, if they saw fit. I packed him some clothes, snacks, and a few video games, found a sitter for the kids, and took him to a hospital.
We jumped in the car and I was driving to the hospital having a completely normal conversation...how much he was going to miss our family...what would happen if he got transfered over to the mental institution...
About fifteen minutes after we left the house we pulled into the hospital parking lot, gathered up his stuff, kissed and held hands as we walked into the hospital. We got inside and he went into the bathroom and I started to register him. He came out of the bathroom and walked in the room, then he started acting really strange. He had no idea why he was there, so I reminded him, and continued trying to register him, he started frantically telling the registration lady his whole life story. I finally got him settled down from doing that and finished registering him. As we were walking down the hallway to the ER, he asked me where he was, again, I calmly explained why, again.
We got in the ER after what seemed like miles upon miles of hallway, and the nurse did the normal stuff vitals, medications, personal and family medical history. Then they sent us into a room. He asked me again where he was and I explained again. The doctor finally came in, and I started to explain what was going on and my observances, the Doctor cut me off (very rudely, I might add), and started talking to him, he wasn't in his right mind and was trying his best I think, the doctor cut him off and started trying to talk to me again. I was mad at him for how he was treating my boyfriend and myself, so I got a bit rude to him. The doctor finally left the room, and then he told me that he had done a multitude of drugs...coricidin...smoked some pot...xanax...vicodin...oxycontin. At that point I was mad, I did not yell at him, I just turned and looked out the window over the small town. The nurse walked in and I told her that he had done all those drugs, so she could add them to the list of the 8 other prescription medications he was on. She asked him to pee in a cup for her and as he told her that there was no possible way he could pee, that they were going to have to catheterize him, he was glaring at me for telling on him. The nurse insisted that he try anyway, so he ended up locking himself in a bathroom, that I could only talk him out of, and he finally came out and tried to get the nurse to run a catheter, which she refused to do, again. I guess that was the last straw for him, he started srceaming at her " I can't p*** you f****** b****" and the nurse ran out and called security. I stopped the security officer in the hallway and told him that I got my boyfriend callmed down, but I did not know how much longer I could keep him calm, and that they may have to restrain him. My boyfriend came wandering out of the room, terrified and looking for me. so I went back in the room with him.
He wanted to leave. I told him that I thought that he should stay, but he insisted. We started getting his stuff together to go home. We walke dout of the room, I looked up and we were surrounded by 5 to 7 cops. They asked where he was going, I told them that he wanted to go home, they said that they could not let him until the doctor gave the ok. They turned to the doctor and he said "just go!", so they followed us out of the hospital and I drove him home.
I was still mad about all the drugs, and told him that I wanted him out. I took his keeys to my car and his mini van and told him that he was going to go home in the morning to his mothers house, I loved him but this was a grown up problem, not our childrens (who are 10 months 2 years and 5 years, now). He got irate at that and went home with my best friend, who lives across the street. I went over and gave her his keys and a note for him saying that if he wanted to be part of his family that he needed to get help for his drug problem.
That was the last time I saw him.
June 2nd was the worst day of my life. I did not see my boyfriend all day. Then his mom calls me and tells me that he is missing. The sherriff is looking for him. I go out to his parents house to await any news of him.
To be continued...
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You made the right decision for your children...Even though it was the hard one!!!!!!!!!