just visiting

My sister brought me to treatment early Monday, so I got out my journal to pass the time until my turn. But then I forgot my journal in the ECT prep room, so I had to drive to the psychiatric hospital today to go retrieve it. I went up to the receptionist counter, though it wasn’t the usual receptionist that knows me. I told her that I left something in the ECT area that I needed to get. She asked me, “Are you a nurse or a resident?” I kindly had to tell her, “No, I’m a patient.”

“Oh,” she said, as she placed a call to the ECT room.

She then handed me a visitor badge and let me go to the 3rd floor to get the journal. As I waited on the elevator, Iwas kind of hit with an odd feeling. It was my first time in this psychiatric hospital without actually being a patient (twice in-patient, twenty-plus times outpatient). When the elevator came, a group of patients strolled out to go to lunch. I’ve been where they are, I thought to myself.

The nurse gave me my diary when I got to the ECT room. I went back downstairs, returned my visitor badge, and left for home.

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