The red double doors swing open and the nurses patiently wait for me to say goodbye to my mother. Tears stream down both our faces as I stand up from the wheelchair and hug her tightly.
“Mom, I’m scared.” I say, as my voice cracks.
“You’ll be okay,” she whispers, her hands clasped around mine. “You’ll be okay.”
Just like that she let go and I’m wheeled into the psychiatric unit. The doors make a loud buzzing noise as they clamp shut. I hear them lock behind me simultaneously as a lump of irrational abandonment settles in my stomach. I find myself immediately on the verge of throwing up and I feel my whole body shivering. Why do hospitals always have to be so damn cold?
“Mom, I’m scared.” I say, as my voice cracks.
“You’ll be okay,” she whispers, her hands clasped around mine. “You’ll be okay.”
Just like that she let go and I’m wheeled into the psychiatric unit. The doors make a loud buzzing noise as they clamp shut. I hear them lock behind me simultaneously as a lump of irrational abandonment settles in my stomach. I find myself immediately on the verge of throwing up and I feel my whole body shivering. Why do hospitals always have to be so damn cold?
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