Comments on: Part One: When Life Hands You Lemons, Juggle.

By: Ashley

Ashley — Tue, 05 Dec 2006 20:04:31 +0000

I love that you shared this story.

By: Josie

Josie — Thu, 30 Nov 2006 03:55:49 +0000

Geez. I work at a hospital and walk through the behavioral unit every day on my way to my office. The childrens unit is across the couryard from our office windows and last week, when I was still throwing myself a personal pity party, I looked across and saw a little boy staring off. He noticed me and immediately got a pen and paper and wrote me a series of notes. I was touched.

I look back over the years of growing up in a not so good household and all the shit that has happened – not to mention the serious depression that runs in my family and I always think, as I walk through those halls in the morning, if my life had taken one different twist, that I could be there. It is truly humbling.

Thanks for sharing your story.

Oh, yeah, I brought my knitting needles to a group home once (at my old job) apparently that is not a good idea either.

By: Kath

Kath — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 18:42:35 +0000

Ow, Alexa. That must have been so awful for you.

By: andy

andy — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 15:45:39 +0000

I’m guessing you thought ‘Girl, Interrupted’ was just downright hilarious!

By: christina

christina — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 15:45:20 +0000

What interesting writing.

Psych wards should be less scary. B/c my father is schizophrenic I have visited many.

I am glad that I finally went to talk to someone…anxiety, as your story shows, can get out of hand in a hurry.

By: LetterB

LetterB — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 05:38:40 +0000

I actually thought that the first mention of the knitting needles was a tragic foreshadowing. What a relief that it was a tragicomic one instead. Awaiting the next installment. (Also seriously need to find a “Tea and Sympathy Ward” that takes my insurance).

By: TB

TB — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 04:25:33 +0000

That pen and paper were a real godsend. (well, that and some socks with rubber, waterproof soles) I can only imagine all of the things you had to write about.

By: jonniker

jonniker — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 04:04:04 +0000

I love this entry, for a frillion reasons. But more than anything, I ADORE that you brought knitting needles to the psychiatric ward.

By: Flicka

Flicka — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 01:04:09 +0000

Alexa, this post touched me so deeply. It brought back all sorts of memories of Sarge in the early days of his illness, when so much of our time was spent in hospitals. The very first time he was admitted, he was admitted to the acute psych ward. There was a man leading a group session with profound patients. I remember him asking one girl what she had to do if she wanted milk. “If you want the mily, you have to ask for the milk.” he said slowly and firmly. Sarge begged me not to leave him there. It was the hardest thing I have ever done to turn and walk away. The memory still makes me cry. Like you, I was expecting a kinder, gentler, less institutionalized place.

Reading out your knitting reminded me of the way they methodically removed all the drawstrings from Sarge’s pants and hooded sweatshirts. The way they searched his bags for anything he could hurt himself with. How I had to remove the glass from our wedding photo so he could have a picture of us in his room. How I stood outside the entrance of building after visiting hours were over, staring at the collection of strings in my hand in disbelief, wondering how we ever got to this place. Wondering if it would always be this way.

Also like you, I resolved not to let Sarge rot away in the cheerlessness of the hospital. I visited every day, for as long as I was permitted. I brought games and dinner. I made friends with the nurses, doctors and the other patients. I wound up making beef stew for 30 one day because I didn’t want anyone to feel left out. I made chocolate birthday cake for another patient with no family or friends to help him celebrate. I remember how he teared up as we all sang to him. And the doctor who came up from a completely different floor just to meet me because the hospital was talking about my devotion to Sarge. How sad it made me that every patient there didn’t have the same.

I’m sorry, I’m taking up your comments space with what should be a blog entry of my own. I just wanted to let you know how much I understand.

By: elise

elise — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 00:31:25 +0000

All the really great writers had a touch of the crazy.

I think it’s required.