Emma: Seventh Grade

Chapter 28: Psych

Because of Emma's severe emotional breakdown, the doctors decided to send her to the psych unit the very next morning. She was too much of a hazard to herself to keep on the medical floor, according to the nurses. So the doctors had to abandon their original plan of keeping the feeding tube in Emma's nose for a while to help her gain weight, because the psych unit usually did not allow patients to have any sort of cords on them, for they could easily strangle themselves in a suicide attempt. Any exceptions would require a patient sitter to carefully watch over them at all times.

Emma was not happy at all about being transferred to the psych unit. She cried and begged the nurses repeatedly not to take her there, but they kept telling her it was for her own good. "But I promise I'll be good!" Emma sobbed. "I'm sorry I freaked out yesterday! I'll never do it again! I promise!" She was crying uncontrollably as her day shift nurse pushed Emma's last dose of IV Ativan into her arm.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," the nurse replied calmly. "All we want to do is help make you better."

The Ativan helped Emma calm down somewhat while the staff prepared her discharge orders and packed up what little belongings she had in her room. Of course, she was still restrained so she couldn't go anywhere. She stared blankly at the wall in front of her as nurses walked swiftly back and forth in front of her open door. The Ativan always made her so sleepy and foggy-minded, so Emma couldn't really think much about anything at all. Sure enough, her blue eyes closed and she dozed off once again.

A few hours later, Emma was transferred to the psych unit. When she arrived, a psych nurse helped her change out of her hospital gown and examined her naked body for any self-inflicted injuries. Then, the nurse helped her put on a pair of faded, maroon scrubs. All psych patients had to wear them, whether they wanted to or not. In spite of being a size small, the scrubs were big and baggy on Emma's thin body. The shirt looked like it could fit someone twice her size, and the pants kept slipping down off her bony hips. The rest of her belongings were put away in a secure locker and Emma wasn't allowed to have them during her stay here.

After changing into the psych scrubs, the nurse took Emma's vital signs and Dr. Sanchez, the psychiatrist, came in to examine her. "Hello, Emma," he greeted her. "How are you doing today?"

Emma sat on the exam table, her thin legs dangling off the edge. She avoided eye contact with Dr. Sanchez as she picked at the hygienic paper that was covering the exam table. "Not very good," she answered sullenly.

"Why not?" Dr. Sanchez asked. "What's going on?"

"I don't want to be in a psych ward," Emma grumbled, continuing to pick at the paper. "I'm not crazy."

Dr. Sanchez paused for a minute. "Has your anxiety gotten any better?" he asked, changing the subject.

"The Ativan helps," Emma answered flatly.

"How about your depression? Do you still feel suicidal?" Dr. Sanchez inquired, his voice gentle.

Emma hesitated as tears filled her eyes. She still felt as sad and hopeless as ever, and she had no reason to live anymore. Nevertheless, her heart ached every time she was asked that question. She secretly wished she was successful in her suicide attempt so she wouldn't have to deal with her emotional pain anymore.

"Emma?"

As tears rolled down her cheeks, Emma covered her face to stifle her sobs.

"Emma, its okay to admit you're still having suicidal thoughts," Dr. Sanchez said as he put a hand on Emma's frail shoulder. "Please don't be afraid to answer truthfully."

Emma nodded in affirmation through her tears, then covered her face and cried some more. "I'm so sorry! I'm just a burden to everyone, aren't I?" she sobbed.