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CarlHoliday
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Thanks for the comment. ECT varies in severity on how it affects memory. Ernest Hemingway was very despondent over what ECT did to his creative abilities and some have speculated that may have contributed to his suicide. I considered voluntary ECT early in my battle with mental illness, but had to give up that idea because I wouldn't have received any family support during my potential time of recovery. Unfortunately, Ed got the worst of it because, well, I didn't want to end his story before Chapter 12.
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Dr. Levinson stopped talking to me and started writing on the yellow tablet on the desk. He was using a red ink pen. There was a knock at the door and then Peter came in. “Is the patient ready?” Peter asked. “Um, one moment,” Dr. Levinson said. He continued writing, looked up at me, wrote some more, and then put the pen down. “Edvard, when was the last time you ate?” “I don’t exactly know,” I said. “The last time I’m certain I ate was on the morning of August 18. I had breakfast b
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Always thankful for a comment, no matter how short it is.
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I was startled awake by a noise I slightly recognized. After I opened my eyes, I saw that I wasn’t in the same room I had been at County General. I was in a room with four other beds and there were patients in those beds. Next to me was a man about E3’s age who needed a shave and had a big bandage on his head. Straight across from me there was younger man who had his left leg hanging from a framework of metal posts, bars, and ropes. His lower leg and foot were in a cast. Next to him there was a
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Thank you for the comment. Yes, Ed is smarter than he gives himself credit for. Yet Syl calling him a stupid dodo and him convincing himself his IQ is 73, bears heavily on his life. Where did Ed comes from? He's only bits and pieces of people I've encountered in life.
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Thanks for the comment. In many ways some might think Ed has reached bottom, but we have to remember Ed is living in the Sixties and psychiatric care was much different back then.
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I intended to stay in my bedroom all day long except, of course, I had to leave to go to the bathroom and that was to be the only time I left my bedroom. Syl knocked on my door at around lunch time. I gave her permission to come in. Syl asked if I wanted something for lunch. I told her no because I was still upset about not being employed at the Seventh Heaven Hotel. Syl said I should have at least a sandwich and a glass of milk, but I insisted that I wasn’t going to eat. Then I asked her to lea
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Thanks for the comment. Yes, Syl is definitely not the mother Ed deserved.
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Thanks for the comment. This chapter and the next two could be seen as the lowest point in Ed's life. Syl plays her part quite well, too.
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“Ed, could you come into the den with me?” E3 asked one evening at the dinner table. That was exactly one week after my fiasco at the Induction Center. “Have I done something wrong?” I asked. I had cleaned my dinner plate, finished my apple pie and ice cream, and drank all of my milk, so I didn’t know why I should have to go into the den with E3. “No, I need to talk to you about something I think might be important. You haven’t done anything wrong.” “Oh, okay, then I will join you
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Syl's side of the story was clearer in an earlier version of this story. Then someone suggested not to have multiple POVs and do it first person with Ed telling his story. So we're left with Ed's side of the story with negligible input from Syl. For whatever reason, Syl comes across as not being ready to be a mother when Ed was born and she punishes him for that. Syl's backstory has her born into money in Philadelphia, going to Bryn Mawr, and being a Latin tutor in Manhattan when she meets E3 while he's attending law school at Fordham after the war. She follows him to the Pacific Northwest when he gets a clerkship with the Chief Justice of the Washington Supreme Court.
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Seven weeks after I came home from that rehab place down in Des Moines, I received a letter from the President of the United States. I read the letter at least five times before I realized it was a draft notice. I was supposed to report to the Seattle Armed Forces Induction Center in two weeks with enough clothing for three days. It didn’t say anything about needing money, but I thought that might have been an error and decided to take enough money also for three days. It also said failure to re
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Thanks for the comment. Accepting your mental illness is one thing, being able to successfully live amongst "normal" people is something else entirely as we shall see in future chapters.
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By the seventh day, I was getting tired of being in the hospital. Unfortunately, my left eye was still covered and Dr. O’Brien ordered me to stay in bed to give the optic nerve a chance to properly heal. It was kind of hard getting around with only one eye. I had trouble eating because I had trouble reaching for things. I kept knocking things over. Dr. O’Brien said that was because I don’t have any depth perception from only seeing with one eye. Also, Dr. O’Brien said my right eye wasn’t my domi
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- 12
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Thanks for the comment. We can only hope Ed gets out of this situation with some vision and maybe some money, too.
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An obnoxious bell startled me out of a dream where I was caught in an awful snowstorm while walking down to North Eighty-fifth Street to catch the bus down to Oak Park Boulevard where I could catch the Number 6 bus north to Louis Bergman Alternative High School. It was snowing so hard I couldn’t see where I was and then I heard someone saying, “Good morning, residents, time to rise and meet a glorious new day. Come on, get out of bed, use the toilet, take your showers, shave if you need to, dres
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Thank you for your comment. Yes, Ed had a relatively "normal" day for a crazy person. We can only hope tomorrow will be just as normal.
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The psych ward at County General Hospital was much like the unit at Western State Hospital, except on a smaller scale and there were patients who were adults. There were only ten other patients at the time I was checked in, four women and six men. Unlike at Western State, the men patients were not permitted to talk to the women patients, but one of the women patients, an older woman with very large breasts, a big stomach, and straggly gray hair, named Veronica always talked to me. The only probl
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Thank you for your comment. The important thing to remember about antagonists is they're not created to be likeable.
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Thank you for your comment. I hope you enjoy the ride, but I must warn you it'll be bumpy in a few places.
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Thank you for your comment. Ed certainly isn't having an easy time with life, yet he still seems to keep trying.
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E3 had one of his assistants figure out the bus routes I’d need to take to go from Louis Bergman to Dr. Kaiser’s office and then return home. The school was on Oak Park Boulevard, so to go to Dr. Kaiser’s office all I had to do was walk north on Oak Park Boulevard to North One Hundred Thirtieth Street where I could catch the Boulevard Flyer down to Fifth Avenue and Pike Street in downtown Seattle where I’d transfer to the Number 10 trolley up to Boren Avenue on First Hill. Then it was a three bl
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Thank you for your comment. Uh, yeah, if a reader was paying attention, they might notice we're still operating under the assumption Ed thinks his IQ is 73.
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As he sat in the activity room of the assisted living facility staring at the women playing some kind of card game, Charlie let his mind wander. So many things had gone wrong so quickly, it was quite unnerving that he was actually alive. He tried to think back, not way back toward the beginning because you can’t remember anything that far back, but a little way back, back when his life went to hell. That new doctor down at the clinic, Dr. Jameson, was always saying, “Charlie, you need to ge
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At the time it seemed a good idea, but how it played out nearly cost Charlie his life. He had the big ranch, but his wife had died and all the kids didn't want anything to do with ranching. So he decided to sell and move into the city. Everything was good great until he decided to take that walk in the park. Potluck Theme: Through a Glass Darkly
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