// the scariest day, 6-26-03, part 1
| 06/27/2003 - 10:19 a.m. |

4pm--What to even say. Perhaps the most horrifyingly humiliating experience of my life. Having the fucking COPS called, subjected to a 5150 evaluation that I hardly escaped, if there is even a difference to be made in being escorted by cop and evaluator to take myself "voluntarily" to the ER. Where of course I have done nothing, had no "treatment" for 1 1/2 hours so far.

Davis is a two-faced liar. I stayed in that room because she said she was calling to consult with a colleague. Even though every instinct told me to run.

And I haven't walked out of here either, even though my little shadow has left now--because I gave my word.

Me and my value of honesty and integrity--never seems to serve me any damn service but to bring about the exact sorts of circumstances I least want.

McR. told me I was delusional this morning. I suppose I am if I expect people, my so-called helpers, to treat me with any sort of respect and truthfulness.

And D., yeah she can bite me too. Love? Are you for real? You can ALL take your professional concern and shove it. There is no love in lying, being sneaky, and certainly not in the humiliation I've been put through.

Dear sweet J. is in TX but got husband to call and track me down. Very sweet.

I had to tell my mom I haven't been eating by calling from an ER pay phone. Nice.

I knew I should have brought my Tweety with me to my appt with Davis today :( :( :(

Still waiting. Nope haven't gone into shock or dropped dead yet. Amazing.

My composure astounds me. I cried some, was ever so slightly hysterical, but managed to keep myself amazingly reined in. And I've been pretty damn calm now for nearly 2 hrs.

Continue to feel numb regarding what I possibly found out about Colleen McAdam yesterday. Googled her after reading more of my old journals and found her name listed as deceased in a MD church bulletin. Still no luck in finding an obit or any other info. Intellectually, I feel sad about the possibility. Is the lack of emotion or intensity the function of not having been close or even in contact for quite a long time really? Or my general apathy, lack of heart, lack of reaction to past deaths, inhumanity, etc., whatever?

4:37pm--Dude, the doctor I'm fucking waiting for? About to tape a goddamn tv interview spot on health problems due to the heat. Fabfuckingtastic.

Why am I all-around so damn calm anyway? Things are spinning so completely out of control, so hatefully out of MY control. I have NO FUCKING IDEA what I'm going to do (next) and I hardly even have any thoughts about it. Bad things are happening, things I SO do not want and will likely continue to. And I feel practically no push or motivation or anxiety to really consider it all, consider these consequences, try to formulate ANY kind of plan, nothing.

What in the world makes me think ever in a zillion years D. might come walking through those doors??? Grrrr. Now that sorta-hope IS delusional. *roll*

Its almost 5. Damn, I despise this bullshit.

Went out for a smoke. Doc disappeared after his tv gig, no sign of him. What crap. I'm supposedly so dehydrated, yet no one has even offered me a drink of water. No one is paying the least bit of attention to me, in such deathly danger I am. I think the doc just walked past, didn't so much as glance at me. Did I mention what bs this is? Oh my, a nurse deigned to ask "And how are you doing?", with a nice little patronizing sqeeze of my shoulder. Great. Waiting. I'm wonderful.

And if one more person asks why I was fasting.
Why the fuck not?
Oh yeah, this insanity. *roll*

No one fucking GETS anything.

Certainly don't remotely acknowledge the moral reprehensibility of coercion. I hate everyone.
Especially goddamn doctors.

5:30pm--Oh, never mind. The doc whose name is on my bracelet (red! lol) isn't the one who finally came and talked to me and apparently had spoke to Davis earlier. He was going to talk to her again (BAH!) and I've moved out of the damn hallway into a little curtain enclosed cubicle. Not putting on a damn gown. Supposedly, they're going to run blood tests and give me an IV--ughhh. Bloat me like a damn whale likely. As long as I don't have to be admitted!!!

The lady next to me couldn't even comprehend the concept of rating her pain on a scale of 1-10. But, really, who cares, at least she has her son with her, someone who cares. I, as usual, have no one.

I want my tweety :(

6pm--Hmm, well the dude who apparently really freaked Davis out talking about some girl who died is actually not all that bad. Said a 5150 would not have been appropriate. No shit. Thought an admission would be rather hard to justify. No shit. I'm still probably going to be a while, these places are always slow as mollasses. At least I've got warm blankets now.

6:20pm--Blood taken. Nurse guy coming back with IV. *sigh*

I can't fucking believe this day. And why the fuck did I call my mom earlier?! Who I haven't been able to call back in hours now btw, poor thing. Oh, I'm sure someone else would have pretty damn soon, but eck. I've got an unfortunate talent for adding to the melodrama I hate so much.

6:53pm--IVs in. "Cool" doc let me go outside with it for smoke. Called mom again. She was at Ruehlings, oh surprise. Alone at the bar. Well at least she's not alone in the ER, hah. So now I've got to let this bag full of salt H2O (ICK!) drip in and wait for the blood tests to come back. And *hopefully* get the fuck out of here in the next hour or so.

Oh, they haven't once taken my BP standing up. Dur.

Madness.