Page 56 of Actions and Reactions
“There are some forms for you to sign, Silas,” she says in a melodic voice that does help my nerves buzz a little less. I see a standard NDA, but read through it quickly anyway. I know better than to sign just any damn thing, and then there’s the admission protocol where all the rules are.
I read through those too, and while I do, I’m aware of her talking to my parents and sister, answering their questions, but I focus on the words on the page.
No harmful items like drugs, alcohol, or weapons, which is easy enough. No tweezers or razors even, but I guess I can relax and let my beard grow. I’ve never tried that before.
I’m allowed to bring in my own pajamas, underwear, shoes and socks, and outerwear—since winter isapproaching—but I have to wear the uniform when I’m outside my room. Five sets will be provided for me according to this.
I have to do my own laundry, of course, and keep my room clean.
There are shared bathrooms, which could become an issue.
Besides clothing, as far as personal items go I can have four hygiene products, all the books I want, a watch, and two framed pictures.
If I show signs of self-harm they can basically restrain me and throw me in a cell—yippee—and I’m expected to never be violent with other patients. No threats, no intimidation, no other forms of abuse.
I’m expected to attend and participate in group therapy sessions and individual ones, and to take the medication they prescribe me, which I’m not super happy about, but I’m already on antibiotics from the surgery and Dr. Denise did tell me they’d probably prescribe me some mild form of antidepressants. When I last talked to her she told me this treatment center will be very careful with the medications they give me, so I’m not too worried there.
Then comes the hard bit... use of electronics. They’ll give me my phone for fifteen minutes every day if I want them to, but will keep it locked up the rest of the time.
If I need to make a call, I can of course do so, but only in case of emergency or if the therapist assigned to me agrees.
Yeah, that’s gonna be tough.
I don’t even know anyone’s number for fuck’s sake.
I sigh, then keep reading.
I’m to always be respectful of the staff, and I’m expected to keep any and all conversations inside the facility in confidence.
If at any moment I want to leave, then I can, but I have to have my emergency contact pick me up. If I finish the three months, then I can stay more time if I want—up to three months more—and if I don’t, then I’m free to leave but will be welcome if and when I need to come back.
Now I have to decide who my emergency contact is. The first name that comes to mind is of course Vinny, but that’s not happening. I can’t bother him with this after everything I’ve already done, so that’s a no-go.
My gut is telling me to choose Lottie, but I’m pretty sure my parents would be heartbroken if I did that, so I pick Mom, then take out my phone to fill in her contact details.
When I’m done, I hesitate for only a few seconds, but I force myself to sign below then write my name and today’s date.
“I’ve asked our staff to pay closer attention since we knew you’d be here, Mr. Wayne. And since this is a tricky situation, one we’ve never been in before, we’ve had to put a few new protocols in place.”
That gets my attention, and I look up to see Dr. Jody, looking somber with her eyes locked on my father’s.
“As far as we’ve been able to learn without telling any of the patients anything, there are two people here who are hockey fans. Since you’ll be participating in the familydays, we decided that the best way to circumvent any possible problems was to give our patients here advanced warning about your presence. Any dramatic changes to their emotional state could be... upsetting for people who are actively working through their traumas, so all we want you to know is that if any of them approach you, please be polite. I understand this might be uncomfortable for you, considering you’re here for your son, but we have to look out for all of our patients.”
I’m extremely impressed by how she phrased that. She clearly doesn’t know how Dad is with fans and wants to avoid offending him, and I’m sure he appreciates it, but Dad’s never been one to get mad at being approached by fans. Unless they’re aggressive, then it’s a whole other story. And this is why I know exactly what he’s going to say next.
“I don’t have any problems talking to fans, Dr. Jody, and I’ll be mindful of being extra polite.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please let me know and we’ll find a way to work around this.”
“We appreciate very much that you’re taking all of this into consideration and letting us be here for Silas,” Mom whispers, looking at the doctor earnestly. It’s kind of a Bambi look, with her big blue eyes wide open. No one can resist it.
“Here you go,” I whisper, trying not to break the moment too harshly, and slide the papers over to Dr. Jody.
“All right,” the director says as she scans the documents. “Family days are on Sunday, and because of your special circumstances,” she adds, looking at Lottie. “If you can’t make it on Sunday, then we’ll allow you to have a family session on Tuesdays.”
“That works,” she says with a firm nod.
“Then it’s time to say goodbye for now, and I’ll show you to your room.”
