Tails of a 17th Street Geisha

So the cops came, Alex and Drea spent hours and hours at the ER in Rockville. They arrived at noon and spent hours waiting, then filling out paper work, then a psychiatric evaluation, and finally a recommendation for her to get acute care and then longer-term residential. 

I finally thought we had success until they told us there were no beds available in treatment facilities in the area. Well, of the facilities who took her insurance.

Only place in the area that accepted her insurance, had a bed available and it was located in Hagerstown, Maryland–2 hours away… They would have an ambulance ready to take sister and Drea up to Hagerstown, but they probably wouldn’t get there until 1 or 2 in the morning. Alex didn’t have a car, didn’t have cash (or a way of getting cash) and would be stranded.  Hagerstown. She also didn’t even have a jacket for the increasingly cold night.

I called the Hagerstown clinic and they told me that they don’t have a waiting room and she would be kicked out after Drea was admitted.

God, this story is already long, but to shorten it some:

I called the Hagerstown clinic screaming that they would have two patients they would be dealing with and not one if my sister went. She would be pulling an all-nighter (for the second or third night in a row after all she went through with Drea earlier in the week and with her own illness on Thursday night)

Hagerstown called Rockville to sort out the fact that my sister, with pulmonary hypertension, was in no condition to commute to Hagerstown and then spend the night OUTSIDE of the hospital. freezing without her coat, tired and sick
Finally, Rockville called me and after yelling, screaming, and crying, I got them to cancel the ambulance, allow niece to stay overnight (with my sister) and then figure out where to go next.

Turns out that by screaming and getting them to wait until the next day, a bed opened up across the street from Rockville hospital!

Relief. Now I wait to see how this week turns out in acute care. If Drea is on good behaviour and doesn’t seem out of control, they may send her home. If she gets worse or shows signs of deep disturbance, they may send her to residential.

She’s been under acute hospital care at least 4 times since November and it seems to be getting worse and worse. I pray that they find residential to be her next step so the cycle ends.

Sunday: I’m in DC with Gianni, meeting my new renter and signing the lease, picking up his deposit check. I get a call from Alex saying that Drea destroyed the living room. She kicked a hole in the wall (again), threw couches over, broke a jar of pickles (I assumed she threw it), and kicked a hole in the couch.

My reaction: FUUUUCK! It’s over. She’s out of the house. She is out of control and is either going to be homeless or put in a psych hospital. I was SOO mad. I told my sister that she’s OUT and my sister starts packing her own bag.

Eventually, she realizes that I’m threatening to make them both homeless to show her that she cannot simply allow Drea to continue going crazy without action, without attempts to get her residential treatment that she so desperately needs. My sister tells Drea directly that she needs to go into residential and Drea tells both her mother and me that she would kill herself before going to “resi.”

 Drea threw my sister’s phone up against the wall and into many pieces and then ran away…

Long story short, I had to call the cops (remotely from Virginia!) and they took Drea to the pysch hospital.

Not sure where to begin, but I’ll start with Thursday night.

Thursday PM: I went to the gym with Gianni and we proceeded to grab dinner nearby in Silver Spring. My 16 year old niece Drea calls me 5 times during our meal (I usually don’t answer as she’s been known to excitedly call me with “urgent news” like “they’re playing Ramones at the Safeway”) Anyway, I finally answer and she tells me that her mother was throwing up, really pale and needed to go to the ER. Gianni and I head over there and take her to the ER, leaving Drea at her bedside.

FRIDAY 4:00 AM: I wake up and find Drea and her boyfriend intertwined on the couch asleep. The boyfriend is banned from the house after we catch the two of them post-sex in her bedroom. I discover from the lovebirds that Alex has pneumonia, needs to be hospitalized for at least 72 hours to recuperate, and that Alex asked boyfriend to bring Drea back home so she could rest.

FRIDAY 4:01 AM: Immediately dawns on my that I am responsible for crazy, out of control, teenager. For the next 72 hours. I start ordering her around (mistake) and telling her that she needs to sleep in her bed separate from her boyfriend, that her boyfriend can only stay for a couple of hours, and that she has to listen to me or else! She flips out and the fighting begins.

Friday 5:00 AM: After a tug of war over her cell phone (which I took to discipline her) she kicks a hole in the hallway and I threaten to kick her out of the house. I threaten to change the locks and I tell her that she needs to be committed. She runs away and I call the cops. Her mom sleeps peacefully at the Emergency Room getting her illness treated. Cops come and I give them a description of her, they let me know that if she turns back to the house, they can take her to get psychiatric evaluation.

 Friday ALL DAY LONG: I sort shit out:

1. I wait at my house for her to show up.
2. I wait for the building guys to change the locks.
3.  I get advice from my coworkers mom, who has experience with a troubled teen–coworkers mom says that all agencies (school system, childcare protection, etc.,) are passing the buck and not wanting to refer because whoever does, has to incur the expense of residential treatment $$$.
4. I talk to the social worker for the county Child Protection Services–she tells me that she can’t help because my sister is not abusive or negligant. She also recommends throwing the onus on the school system.

Eventually, I have to leave to show my condo to prospective renters. I set these appointments up on Tuesday and I had t-minus 5 days before current renters move!

Alex ends up not having pneumonia-the local docs read the EKG incorrectly and didn’t take into consideration that with her disease, pulmonary hypertension, the EKG is going to be all screwed up. So Alex gets discharged on Friday afternoon while I’m in the city showing apartment.

Drea shows up and Alex calls the cops to say that she’s returned. On Friday night she tells me that she’s too tired to go through another 12-24 hours at the ER getting Drea evaluated, so she lets the cops go. Over the weekend she tells me that they won’t send her to the “Operation Runaway” services at Potomac Ridge in Rockville (this is what they told me would happen on Friday morning)

Saturday AM/PM: I’m showing my apartment, so I just stay in the city. Not sure what’s going on in the home, but things seemed to have settled down.

Sunday AM: this is when shit hits the fan… part 2 coming up.

Sister is hospitalized with pneumonia

Drea kicked the wall and ran away from home because I took her phone away from punishment for not sleeping in her bed (she wanted to sleep with her boyfriend on the couch… NOT APPROPRIATE)

I injured myself and can’t get a good sweat-inducing workout.

I don’t want to be in my home! I would rather live out of my backpack (which I was doing blissfully for 3 weeks recently) than be here to reprimand niece, clean up house, encourage my sister to take her meds (both pulmonary AND depression meds)… it’s too much for me to bear.

I’m slowly but surely unravelling.

I need the following things:

• a hand massage, perhaps even a full body massage… happy ending optional, but preferred (depending upon masseuse)
• my niece to be taken care of 24/7 by a team of psychiatric and behavioural consellors
• more money
• an intense workout, 2-3 hours, not including pool/sauna time
• more sleep
• some strawberries, apples, nuts and cheese (Jaleo!)
• a nice, long shag
• and while I’m writing things down, a mani/pedi/hot-stone massage

That’s about it. I mean, I’m not REALLY asking for much, am I?

I’m sad for my sweet sister Alex, who is suffering with an incurable and very serious heart and lung disease (pulmonary hypertension) AND… dealing with a very deep depression and hideous life circumstances

I’m sad for her daughter, my sweet little niece, who is constantly threatening to run away from home and who is deeply unhappy (also diagnosed bipolar, among other issues)

I’m sad for myself, because I can’t think of one person I want to talk to about it, and would rather write a couple of words than to think any more about it than I have to.

I’m sad for my damned cat saffron. I’m going to get her balls chopped off soon and she ain’t going to be happy.

I’m an addict.

I get easily attached to things. Eating, drinking, partying, dancing, f’ing, working… I’m hard wired to latch on to things and I’m totally aware of it. My boss loves my work addiction–I’m here 60-80 hours/week on good weeks (er, bad weeks?) The only time I’ve gotten into trouble is alcohol and I’ve had to quit drinking after a terrible ordeal at my sister’s wedding (4 years June!)  I still swear that these guys slipped roofies in my drank.

ANYWAY… back to my point:

I’ve recently I’ve gotten back into working out like an addict. That’s a good thing, right?  Better than my summer of love… anywho, I have been going daily for the last 3 weeks. Every now and then I’ll go twice in a day.

I’ve had this addiction come in waves. The only thing to break it is injury, illness or travel (and no access to gym… work travel with hotels keep it going)

Right now I’m praying that I don’t repeat my gym addiction mistakes of the past: wearing out my knees running, destroying my wrists with weights, jacking my foot on other cardio…

How can I moderate this? I’m down in the dumps when I’m not working out and I’ve been on a constant  endorphin flow for the last 3 weeks.

I wish I was addicted to NOT eating! Naw, I wonder what I could become addicted to that would actually be healthy?

Addicted to saving money?

Addicted to helping others?

As if those addictions exist!

I would rather go to bed early than party at a club where a world-class FAMOUS DJ is spinning!

I would rather go to bed early so that I can wake up early on Sunday and get a good workout in, instead of staying up til 4am dancing with Carl Cox bangin out beats?!

I have a ride to the club and a VIP (no cover) hookup…

So I have NO REASON to stay at home.

And here I sit. Typing into this stupid blog.

What is my problem?

I’m old. I think I might be coming down with a cold and I would rather rest up than risk getting too sick to go to work. I would rather not have work pile up on me. I would rather catch up on sleep than struggle through a week of work.

I feel like an old lady!

And while I’m complaining like one, let me add to this:

I’m going to end up a spinster! I don’t care. I am not going to settle down  with someone just because I’m 31. There. I said it! I’m 31 years old! That doesn’t mean I’m going to compromise my needs.

I’m having an pre-mid-life crisis. Basically.

More complaints: I lift weights until I can’t move my wrists, I run until my knees are worn down, and I do cardio until my face turns red and then turns white… and I still don’t lose weight!

My life doesn’t suck, but boy am I frustrated.

Gotta think about the good things in life and not let the sucky shit bring me down. I think I’m just sexually frustrated… I’ll leave it at that.

I don’t mind helping my sister and her daughter, but sometimes it gets to be too much.

I used to live a simple life, one focused on myself. I made a choice NOT to have children so that I could live independently, alone…

Now that my sister divorced and ended up on my doorstep (otherwise homeless) I am in this situation where they are ALWAYS at home.  They’ve lived with me for the last 6 months. I moved from the city to the suburbs and the two of them are squished in a one bedroom with me (it’s what I can afford since I’m supporting the two of them–sister is disabled and can only make $800/month INCLUDING disability support.)

So I work late, I visit friends, I work out, I spend the night @ friends, bootie call whenever possible with ex bfs… just to avoid the house hold that is comprised of my sister (manic depressant, co-dependent, new to the city) and her daughter (bipolar, agressive, ODD, OCD, and all that… and who attempts to drop out of school as often as possible) 

My sister and niece are beautiful, lovely people, but sometimes I need to be alone. I just wish I had my old life back sometimes.

I’m remembering my old life now… clubbing, new shoes, trips to NYC, new gadgets, bootie calls at MY HOUSE, not worrying about 16 year olds running away from home, not being called a bitch or being told to fuck off at the drop of the hat, not walking on egg shells for fear of starting another emotional outburst from aforementioned 16 year old, only having to pay for MY own medical bills and not for the bills of 2 other people who go to ERs at least 4 times a month.

There are some GREAT things about my life now though:

• I’m never alone at home
• my sister and niece are wonderful people with energy and life, they get me out of the house sometimes (with or without them!)
• I’ve learned how to budget my money WAY more effectively now
• I’ve learned how to stretch my salary across 3 people now
• I own a cat
• I see the value of a car
• My sister and niece are not homeless
• My sister and neice have a much better life and more stable home environment–probably helping with their mental health more

For now, I’m writing to you from my office where I continue to work late, multitask and get a lot of work done!

“they laid off my entire marketing department!”

“I’ve been looking for a job for months”

“I just lost my job, and by the sight of things here, I’m going to have a LOT of competition. Maybe I’ll go work abroad, Peace Corps or something”

I represented my organization at a job fair on Friday at the Wash, DC convention center. I have never seen a bigger mob scene at a job fair in all my years (since 1999) of recruiting and hiring for jobs/internships.

I can’t put a number on the amount of people who were there, but our table is usually not the popular because people don’t recognize the cause (pulmonary hypertension IS a rare illness)

On Friday, I felt like we were that National Organization for Women at a feminist career fair–I couldn’t leave the table for the five hours I was there, it would have felt like leaving my coworker to the wolves (the fair was only 3 hours long and people showed up en masse an hour before and were still pouring in an hour afterwards.) Between the two of us, we collected about 150 resumes from people age 25-40, all interested in the 3 entry level positions we had available.

It was discouraging to see the people with 20-30 years of experience express sincere (and great) interest in entry-level positions.

“I’ll take anything” One woman said as she threw her resume in my face and ran to the next table.

I WAS considering nursing school down the road, but I especially LOVE LOVE LOVE my current job and now I LOVE it even more considering the fact that jobs are far and few in between.

Especially now that I see the throngs of desperate job seekers swarming around entry-level jobs…

I’m going to be career-squatting and hanging on to this great job that I love!!!