Chapter 10: Linda Loses Her Mind

Linda Loses Her Mind

It was now February 2003, Linda and I were off for what I felt was a much needed vacation and escape to Kauai.

I would love to, at this point, give my readers a tale of a wonderful vacation where we spent every moment expressing our love for each other. Unfortunately, the trip was something completely different.

Even before we left, there was something wrong. Linda was in a foul mood. I learned later that a few hours before we left, Linda had been using. The trip, of course, was not very comfortable. Linda and I were both rather large and airline seats did not fit us very well.

We got to Kauai on a Saturday and drove around to the far side of the island to Hanalei and the condo we were renting. The next morning, we left our condo and went for breakfast at Princeville. They have a wonderful Sunday brunch there. It was (as it normally is) a warm and sunny day. We had a magnificent table overlooking the ocean and the food was wonderful. What I did not take into account was that with the brunch comes all the champagne you can drink. I think Linda must have had two bottles. Most of the time she seemed OK, she was even talking to people at the table next to us and everyone was having a good time.

Without warning, Linda jumped up from the table and ran away. I quickly paid the bill and went to look for my missing wife. It took about 20 minutes before security brought her to me. They found her wandering the halls. She had defecated in her pants and could barely walk.

I put her in the car, and as we started to drive away, she started to throw up, all over the inside of the car and on the street. When we got back to the condo, I put her to bed.

The next few days were better. We made arrangements to go to a luau and on a snorkeling cruise. The luau was wonderful except again Linda managed to drink. The cruise was spectacular, and this time Linda did not drink.

A lot of the trip was wonderful just walking around with my beautiful wife who looked wonderful. Linda was a big girl, but she had a classical beauty about her. Most places we went, she wore her bikini which consisted of a bikini top for her 44 DDD’s and a mini skirt bottom. I was not the only one that thought Linda looked good; several women came up to her and told her how nice she looked, and how they wished they had the courage to wear something like that. That made Linda feel pretty good.

One afternoon I had a headache, but Linda wanted to go to a botanical garden nearby. I gave her the credit card and told her to have a good time but go to only the garden. When Linda got back, she told me that the garden was closed and she stopped at a shop and got me a T-shirt.

I was upset by this and felt this was a betrayal. We were trying to do this trip spending as little as possible. We had already gotten a dress for Linda and a Hawaiian shirt for me. I had asked her to use the card only at the garden. I told her the shirt had to be taken back.

The next day we dropped by the store. Linda was embarrassed and wanted me to wait outside while she returned the shirt. It took a long time but when she came out the shirt was gone. What I did not know was that Linda had purchased $500.00 in jewelry just to punish me. I discovered that part of it when I got home from the trip and saw the credit card bill, or maybe they were dealing inside the shop?

Once we got home on March 3rd, 2003, Linda was back to doing drugs.

While we were out of town Linda’s friend Betty stayed at our house, and took care of Dakota (our dog). After she was done at our house she house-sat for some other friends of ours: David and Wilma.

Since Betty was now just a few minutes away, Linda tried to spend a lot of time with her. Instead of Betty making us dinner, I ran out to get it. While I was gone, Linda went on a binge. She found David and Wilma’s liquor cabinet and emptied a large portion of it. She raided their medicine chest, taking any Vicodin they had. Finally she ended up throwing up all over their bed and passing out. All of this before I got back with the sandwiches.

After a while, Linda was sober enough to walk to the car and we drove home. At home, Linda was ashamed of herself and announced that she needed to go into in-patient treatment.

I was not going to let this opportunity pass. I got online and searched for places near us that our insurance covered and that handled both drug addiction and mental illness or what they call dual diagnoses.

Linda and I finally settled on a place, only 45 minutes from us.

The next morning March 10th we called and made arrangements for Linda to enter their program that day. We took Linda to the emergency room of the hospital that was associated with this program and they took her medical history, including the medications she was on, and ran some tests.

One of the medications she was taking was called Klonopin (a form of valium). This med is highly addictive, and one of the few meds that withdrawal from can kill you. Linda had been trying to get off it for years cutting herself back slowly, then if her depression got too bad, increasing her dose (self-medicating). When she entered the program, they told her that she would have to be taken off all her meds during the six weeks she was going to be in their program.

Linda spent the first night in the hospital and then was moved to the treatment center the next day.

While Linda was there, I was only allowed to see her on weekends and Thursday nights (if I came to a class they were giving Thursday nights for families of addicts). I drove up to see her every chance I got, and went to their class. On Saturday, I went to an Al-anon meeting near my house. At both the class and the meeting, the one thing that was made clear to me (again) was that the only real choice I had was when I was going to leave the relationship.

During the first week of Linda’s stay, I dropped by David and Wilma’s to see Betty and Linda’s friend from Astoria, Wilma. We made a video of Betty and Wilma each encouraging Linda to get better. Then Betty and I went to the liquor store to replenish the booze that Linda had misappropriated, and to the cleaners to have the bedding cleaned.

Betty and I went to dinner. While we were there Linda called me on the cell phone upset about the way she was being treated, telling me that she had not slept since she had gotten there. She said that the staff would not listen to her and that a priest would come and talk to her, telling her that he was in charge of the program and she had to do what she was told.

Like a parent with a child who does not want to take their medicine, I listened to Linda’s complaints. I made suggestions about how to deal with them, but I did not offer to do the one thing that Linda obviously wanted, and that was to take her out of there.

Finally, Linda hung up.

The next day was Thursday and I visited Linda. She seemed much better and the video I brought with me cheered her up. Over the weekend Linda was still complaining about how hard it was there. She said she was not getting any sleep and that she was missing some classes because she was so tired.

I spent my time while Linda was out of reach working on our wedding album. Linda was always upset that we never got one. The pictures my parents had given us were too, as she put it, large for an album. I got software since we had all the pictures digitally and started working on the album to give myself something to do for her.

The next Thursday was much of the same.

Friday morning March 18th, 2003, I got a call from the treatment center. They were sorry, but Linda was going to be discharged. She had not been going to classes, she was not doing her homework, and she had touched a fellow patient without permission. They had done a psych review and felt her problems were behavioral not psychological. I did not care what was causing the problems, I only wanted them fixed. But Linda was out.

I left work and drove up to get her. When I got to the treatment center, I could tell something was very, very wrong. Linda was moving in slow motion, unable to make decisions. She was shocked that I had gotten there in only a few minutes. The staff told her that I was coming to get her before they called me, so in real time it had been over an hour but to Linda’s mind it was less than a minute.

She told me that she had lost her wedding ring gambling. I went to the nurse in charge and she told me that during one of the sessions, Linda had given the ring to one of the patients for safe keeping, and that that patient had given it to the staff. The nurse then returned the ring to me.

Linda could not do simple tasks. I had to pack the few items she had with her and I took her to the car.

When we got married, each guest received a wedding favor consisting of a small box with two chocolates from a local chocolatier. On the outside of the box was Linda’s and my name with the date we were married. I kept one of these boxes in my car where I could see it. When Linda saw the box, she reached out, grabbed it and tore it into pieces.

On the way home she seemed like she was a million miles away, not talking, just staring, not even moving. Until we came upon some road construction; then she became scared, convinced that it was the police come to arrest her.

At home, I put Linda to bed. Then I called her drug counselor at the mental health clinic. I explained what had happened and wanted to know where to put Linda next. They told me of a program on the other side of the state. They said they would make arrangements to have me commit Linda to that program.

They also told me something that I did not understand at the time. “If Linda’s condition gets worse, take her to the Emergency Room and tell them she needs to be in Station Two.” I found out later that “Station Two” is the psych ward for our hospital.

I then laid down with Linda. She held me and cried. She was scared that “they” were watching us and pulled the covers over our heads. She told me later that under the covers we got married again. All I knew was that I was holding the woman I loved, terrified it would be the last time and that she would never forgive me for having her committed.

As time passed, Linda was getting worse and worse. She started talking about going to an AA meeting.

“We need to go to the AA meeting at 7, AA meeting at 7, at the hospital, the hospital.”

“But Linda, there is no AA meeting at the hospital tonight.”

“At 7 at 7 at the hospital we need to go to the hospital at 7 AA.”

This went on for some time. I think somewhere deep inside of my love, there was a small part of her that knew she was in trouble, and needed to get to the hospital and was trying to speak out.

I did not understand at first, and it took a while for it to become clear to me. Before Linda and I had been married she asked me to promise her something: that I would never have her put in a psych hospital. Now I knew I had no choice. I got her in the car, and I told her that I was taking her to the hospital.

She said, “To the AA meeting at 7, 7.”

I also asked her to please forgive me.

In the parking lot I had to direct Linda to the ER. She used to work there and she knew where the meeting rooms were so I had to tell her that the meeting was in the ER and she came.

At the counter, I told the person on duty what had been going on and that the people from the mental health clinic had told me that she needed to be in Station Two. They took Linda’s vital signs and found that her blood pressure was 230 over 182. Seeing the condition she was in, and hearing how quickly she was deteriorating, they sent an orderly with a wheelchair. At first he tried to take Linda, and leave me in the waiting room, but the nurse told him that Linda would be calmer if I were with her.

They rolled us back to the psych department of the Emergency Room. Six rooms were behind a locked door, and each had a lock on the door. In each room there was a table bolted to the wall with no mattress. That was used as a bed and a stool was attached to the floor. On the ceiling, high enough so no one could reach it, was a TV camera and microphone. There was nothing in this room that could be moved except for a blanket and pillow.

By this point, Linda had lost the ability to form sentences. She tried to speak but all that came out were random words, unless she was guided. I found that Linda could still repeat words, so I tried the only thing I could think of, praying. I led Linda through a prayer repeatedly, hoping to find a way to reach her quickly receding mind.

“Oh noble soul, apply yourself to the exercise of love, and adorn yourself in the light of truth, so no darkness can assail you, but you may consort with your beloved, according to the law of love.”

I had meditated on this prayer thirty minutes a day for years, and I brought it out now. We repeated it over and over until Linda started laughing a malicious laugh. It was like she was possessed.

A few hours later, Linda had had enough and decided that she was going to leave. The door to her room was still open and she started to walk out. I stood in front of her to stop her and she reached up for my throat and started strangling me. My first reaction was to struggle, so I grabbed her arms and tried to pull them away, but the harder I pulled the harder she hung on. I just dropped my arms. I think that confused her. Outside, I could hear people running around, but no one came to my rescue. I finally got Linda to sit back down when six people rushed in and gave her a shot. I do not know what it was, but she went to sleep.

After sitting next to my sleeping wife for some time in a locked psych room, I finally had to lay down on the floor and go to sleep myself. A few hours later, I found that Linda’s sleep had done her some good. She could now speak. She was still saying random words but she was able to communicate thoughts between them.

I was exhausted and did not know what was going to happen next. We had been there for ten hours and basically, no one had done anything. I spoke to the nurse on duty and asked if it would be all right if I got some breakfast. I had not eaten in 24 hours.

While I was gone, a social worker visited Linda and found her almost recovered. When I got back, Linda told me that someone from the “Sheriff” had been there and talked to her.

The social worker, who was in no way connected with the sheriff, then came in and spoke to us. She wanted to know whether it would be OK if Linda went home. I was shocked by the question. No one had bothered to explain to me what was going on, why my wife was acting this way. Just, she can talk now, so will you take her?

I told the social worker I was afraid to take her home. While we were talking, Linda got much worse. It might have been that after her sleep she was able to do better for a short time. It might have been that when I was gone she did not feel safe and fought and when I came back she felt safe, she relaxed and the problem came back as well. But the social worker could now see clearly that there was a problem.

It was decided to put Linda on a 72-hour psych hold. Unfortunately, there were no beds available in the normal psych unit, so they had to put Linda in a standard room. I accompanied them as they rolled her up to a normal room and Linda became manic and started talking gibberish. There was no way she could stay in a room with another patient, unless that patient was deaf.

So they transferred her to an isolation room with one bed in it. Once Linda was in her room, she could calm down and get some sleep. I spoke to the nurse and she told me that Linda was having a psychotic break. I told her that I had to run home for a short time. I needed to take care of our animals and call our family to let them know what was going on. The nurse told me that it would be OK, part of Linda’s orders were that she was not to be left alone, so a nurse would be with her 24 hours a day until they could get her to the psych ward.

At home, I let Dakota out and had lunch. I called my family and let them know what was going on. I also called Linda’s family.

That afternoon I spent just sitting with Linda. My parents did call to let me know that they were sending one of my sisters up to help and she would arrive the next day.

Linda’s sisters called; they wanted to make certain that I was aware of some of Linda’s history, about her having a daughter and several abortions. They were concerned that Linda might not have told me these things. They were in shock. They had no idea of Linda’s problems or that she had been using drugs. As far as they knew we had the perfect marriage, and Linda was still working for the hospital, a job that she had left more than two years before. One of her sisters did say that she should have known that something was wrong, because Linda never complained about her job.

That night Linda became angry with me. I do not remember what it was about, but I do remember Linda telling me that she never wanted to see me again. I decided to make a retreat and went home. Before I left, I made certain that the nurse had my phone number.

I was not home long when the phone rang. It was Linda. She was in tears.

“Odell, I am sorry, I do not know what I have done, but they say I can’t stay here. They are moving me. I am so sorry, I do not know what I did.”

“It’s OK baby. Let me talk to the nurse.”

“Hello, Mr. Hathaway.”

“Yes, can you tell me what is going on?”

“Yes, Linda did not do anything wrong. The room we have her in is an isolation room for patients with infectious diseases. We have a patient who needs this room, so we have to move her to a new room. Can you come and help calm her?”

“I see; I will be there in about 10 minutes. Can I talk to Linda?”

“Odell, I do not know what I did. I am so sorry!”

“It’s OK baby, I am going to take care of it. You do what the nurse tells you to, and I will be there as quickly as I can. Linda, I love you!”

Fortunately, we live a few blocks from the hospital and I was in her new room within ten minutes. As far as I could see, instead of punishing her they had upgraded her. The new room was a suite, with not only a bed but a sitting area with a couch, and instead of the normal bedside chair, there was a recliner.

I spent the rest of that night sleeping in that recliner holding the hand of the woman I loved. At least, I tried to sleep. My snoring was so bad that the nurse kept waking me and telling me to stop, as the other patients on the ward could not sleep.

The next day saw some improvement in Linda’s condition and some decline. She was still angry and wanted her freedom restored. She hated the fact that she was now officially a prisoner locked up by the state for 72 hours and that time would not start until they got her to the psych ward.

She had developed two very irritating habits. The first was snapping her fingers when she spoke as a way of emphasizing what she was saying, and giving orders. I mean, she snapped with almost every word that came out of her mouth. The other was that she had started humming a tune almost constantly when she was not speaking.

Linda did not know what tune it was, but she kept going on and on. Finally I had to call my father who is good with songs and he told us that it was the “Baby Elephant Waltz.” Linda had no idea where she had heard it, but now she could not stop humming it.

Linda’s anger ebbed and flowed, one moment quiet and the next she was attacking a helpless box of Kleenex and tearing it to shreds. I felt so sorry for the poor nurses who were assigned to watch her. Linda was so abusive to them.

When my sister got there, it seemed to calm Linda down. That night the four of us, Linda, my sister, the nurse and myself, all watched the Academy Awards. I spent that night sleeping by my wife’s side in the recliner.

The next morning was Monday, and I had to go to work for at least a little while. I had used up almost all my sick time and there were things I was needed for. Beth, my sister, stayed with Linda that morning until Linda was loaded into an ambulance and transferred the few miles to the hospital psych ward across town.

My sister then returned home.

The psych ward had daily visiting hours at 6:00pm on weekdays and 2:00pm on weekends. I was standing in front of the locked door being viewed by a TV camera at 6:00 that night.

Linda was much worse than when I had seen her before, and I soon found out the reason. Linda had made friends with one of the other patients in the ward and the person was telling Linda that she was Linda’s daughter.

Clearly, this person was not, but Linda believed it and this was agitating her. Her behavior was so bad that the nurses had put Linda into the high risk room. This room was right off the nurse’s station with a window that from the nurse’s station looked into the room with no blinds, and two TV cameras watching and recording. There was no moveable furniture and a bed with restraints built into it. It was scary just to look at, and to think of the woman you love having to spend even one night there was beyond belief.

Linda showed me around. She seemed to accept that she needed to be there.

On my way out I told the staff about the lady telling Linda that she was her daughter and they said they would do something about it.

Tuesday when I saw her she had calmed down a lot. It might have been the meds but I think it was something more. Something had died in my “Beautiful Cutieful,” something that would never be seen again. There was a spark that was missing; an intelligence that was gone.

We sat and talked but she wanted to sleep, so I took her to her room. She had been moved out of the high-risk room. I put her to bed and I did a guided relaxation to help her fall asleep.

On my way out I was told that at 10:00 a.m. there would be a court hearing to decide what should happen to Linda next.

Before 10:00 a.m. I was back in the ward dressed in my best suit. I met the lawyer who had been assigned to Linda and we spoke with Linda’s doctor, the only time I ever spoke with him. We were given three options:

Linda could be released.

She could commit herself to the hospital for 14 days.

Finally, they could issue a court order committing her for 14 days, that was the longest this facility would hold a patient.

Linda was a slow but active participant in these discussions. The doctor thought Linda needed to remain to have her meds adjusted, and that it would be a mistake for her to leave. It would also be a mistake to give Linda the ability to leave whenever she wanted, which is what she would have if she committed herself.

It was decided that Linda should be committed for the full 14 days. The doctor told us that he could release Linda sooner, and felt he would as she got better, but it was best to have the full time available. The hearing was simple enough and everything was as we had agreed.

The only part of this hearing that disturbed me and will disturb me as long as I live was that as I was leaving, the judge came over and thanked me for being there for Linda. Frankly, I was shocked. I thought this was such a comment on the state of our society. Was it so unusual for families to care about each other, and be there for each other, that the judge would notice and thank me? I am certain that the fact that so many families do not care is why Station Two is so full.

Outside, the U.S. was preparing for war, but inside few of us cared enough about each other to be there when we were needed. Are we that dependent on government, are we no longer humans? Have we lost the ability to love anyone but ourselves?

Linda spent the next two weeks in their care. I went to see her every day. We walked, we talked, we held hands, but this person was not my Linda, she was gone.

As the two weeks came to a close, Linda and I had a meeting with one of the nurses. She told us that Linda was not improving as they had hoped, and that if they could they would extend her stay. But their facility only held people for two weeks and that we now had a choice: either take Linda home or transfer her to a state facility three hours away.

We asked the nurse what she thought we should do. She told us that Linda needed me and that being that far away would make things worse. So, we decided that Linda should come home and enter a program called Hospital Alternative Services (HAS). Linda would go there each morning and return each night. They would dispense Linda’s meds and she would see a doctor almost every day. It was like being in the ward except she would now sleep in her own bed.

The day before she was released, I got a cake from the bakery we got our wedding cake from, with their special wedding cake frosting. It said, “Welcome Home!” I went to the store and got Welcome Home balloons and a big banner that said Welcome Home. I put the banner up in Linda’s bedroom, so she could see it.

Next: Chapter 11 – Linda Comes Home

Previous: Chapter 09 – Linda Starts Using

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