Chapter 2: Chapter 1-1 Book 3
Chapter 1-1
Trapped
Part 2
Thursday and Friday I wasn't any better. I had barely been up to do homework or taking the two tests. Grandma called every day, asking the Rothwells how I was doing. Only to tell her I had made a minor improvement. Even sleeping was becoming an issue. I still tossed and turned almost every night. Shane too was exhausted and had to nap on the couch whenever given the chance. I felt trapped, confined to my room, and Mom had to wait on me. Dad and Shane had to carry me back and forth from the bathroom to the bedroom every few hours to prevent me from falling on my face while I was getting weaker from the lack of sleep and not being able to keep anything other than fluids down.
By Friday afternoon, Dad and Mom took me to the doctor to see if it was more than just terrible stomach flu, only to have me spend the weekend and a few more days in the hospital, from sleep deprivation and dehydration issues. I hated needles, but they knew if they wanted a fight I was always in the mood, well except this time. I could barely move enough to harm a fly.
I was getting so bad that Shane or Dad had to climb into the tub with me to bathe me. As weak as I was, I could barely sit up long enough to bathe myself. The shower was worse than being a limp washrag. Mom had bathed me in bed enough times during the week when Shane or Dad wasn't home, but the fever lessened more in the tub for longer periods and Mom couldn't carry me on her own. It was like being trapped in your body and not being able to move it.
I screamed, watching the needle go in my arm. They always say it is just a little poke. Yeah right, when the needle looked to be twelve inches long when they drilled for oil, only to do it again to the other arm so they could run an I.V. I hated hospitals, but not getting better was worse. Mom and Dad kissed me goodnight as the nurses put me to sleep the easy way. When I woke, I was in my favorite suite checking to see if my name was above my bed. The first thing I noticed was that someone had removed all my clothes again. Shane and I believe the nurses wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, it wasn't like I needed them at the moment.
It wasn't long before my family came in, Shane setting down his stuff on the other bed. Mom took her seat next to me and Dad took the other. I could see they had bad news the way Mom looked at me. I groaned a little. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear it. Mom squeezed my hand. Telling me that the problem was the tranquilizers and the sleeping drugs. In some ways, I wasn't surprised. I nodded said. "So, they are just going to increase them. No big deals, right?"
Mom squeezed my hand and shook her head. "No, son, that's what making you so sick." I wanted to cry, and I wanted to laugh, but instead, I lay there stunned. "You are going to have to learn to sleep without them, son."
I knew it was not possible; well I thought it wasn't possible. Yet, in some ways, I knew deep down that she was right. Sometimes they just don't work, and they have stopped working almost completely. When I went home, not even the tranquilizers were working as they should have. I nodded that I understood and asked the magic question of how long I'd be here in the hospital. Mom was silent for the longest time. Dad was the one who answered it and said. "As long as it takes for you to sleep without them or a night-terror that requires you not to be tranquilized."
I wanted to argue that it could be a long time. Thinking of all the things I would be missing, all the things I had worked hard for. I could see the trophies and the prizes slipping through my fingers. I couldn't let go, not now, not after working so hard, I said. "No Dad, I can't. How will I be able to defend myself from my father? If I miss too many practices, they won't let me compete."
Dad said I was jumping the gun a bit, but it really wouldn't be the end of the world if that happened, and there is always next year. Telling me I had already beaten my father several times over, with barely a fight. Mom held me in her arms while I was crying. "I am letting everyone down if I just quit, Mom."
Mom said I had nothing to prove to anyone, not my mother, not to Grandma, and most of all to her and Dad. Dad hugged me, telling me he loved me, regardless. If I didn't win ribbons or trophies, he would always be proud of me. Mom kissed my cheek and said there was nothing more important than me. A ribbon was just a ribbon, and a trophy was just another trophy, but a son like me is worth a lifetime of those things glittering in a case. But Dad was right, I was jumping off the bridge too soon. I needed to get well first.
Mom called my caseworker to notify her of what the doctor said according to the test and the fact I would be missing school and would require a teacher to homeschool me so I wouldn't fall behind. When you can't sleep or go down deep enough, it could really do a number on your body. When you sleep, it fixes you and makes you strong and able to fight viruses, but if you don't, you get sick quickly and simple things become challenging. For me, I needed to learn how to sleep, or I wouldn't be able to function.
Normally they could have just sent me home after re-hydrating me, but it was my night-terrors that were the issue. Sure, Dad and Shane could strap me down each night, but over time that would just make things worse, not better. I needed to be in a controlled environment like a hospital where they could tranquilize me and give me a sleeping aid. Not a powerful tonic that I had been drinking, my body had rejected it and was making me sick instead of helping me. I needed to be able to sleep on my own without it or a small dose to get me started. So once again, I was the guinea pig. Shane and Dad drew straws to whoever got the first night. Shane won, making himself right at home.
Mom and Dad stayed long enough to make sure I was well taken care of, kissing Shane and me goodnight. Saturday is always a busy day at the Rothwells, but having three bad boys made everyone else's chores light. The second time I woke Shane was watching a game with a large, big bag of chips and several cold orange sodas. He passed me a soda and pushed the button telling the nurses I was awake. I knew what they wanted after seeing Shane put a twenty on the dresser. They wanted to dig for oil seeing my posse of large male nurses.
Even in my weakened state, one landed on the floor. Winning Shane six twenty-dollar bills, said: "I always bet on my brother, the Tiger." Showing him a black eye, I had given him the previous night after another bad night, Dad had bruises across his chest and a fat lip trying to hold me down so they could strap me down after the three tranquilizers not working. Dad had them checked this time, and they were at full strength, not the weaker version that was still missing. Afterward, as a treat, I was given a heavy portion of meat and potatoes. Only to have it end up all over me and my bed mixed with orange soda. If I had clothes, they would have been a waste of time.
Shane waved to me as the male nurse picked me up out of bed and laid me in the tub to hose me off, only to spew it all over me, the tub, and him. After that, they increased the I.V. and told Shane when I ran out of water, or the I.V. had emptied to push the button. They were determined to flush me clean, having me to pee like a racehorse every thirty minutes. It was almost midnight by the time I had something solid to stay down long enough and after the fifth I.V. bag.
Shane was used to staying up late with me, but even he had his limit. The nurse said nothing, seeing him in bed with me. When she came back to take my vitals, she hated to wake me and Shane doing her best not to, but Shane and I were light sleepers. His body froze and jerked awake when she moved his arm from around my shoulder. She quickly put it back after she was done, watching me snuggle against him, using his chest as my pillow. They had learned that I did better sleeping that way either with Shane or Dad than alone. Dad and Mom said that it had always been that way and found I had fewer night-terrors when that happened.
The doctor said, well there was nothing wrong about having a parent or a brother or a sister sleeping in the same bed. Said when he was growing up, he slept in the same bed with three brothers and two sisters. Until their parents could afford a bigger house and more beds, but they still found each other in the same bed for many years after that. I knew he knew that I was a foster kid, and they weren't related to me, but relation had nothing to do with love when it comes to family. Something my father will never understand when it comes to family and the love, they have for you since he considers that sleeping with my brother is a crime. After all, neither of us are toddlers.
I was doing better by Monday and was able to walk around a bit in a hospital gown. I hated hospital gowns, having my bare butt poke out because of the I.V. Mom and Dad didn't care, but I did. I asked Mom to call Shane and tell him to bring me several pairs of boxers and my swimsuit. Dad, Mom, and Shane all climbed into the pool with me. I was still a little weak, but the doctor thought it would do me some good. Mom was hoping it would make me feel better, but to be honest I was disappointed that I would miss another swim practice.
Dad had switched shifts with someone at work, so I would never be alone at night during the week. Mom would split her day, so when Dad left to go to work, she would take over until Shane and Jody arrived after school and did chores.
By Wednesday, I had my first really good night's sleep with a small dose of a sleep agent. I was only able to sleep deep enough in my family's arms. If I wasn't, then I would have a night-terror, but I was able to come out of it soon after Dad, Shane, or Mom brought me down. Twice did they have to tranquilize me and strap me down?
By Friday, I was eating well, and sleeping was still sporadic. I couldn't sleep any more than a couple of hours before waking up having bad dreams having to nap several times during the day in a light sleep. Not once did I see our new Bishop, but had seen Brother Nile's, Bishop Lanwall and Brother Sakes. Almost every day for a few hours, Shane and they would swim with me down in the small pool before Dad arrived. Sometimes Mom would join us if she had time but stuck to nights when it came to spending quality time with me and Dad.
I was beginning to think I was trapped here inside the hospital after another weekend. I had missed so much practice; that I was really getting concerned. The nurse's staff found me a piano in the nursing lounge and had the male nurses move it to my room. They even had it tuned up for me, hoping to make me feel better but hurt not seeing my friends and my teammates.
Even my piano teacher came once a day, knowing that it was one thing I could do that didn't drain me as much as my other events. I had fallen nearly injuring myself seriously. When I tried to practice in the small Gym. It took all my strength just to move and only to fall after a series of exercises. The doctor had warned me and my foster parents that I was pushing myself too hard.
I could only swim for one hour twice a day, do homework, and practice the piano the rest of the time I needed to sleep. I hated my room; I hated the hospital more. Even walking outside for an hour was depressing. It seemed I was trapped, and this was my prison. I didn't feel sick; I felt tired and drained. I would argue that I needed to go home. I needed my life back, but all I was allowed was the bear minimum. Telling me when I can sleep four hours, I can do more. When I can sleep six hours, I can do even more, when I can sleep nine to ten hours with no night-terrors, no undisturbed sleep. I can go home. I cried for hours, pounding on my pillow.
They had moved me to a different hospital, not quite a mental hospital where they lock up crazy people. But a place where I didn't need round-the-clock hospital care. It was more like a halfway house that dealt with people who had PTSD and deprived sleep problems known as night-terrors. A place where I would have therapy talking about my dreams and how I could prevent them. To me, it was just another prison.
I was still allowed my family and in fact; they encouraged it. Aaron wasn't allowed, but my mother and my grandmother could visit me anytime they liked. Even spent the night as they had done in the hospital. Of course, I saw very little of Grandma and even less of my mother.
My grades had slipped a bit, not being allowed to study as much as I liked, but I wasn't failing either. I had given up my spot to play in the nationals. Mom and Dad say there is always next year. I had quit the swim team, gymnastics team, and kickboxing team. Dad tried to get me involved with chess, but I grew bored with it quickly. Even puzzles bored me. Books tired me quickly. Not having them as often as I liked didn't help matters.
What I really wanted was to go home. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere without being fully clothed unless I was outside. Then I didn't have to wear a shirt and I could go barefoot for short periods of time, or I was around the pool area or in my room. After so long living with the Downings and more so with the Rothwells, wearing so many layers of clothing was a cruel punishment. I seldom left my room to avoid getting dressed. They felt itchy and suffocating. Each day after therapy, I had to resist the urge to undress whenever I left my room. I think I would have been happy to live in a nudist colony, where the warm sun would kiss my bare skin.
Mom and Dad tried to lift some of the restrictions after I "accidentally" lost all my socks and my sneakers, which helped some by at least letting me go barefoot. Mom and Dad laughed when they put a sign on my door saying knock first before entering. After several female nurses entered the room, finding me sprawled out naked reading a book on my bed with the curtains and window wide open, having to add another warning: "Naked Boy Inside!" In big bold letters.
What can I say? I was following the rules; they said I had to only remain clothed outside my room unless I was going to the pool. I seldom saw my friends, even Brother Nile's stopped coming so often. I was told it was normal to be depressed having given up such an active lifestyle. There were very few boys my age, so I didn't make many friends. I even got in trouble a few times for going skinny dipping in the pool late at night, when I was supposed to be sleeping.
By the time I came home, the school year was almost half over. I had almost lost my tan from being inside so much. It felt odd running around the house in my boxers. After spending more time in clothing than I was used to. Even going barefoot seemed strange. Noting, they never found where I buried them. It took almost a week to feel normal again. I couldn't believe I was asking Mom and Dad if it was all right if I ran laps. They both laughed, telling me I could run naked if I wanted to. I checked to see if they were kidding and did just that.
Mom and Dad could have set a stopwatch or counted to ten by the time my boxers had hit the floor. Mom gave me a quick hug and a gentle pat on the bottom, telling me not to wear myself out too quickly. Only to have Shane and my two younger brothers Jared and Jason join me. Shawn, Danny, and Arthur were appalled by the fact that I had chosen to strip down and run laps, just because I wanted to. Even more so, watching Shane and the younger boys join me. Dad asked if they wanted to join us after our third lap. They said. "Why are we being punished?"
Dad said. "No, just because you want to."
Shawn said, "hell no Dad,," and Quickly went downstairs with Danny and Arthur following right behind them.
After a cold and wonderful shower, I felt normal, more normal than I had felt in a long time. Dad had decided that this weekend would be good for a family camp-out to the lake. Mom said, "how about just you boys go this time? Considering Jody couldn't go because she had taken a babysitter's job. Mom said Kerry would be home next weekend, saying she and her new husband would love to go. Shawn and Danny blushed. Just the idea of skinny dipping wasn't what they had in mind as fun.
No one said anything about doing that, but it was implied because we always go skinny dipping when we go to the lake. Well, the boys did. Dad grumbled about it and said, "Fine. We will all go on Saturday for the day after chores for those who want to go. But the following weekend we were all going, considering it's a family outing." It was a done deal.
Mom packed us all a nice lunch while Shane and I were saddling the horses. We were about to leave when Jody drove up in her new car. Telling Dad to give her ten minutes and running into the house, grabbed her bathing suit and a towel, telling Mom that she convinced the parents that she was babysitting for, to let her take their boys to the lake. Mom yelled. "You did tell them they were going skinny dipping?"
Jody rushed in. "Yes, Mom I did. It's not that I never gave them a bath before." Jody flew out of the house and climbed up behind me. Telling Dad, we're picking up the twins. Dad nodded and led the way.
Dad always planned on going skinny dipping. He liked it as much as we did. He stopped Jody, telling her he didn't bring a suit. Jody shrugged her shoulders. "And the problem is, Dad?" Dad didn't blush. I can guarantee my father would have. In fact, he would have forbidden us from doing it. Suit or no suit to him it was just plain wrong.
Dad just said. "I just wanted to make it clear that's all."
Jody nodded. "And you think that I have never seen you naked and that would bother me? Give me a break, Dad. Kerry, Mom, and I think you have the cutest butt we have ever seen, besides it's not my first rodeo." Laughing all the way up the trail yelling," Last one to the tire swing gets to do the dishes." I knew if Dad allowed it. She, Kerry, and Mom would have joined us, and done so when they weren't with us or gone far enough on the other side of the lake or waited until they thought we had gone to bed.