incredibly sucky week

It all started with my pseudo-aunt. She usually emails or texts me at least twice a week and usually more. She suddenly stopped emailing or texting and didn't respond when I attempted to contact her. I eventually stopped trying. Then I found out about her recent medical diagnosis of cystic fibrosis. I discussed it in more detail in my three preceding posts.

I was relieved that she wasn't angry at me, but I'm very concerned about her health. It sounds as though, at least as cystic fibrosis cases go, maybe it's not as bad as usual if it took doctors until she was twenty-three to find it, although I really don't know that. One of the psychologists asked about it because I had been concerned about the lack of contact. I must have answered wrong, because she jumped all over me. She said that my selfishness was inexcusable because I was much happier to learn that pseudo-aunt has a potentially fatal illness than I was when I thought she might be mad at me. Such is not the case in any respect. I would much prefer that she be mad at me as opposed to having cystic fibrosis. Am I supposed to sit and wring my hands in the common areas of this $#%^& facility to demonstrate my anguish for this psychologist's benefit?

My dad was working in southern California this week, and he was supposed to visit me on Thursday, accompany me to a counseling session, and take me to dinner. He did a complete no-show. Then he was supposed to show up today. He said he was going to take me to a pool that has regulation diving boards and allows diving so I could practice. I haven't practiced diving since before I broke my leg last spring. He was also supposed to sit through a counseling session and take me out for an early dinner. He again did a complete no-show with no phone call or text message to warn me or to apologize after the fact. He also didn't take my calls or answer my texts asking if he was coming.

I tried not to act like an immature imbecile about my dad not showing up, but it may have been obvious that I ws a bit bothered. The same psychologist, who usually isn't very nice, offered to take me and anyone else who wanted to come to the beach to run. She said we could go after her last counseling appointment was finished at two o'clock. Two o'clock came and went without the psychologist coming out of her office. At almost two-thirty, I knocked on the door. She answered, "What do you want?" in a somewhat hostile voice. I asked her when she would be ready to go to the beach. She said through the door without even getting up to answer it or giving me permission to open it that she changed her mind because no one other than I wanted to go. Two guys were playing ping pong in a lounge right across from her office, and they hollered out that they wanted to go running, too. She opened the door and said they were just saying that because I wanted to go. Then she slammed the door in my face.

The psychological staff mans the front desk and door between 2:45 and 3:15 while the nursing staff meets for updates as the shifts change and new personnel come on duty. When female rottweiler psychologist mans the desk, she sits down there for about ten seconds, then goes into her office and tells anyone who's around to call her if someone rings the bell to get in. I waited until she went into her office, as she always does, then buzzed myself out and walked the three minutes from the hospital exit to the beach, where I had a decent run. It wasn't half as satisfying as diving would have been, but for the time, it would have to suffice.

I walked back in with some visitors and went into my room assuming I had not been missed. My assumption was incorrect. I wouldn't have been caught except that someone on the nursing staff had incorrectly tried to dispense medication to me at a time I'm not supposed to take medication. The female rottweiler psychologist had left for her dinner break, but had told the nursing staaff that I was to be confined to my room with no visitors and that she would call me into her office as soon as she returned. When she returned, I was summoned and went into her office. She started yelling at me before I closed the door behind me. Then she picked up a phone and dialed my dad's cell phone number. My dad actually took her phone call after he had been dodging mine all day. She told him that I had left the premises without authorization. He asked her questions about what had happened, and she answered. Then he asked to speak with me.

My dad dispensed with any form of greeting and didn't bother to apologize for his earlier no-show. He just said, "You're grounded for the entire time that you're home for Christmas."

I was bolder than usual. "That's really great," I told him. "Isolate a mental health patient the entire time that she's home."

"What else do you expect me to do, Alexis?" he asked. "[another consequence] you?"

"You could try showing up when you say you're going to," I answered. He hung up on me.

The female rottweiler psychologist told me I would be transferred to a more secure portion of the hospital. She doesn't have the authority do make that transfer, but I didn't know that when she said it. "I hate you, " I told her as I left to go back to my room.

"The feeling is mutual," she said to me as I walked out the door.

I stayed in my room with the covers pulled over my head all evening. Female rottweiler psychologist ordered nurses to confiscate my cell phone and computer, but the psychological intern brought them both back a few minutes ago.

I skyped with pseudo-uncle. Pseudo-aunt came on briefly to show me that she is still alive and relatively well. Pseudo uncle says twin bro probably called dad and complained that his pitching arm is sore, which probably caused dad to lose focus on all his obligations. Says pseudo-aunt's dad read my blog (I would think he has better things to do, but at least someone in the world is looking out for my interests, so I certainly won't complain). Pseudo-aunt's dad called my dad to say that my parents will someday have major regrets if they don't pay more attention to me now. I find that a little hard to believe. Even if bro has been relegated to recreation league slow-pitch softball, parents' major obsession will still be watching all his games and monitoring the status of his arm, but I appreciate the thought. Pseudo-uncle is fairly certain at least part of grounding will be rescinded, but he made me promise not to sneak out again. I don't break promises, unlike SOME people.

If anyone read my last sentence before it was edited out, don't be alarmed. I still strongly dislike my immediate family (parents and brother) and the female rottweiler psychologist, but not the rest of the world.