It has been one of those days where you kinda sit around trying to figure what exactly you want to type. Contrary to the last time Mr.3 and I had to go through the therapy thingy...I decided that I need to write about this. Writing becomes my therapy.
Well as to an update from yesterday... I heard from Mr.3 at about 10:30 last night. He had been given something to sedate him and he was kinda out of it, he was crying on the phone to me wanting to know why I hadn't come to see him...he had been waiting for me. Of course, I haven't heard anything from anyone. He said that he was at the University psych ward, but I am not really that sure he knew exactly where he was. I asked him to tell me where he was or if there was someone nearby who could give me more information about where he was and how to get to him...like a nurse. He told me that he saw someone at the end of the hallway...he went to go and talk to them and then the phone was hung up. I star69ed the phone and found out that he was calling from his cell phone.
Then it was a series of completely unproductive phone calls with the University Hospital trying to get any sort of information about anyone. Basically...they can't tell you yes or no, but they would be more than willing to pass on a message if that person is there. Damned frustrating.
This morning I embarked on a similar odyssey with the VA hospital. They are a bit more helpful with information, but only just. When I first called them, they sounded positive that he was at their facility. The later in the day that it became, I called back to talk to the patient advocate's office. What I learned was that he is NOT at the facility, but someone is who has a similar sounding name. A dead-end.
In any case, I am learning alot about how the mental health system works. Each time I call, I make sure to ask procedural questions. New rule between Mr.3 and I....he checking himself in is not allowed...because these programs will not contact family. From now on, everything will have to be done together because the consequences are too difficult to bear.
And to continue this onwards...I contacted the police. They can't do anything either, even after the 72 hour window passes to officially declare him as a missing person. 72 hours! Can you believe that!? In fact they recommended that I social engineer myself into the ward. I think that I can going to try that tomorrow. If I get the nerve.
Don't bother trying to get the phone company to help you track someone by cell phone. That only works if they call 911....damn that television for giving me ideas that won't work.
My gut feelings are still telling me to be calm, whatever that means. So I am being calm...sitting at home, endlessly waiting....waiting for any word about Mr.3. Maybe because my gut says that this is really a simple situation and that there is no dishonesty on Mr.3's part, that I feel like writing about this. I guess last time, the shame I felt because I thought that he was leaving me was too much for me to admit, even in this most intimate of spaces on my blog.
So the counter clock is ticking....25 hours with no word and counting.