The months came and the months went and I was still a fixture at the hospital. The psychiatrist and the other staff members, felt that Susan needed to get rid of the anger that was holding her back by herself instead of relying on her family to just kiss it and make it all better. They were not allowed to visit me. Knowing few Miamians I got no visitors and the old saying; when you laugh everyone laughs with you, cry and you cry alone, became very true for me.
I saw patients come and patients go while I was stagnate in the hospital. On top of having to live there I had made no progress physically with Eric in over two years. One morning I confronted him with this and he said, “No you haven’t gotten any better, in fact you’ve gotten worse.” I realized then that we could no longer work together which brought on a great amount of fear. Walking meant everything to me and I felt that I couldn’t walk properly without Eric's’s help. I was scared to death that there were no other therapists in Miami that were as good as him but I went looking anyway. I interviewed several physical therapists while I was in the hospital. I finally found one who was very self-confident and had what Eric lacked; a wonderful personality. I was forced to do many sit-ups and she said that when she was through with me I would have a tight little ass and an extremely firm stomach. I still lived with the fear my new therapist would not get me as well as quick as Eric. I asked my new therapist about this and she asked me to give her three weeks. It didn’t take three weeks; I was walking better in only two. I now had a light at the end of my tunnel and it was at full power. Seeing this change not only helped me physically but also forced me to view life and living in a much more positive light.
I was given therapeutic passes at this time so I found someone to drive me. This person was a “nice girl,” who my mother found from the church. We went shopping and when we walked out of the store she held up her wrist and asked me if I liked her new bracelet. I looked and noticed that the tag was still attached to it. I laughed my nervous little giggle and we headed toward the car. When we shut the doors she proceeded to pull out a joint, and I thought, “Oh my God what am I going to do.” I laughed nervously because I thought she could hear my heart pound. She smoked half of it and took me back to the hospital; I thanked her and walked away. This presented a real quandary, which I discussed with my psychiatrist and we both felt that I had to let her go, which I did. A woman who heard of my predicament said her roommate was looking for a job. I called her and told her I needed a driver. At this time I was still in my black hole but I did find a hairpin and I was trying to pick that dirty little lock.
One morning my psychiatrist wanted to see me so I went with him and we got a cup of coffee. We sat for a minute then he said I’ve got some bad news to tell you. ‘Oh no what have I done wrong now,’ I thought. “Joe killed himself yesterday,” he said. I sat there in shock for a few minutes and I asked how. “He hung himself”. I walked back to my room crawled up in my bed and cried.
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