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Tuesday, December 27, 2011


The police took Brent to a holding sub-station and he was later transported to the University Hospital. MIW’s require a minimum, yet mandatory 72-hour involuntary hold. Those first 24 hours were very critical. At that point, I wasn’t going on much sleep, so I was looking forward to knowing that my husband was in good hands and that my father-in-law and one brother-in-law were going to arrive in a couple of days.
I received a call around midnight from a nurse asking me if there were any medical conditions they should be aware of. The situation itself was a condition, but I also stated that he had a history of extremely high blood pressure. The conversation lasted about 20 minutes and I was able to go back to sleep after that. At about 3am, the phone rang again, I really don’t remember at this point if it was a doctor or a nurse that I was talking to but told me that my husband had a stroke and that since he was there under a warrant, the procedures did not allow any of us to be there. Shocked, scared, those words don’t begin to explain how I felt. I was so afraid of losing the one I loved and started to second guess ever filing. The phone calls continued and obviously, I was unable to go back to sleep. Eventually, the next morning, a nurse from the Psych floor called and said that he was stable and resting comfortably at that point. I asked them what was up with the stroke, and she said nothing was listed in his charts and that he didn’t seem to be a stroke victim.
My brother-in-law who worked with us was very helpful. He was able to call the Human Resource department and Brent’s boss to let them know he was hospitalized and wouldn’t be able to make it work, and at that point not sure of a return date. I was relieved because I didn’t want to answer any questions. The whole situation was embarrassing and when you work at a large organization like that news spreads like wild fires.
Visitation hours were very short and on specific days, but luckily it was the following day. My mom and I headed down there. I was scared to see him because I wasn’t sure how he was going to react to the fact that I filed this warrant against him. I assured the medical staff that I spoke with that I just wanted my husband to get the help he needed and that I was not going to file for a divorce. Deep down I knew when I took the vows of marriage, specifically through sickness and health, that I meant it and I would do what I could to keep my family together. People were screaming, staring out the window, and one lady kept walking up to me and rubbing my pregnant belly. I’m not going to lie, I was freaked out! When Brent walked in the room, he looked exhausted, but he got this huge smile on his face and gave me a big hug. He was so sweet and totally understood why I did what I did. Then, he turned to my mom and told her he loved her. We were only there for about 10 minutes and Brent said, “These people are f---ed, get out of here! I don’t want you around this! Plus, I’m really tired.” From the long walk to the car and all the way home, my mom and I cried like a couple of babies, I’m talking sobbing!
Upon the arrivals of my in-laws, I called my husband’s nurse and explained that Brent’s father and brother were in town for a short period and wanted to stop in for a visit even though it wasn’t the designated visitation day. A couple of hours later, she was able to get the clearance and off to the hospital we headed. I packed Brent some clothes and toiletries in a bag and buried inside I wrote a little note: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you – please don’t take my sunshine away. Get well, baby! –Pookie”
“Pookie” was the name Brent always called me and the song we always sang to our baby girl, so I felt it was appropriate. When we arrived at the hospital, someone came out and started going through the bag I brought. They were taking shoe strings out of shoes, threw away razors, took the drawstring out of sweat pants, and a lot of other crazy things. The lady looked up above her glasses and said “Since this is the Psych floor, these items are not allowed.” I said, “I understand the razor thing, but what’s up with the strings?” She had a very serious look on her and said, “You would be surprised how creative people can get!”
We were then placed in a large conference room behind locked doors where the doctor met with us. He was very nice, but didn’t really say much. He more or less was listening to our take on the whole situation. I remember his brother stating that Brent has been a habitual liar for as long as he could remember. The father explained that a history of mental illness was in their family and that he noted Brent’s behavior getting worse as time went on, dating back as a young child. It was nice to have the help and finally getting to connect with my brother-in-law. It wasn’t much longer until the big door creaked open and in walked Brent. He looked horrible, not to mention very angry. I took about as much as I could – his anger was directed towards me and it was very obvious! So, I left.
Still extremely exhausted, I decided to do some research on the internet. I logged into our insurance company’s website to find my husband a Psychiatrist and schedule an appointment to comply with the court order. To my surprise, I found some very important information. Do you remember the child that was discussed earlier, in regards to the DNA test? Well, it turns out that Brent IS the father. Why and how could he do that to an innocent child? Why would he have put his ex wife through so much hell while she was pregnant? Why did he tell Alex and Maci that it was their half brother? How do I tell my children that Daddy has another child out there that he’s never even met? This child was created while we were dating! What in the hell?!?!?!?
To top that day off, I was notified that my position was eliminated and I was unemployed.

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