Doors

Chairs. Nothing but rows, upon rows of brown hospital recliners, filled with men in a zombie like state. Some were covered with the traditional white, and very uncomfortable hospital blankets, while others just sat there staring at the small flat screen television. The T.V. was inside of a brown wooden box, with a glass front, that I would later find out was to keep them from breaking the television, and using it as a weapon. This room was dark, even though it was barely past noon, and it felt cold, unusually cold, even for a hospital.

Jess opened another door, and led me to what appeared to be a waiting room. She said I would be taken care of in a moment, handed someone in black scrubs a packet, and walked out of the room. I took a seat in the front of the room by the door, where I always seem to sit. Maybe that spot makes me feel comfortable, knowing I’m one step closer to the exit, even if I can’t leave. Not 5 minutes later, I was called into a small room, with 2 men inside, this was where I was required to give them everything of value, and personal belongings deemed unsafe. For instance my long-sleeved shirt, with a crisscrossed front, and my favorite sneakers had to be removed because the strings were a choking hazard, and they replaced my shoes with slide sandals that were 2 sizes too big. I could barely walk. My heart-shaped promise ring given to me by my husband of 6 years, because it could be used to harm someone, or myself. They even asked if I had an under wire bra on, and I am so thankful I chose a sports bra that day! I even had to pull my hair out of its ponytail, to show them the size of my hair-tie, to prove it wasn’t big enough to hurt anyone. They sent me out of the room, and back to the waiting room, and I didn’t even get a chance to sit before the next tech; this time a female called me back. They were moving at a fast pace, so I was hopeful that this was all just protocol, and even if I were to leave within 2 hours, I still need to go through all this.

This was the first female tech I had seen the entire time of being there, which at this point was going into the 3 hour mark. The door we went to next had a huge lock on it, which you could only lock from the outside which at first made me have a mild, if not major internal anxiety attack. Being trapped in a room, is not something I am fond of. We opened the door to a cold, somewhat dark bathroom, and she had a clipboard in hand. She asked me if I had any tattoos, scars, birthmarks, and anything of that nature. Then she made me undress, down to my undergarments, and show her everything. I held my underwear out, and shook it to prove I wasn’t hiding anything, same with my bra. I had to turn and lift my arms, as she pulled my back strap out of my bra and looked into my underwear. She said, “Thank you,” and before I could get completely dressed, she opened the door, and was walking back down the hall where we came from. I threw on my shirt, and carried those oversized slide sandals and just walked in my socks after her.

When I finally caught up to her, I was brought to a small room, with a glass window that looked out to a set of doors. They were locked, and there was a camera in every corner. I didn't know where they led, yet still I wanted nothing more than to walk out those doors. They were doors to freedom, and I wanted to go start the day over. I filled out the standard paperwork, they asked me about insurance, allergies, and who my emergency contact was. However, during this, I saw a man come in, guided by a police officer, and I realized why those doors were there. It was the entrance for the police to bring in those who need to be secured, and separated from the rest of us. I then heard a printer, and before I could blink, my patient bracelet was placed onto my arm.