As Christa slowly approached Joe, she could see that he was crying, and she knew at that point that he was not having one of his seizures.
“Joe, honey, what’s wrong?”
“I got out of the car. I couldn’t find the house,” Joe sobbed. “I started walking. I don’t know where I am.”
John had come up behind Joe and Christa and overheard what Joe had said. “That’s it, Christa. We’re taking him back in, right now. He can’t live his life like this, and neither can we. They need to do something.”
John and Christa took Joe to the car, and John immediately headed toward Rochester. Thirty minutes later they were standing in the emergency room of St. Mary’s Hospital, explaining Joe’s situation to the attending nurse.
“I’m not exactly sure what we can do for your son, sir,” the nurse politely explained. “I would suggest that you call his psychiatrist in the morning.”
“We’re not going anywhere. If we can’t talk to his psychiatrist until morning, then you are putting him in a hospital bed tonight. It’s unsafe for our son to not be under proper supervision,” John demanded.
The nurse made a phone call, then left the nurses’ station for a few minutes. When she came back, she began completing the paperwork to have Joe admitted. “We can admit Joe back up to the psychiatric ward for tonight, but in the morning you will need to get a referral from his primary psychiatrist over at the county clinic.”
“What about Dr. Spitzack?” Christa inquired. “Can’t he refer Joe?”
“Unfortunately Joe was originally referred to us by Dr. Owen at the county clinic. Once Joe’s treatment was complete, he was no longer under Dr. Spitzack’s care. You will need to call Dr. Owen in the morning,” the nurse instructed.
With that, six weeks after he had been originally discharged, the Aden’s signed the admission papers for Joe to be placed back in the psychiatric unit at St. Mary’s, and Joe was taken up to a room and given a sedative to help him sleep.
As Joe dozed off, Tessie came to see him again.
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