"You wait in the yard," I could hear Joyce loudly tell her sister behind the closed door. "I am going to ask Andrew what to do."
I opened the door and she came barging in, taking off her earmuffs so she could hear. She looked so cold, bundled up in layers of clothes. She was also extremely confused and her sister didn't know what to do with her.
"I've lost my medicines," Joyce said with a pained look on her face.
"Are you sure you didn't flush them down the toilet again?" I asked, holding her hand as I cringed at the thought of another thousand dollars of medication whisked away in a turbulent flush of toilet water.
"I can't remember," she said with a crazy look in her eyes. I wondered if I looked like this when caught in the throes of my schizophrenia.
I calmly walked into my computer room to call my father. Joyce followed me as she took off her coat. My father agreed to prepare her refills just before closing. I decided to drive her down to pick them up.
"You sure you don't mind?" Joyce's sister asked me as we stepped to my car. "I just didn't know what to do. She is clearly out of it. We are supposed to be out at the lake house for Thanksgiving."
"I don't mind," I said. "We will be back in just a minute."
And I didn't mind. I hope Joyce, when in her right mind, will see about me. It is rather selfish if you think about it for a moment. I just want the same care and concern returned. I never know when my mental illness will strike and I am in the same predicament.
"I love you so much," Joyce said, shakily, as we drove to my father's pharmacy. "I really do love you so much."
"I love you too, sweetheart," I replied, reaching out for her hand. "Everything's going to be okay."
Happy Crazy Thanksgiving. Its that season of the year that brings out the worst of us "mentally interesting" folks. It will only get more interesting as Christmas approaches. Light a candle and say a prayer. It is going to be a bumpy ride.