Susan Senator

Sunday night was a bit of a trial for me. Nat did not make his nightly call, so I called the House instead. The staff person was kind of quiet and not only difficult to hear, but he just didn’t have a lot to say about Nat’s day. There was nothing outwardly wrong with what he did or did not tell me. I heard about Nat’s mood that afternoon, and where they went for fun (they went apple-picking). But I did not feel satisfied. The thing is, I don’t even know what to ask, I only know I’ve heard it when I hear it. I mean, when a House staff person gives me a certain feeling about Nat, based on a few things they tell me about his day — that’s when I know I have heard enough.

I asked to speak to Nat. He was the worst, most spacey I have ever heard him: completely out of it, unable to answer most of my questions, dragging out the word “ye-es,” even when it didn’t make sense to answer “yes.” I got that downward tugging in my face, and my mind raced quickly but came up blank. “Give the phone back to —, Nat” I said, again and again, wanting to speak once more to the House guy. Nat could not do it. Or would not? He just kept saying nothing, or “ye-es.” It was horrible. Finally I said, “Nat, I’m going to hang up. Goodbye, Darling. Nat, hang up!” He would not even hang up. It was a terrible feeling, hanging up anyway.

I then called the House back. I asked them to check on him, to tell me how he seemed. But the staff person thought Nat was fine. Maybe tired. I got off the phone. I was not satisfied. I was starting to get angry, which is where my Nat-worry usually goes.

I called again. I asked them to check on him again and call me back. Then, apparently, the nurse came in just then to do a weekly check on everyone. I asked for her to check on him. Then I had Ned call them back. Call number four from us. The nurse told Ned she thought Nat was fine, just a little tired from the apple-picking.

I wrote a fiery email to the House Manager, which I did not send. Instead, I emailed him briefly, merely asking him to call me when he had the chance. Very restrained for me. I didn’t talk to him until today, which was a good thing, because by now I was much calmer and could separate out what it was I needed from them. The Manager was very good at figuring out what needed to be done about Sunday night (from the staff perspective) and also reassured me about a number of things. Also Nat was himself again by Monday (although he’d had one of his rare outbursts that morning, about a pair of shorts with a broken button, under the bed. the House Manager checked under his bed, but there was nothing. But when I heard about the outburst, I went upstairs to check under his bed here, and sure enough there were a pair of shorts under there. No broken button, but I’ll figure out what was wrong with them.).

I am learning that my instincts are pretty good but my impulses get me in trouble. I feel that Nat is well-cared-for there at the House, my gut and my brain tell me so, but sometimes I trip over my wildfire temper. Anyway, Nat is worth the fall.