Bumps in the road | J. Puckerman (1)

Please

TW: mentions of suicide and self-harm

Jake didn't take his eyes off the door. Every few seconds he would move my hand to his face and kiss it, or put my hand on his chest.

There was a small knock on the door that caused Jake to jump, "Sorry to scare you," the doctor said in a deep voice. "Do you think your.... do you think she can get out of your bed?"

Jake shook his head aggressively and grabbed onto my shirt pulling me into him. All the grounding and calming that we did wiped away the second the doctor spoke.

Great.

"She's going to need to leave so we can do vitals." The doctor said. His voice was short and rude. "We can have a therapist come talk to you first. But ma'am, you need to get out of his bed. You are compromising his care. Someone will be in shortly," he said as he walked out of the room.

I looked around and got out of the bed. The second I stood up it was like a landmine was released. Jake started sobbing at the top of his lungs, digging his nails into his hairline and trying to kick the blankets off his legs. He kept moving between digging at its head, hands, and thighs. If someone walked in, you would think that someone was torturing him. When in reality, the only thing that was torturing him, was his brain.

I looked at the nurse who nodded again and I walked to the side of the bed to take Jake's hands. "Shhshhhshh, Jake. Jake look at me. Look at me and breathe," I told him, moving both of his hands to one of mine. "I'm right here. You're safe. I'm here I promise," I whispered, using my free hand to wipe his tears.

He tried to rip his hands out of mine sobbing, "please I have to. I need something please please."

"Shhh, you're okay baby. You're okay Jake," I whispered with tears running down my face. "Let's get some big deep breaths together, okay handsome?"

I needed to keep him breathing and somewhat calm so he didn't work himself up and get too sweaty. He didn't need his brain spinning on top of a sensory overload. He kept trying to pull his hands away, sobbing and trying to grab onto my shirt.

"Do what you know how to do as long as it doesn't hurt him." The nurse told me, seeing that Jake wasn't going to calm down anytime soon. If he kept at the rate he was going, he would pass out in under five minutes just from lack of oxygen.

I cleared my throat to try and make my voice clear and free from sadness. "I need a cold wet washcloth. My brother, Blaine Anderson, will be back soon with two stuffed animals, it doesn't seem like much but those will help. His mom should be here at some point, but I don't know when. Before anyone touches him, they need to tell him. Different textures are very overwhelming for him, so if or when you need to do an IV be sure to have me in here so I can help him through that. I need a cold washcloth?" I was trying to run through everything that I knew would help him. All I wanted to do, was lay in the bed with him and never let him go. It was hard to think of what to say when Jake was sobbing and fighting me to have his hands and let him hurt himself.

The nurse nodded, "I will have someone bring you washcloths, and let the front desk know the people and things that you need. That doctor most likely won't be back, but a new one will. I am your person, so I'm just going to sit here with you two and let him be in safe control. We are going to move him up to an Inpatient room in a little while for a few days. You are more than welcome to come up, and depending on his plan, he might be able to have more people too. Until then, do you want me to move one of the bed rails so you can help him better?"