Still feeling hopeful

My dear friend Henry remains at a medical center that specializes in "behavioral health." Aka the looney bin. His 72-hour, legally-mandated stay began at 9:45 Wednesday night. So under normal circumstances, he should be released tonight. But he won't be. Between the weekend and the Memorial Day holiday, he will likely remain a patient until Tuesday morning. 

Thinking of him there, frightened and confused and angry, was breaking my heart. But his husband, Reg, reports that while Henry is lonely and like ET, tries to phone home constantly, he is comfortable and NOT insisting on being released. While it would be a stretch to say Henry likes being in this medical facility, he is not trying to escape, as he has when hospitalized in the past (first after his accident, then after a series of seizures caused by his TBI). This is not what Reg was expecting. A compliant Henry who is not fighting the doctors scares Reg. Not me. What Reg sees as Henry drifting away from us, I see as Henry cooperating with his own care. 

I have spent many therapy sessions talking about Henry with my own shrink. Usually in the context of how I'm handling all this. I love Henry very much and I feel helpless. Anyway, she supports my optimism. Henry's mental fog is definitely caused by the TBI, but it's been exacerbated by lifestyle choices that have left him depleted physically and emotionally. Since April 2021, when he lost his job at the library, Henry has indulged in too much alcohol and his days have not had enough structure. He hasn't received regular MRIs (or any MRIs) and his medications have not been calibrated for his changing condition. He's dehydrated. He's weak. He may have a UTI. 

I also suspect that his hearing and vision aren't what they could be. After all, he's 59 and these things begin to fade. Since he doesn't drive, he hasn't had his eyes or ears checked in years. I wonder if his sense of isolation and frustration isn't made worse by not only having a TBI but also compromised sight and hearing. 

So now he's spending almost a week in the hospital, getting the care I believe he should have been getting all along. He will be dried out and monitored. He'll have an MRI and his treatment will be adapted. 

I'm not stupid. I know this might break the other way. I also understand that even if Henry gets a positive prognosis, he's looking at an intensive outpatient program and then months, maybe years, of therapy.

That's OK. I'm buckled in. I'm staying with Henry as long as this takes. Whatever this takes.