Entertainment in a Mental Hospital (Michigan)

Finding entertainment in a mental hospital is hard work. I came into the hospital without my Kindle-the horror of it all-and had to read an actual book! I was reading Secretariat at the time and the cover alone sparked much comment in the ward.

"Hey, is that a horse?"
I nodded.
"I had a horse once. My grandpa killed it."
Wow, thanks for sharing.

"Is that a horse on the cover of your book?"
Another slightly suspicious nod.
"I use to have a walking horse."
"That's cool."
"Yep."
Then he walked away. So much for that conversation.

Even my psychriastist commented on the book.
"I was in KY when he raced."
"Really? I lived in Lexington. I loved Keenland."
"I was in Louisville. Why were you in Lexington?"
"Having a nervous breakdown. First suicide attempt."
"Oh." Glance at watch. "Well, I guess we should finish this up."
Nothing like being rushed by your own psychiatrist.

So, what did I do for entertainment?

I listened to the schizos rant. And encouraged the prisoners. And, occasionally, encouraged the schizos. Yes, I was reduced to bullying the other patients for fun. Reason #5001 I will be residing in hell one day.

We had two true schizos on our floor. One, as my roommate told me the first night, sounded like Billy Bob Thorton in Slingblade. It was an amazingly accurate description. He was very rough in voice and appearance. I kept thinking of gray when I saw him. His hair was gray, his skin was gray and he was gray. It was like life was so much that he became gray and wrinkled. There were no sharp edges anymore. He was the opposite of a Picasso painting-smooth and dismal.

I named him Michigan in my mind and he immediately latched on to me when he found out my husband died of brain cancer. It did not occur he was not normal when we first talked despite the fact we were in a mental hospital. Huge freaking clue there.

Here was our first conversation:

"Your husband died of brain cancer?"
Cautious nod. I don't particularly like discussing my husband's death.
"What do they think cause that?"
"Well, they think he was just born with it."
"No knocks on the head? No brain trauma?"
I shook my head. I was starting to get uncomfortable but the whole damn place was uncomfortable.
"Do you think they caused it?"
I blinked. Um, who is they? I have noticed, with schizophrenics, that there is always they. I could never find out who they were but they had alot of power.
"No, I don't think they caused it."
"But, you can't know, can you?"
I started thinking of Mel Gibson in that movie with Julia Roberts where everyone thinks he is a schizophrenic. Michigan's speech patterns were exactly the same. He came alive when talking about "them."
"No, I can't but I really think it was just bad luck."
He shook his head. He was adamant there was no thing as bad luck. "I bet he knew something and they did it. What did he do?"
I started looking around for help but everyone deserted me. Bastards.
"Banking."
His eyes lit up. "Ah. That's why. Ever since the Chinese took over banking, they have become ruthless. Damn communists."
David walked into the dayroom at that point. "Hell, yeah, fucking Communists."
Now I was just fascinated and done with being uncomfortable. Communists? Banking? I was talking to a guy living in the eighties still or maybe even the seventies. I thought shit like this was made up in the movies. I leaned toward him. "Communists?"
Michigan leaned toward me and lowered his voice. "They are everywhere." He looked up toward the sprinklers. "In the sprinklers trying to control us."
David, obviously bored, sat down beside him. He looked up and then at Michigan. "Gotta be careful of the sprinklers."
Michigan, realizing he had an audience, then gave the most bizarre speech I have ever heard in my life. That includes speeches given by the president of my university and George W. Bush. It was quite the accomplishment. It got garbled somewhere in there but I remember he asked me if I knew what a car coil was and I didn't want him to stop. I have no clue what a car coil is-I can't even change my windshield wipers but I acted like I did just to listen.
"I invented this car coil in Michigan and the Communists got really upset. They sent people to destroy me. I had this red truck and they caused me to wreck it. Then, they put a transmitter on my brain. And they still track me and I know the sprinklers look at me and I made money out of this car coil-see it created less wear and tear on the transmission-and I was earning money from it and they were just jealous. So, they came and no one could stop them. Well, maybe the Russians but probably not. They were mad though that the Communists were working in Michigan-only Russians are suppose to work there..." And on and on it went. I expected Reagan and Carter to pop up any minute in this speech. Who still talks about Communists and Russians and transmitters besides Art Bell? It was truly like reliving my eighties childhood. Freaking amazing.

Later, he would come in with just one-liners or a short speech. Evidently, the long conversation just wore him out. Obama was on TV at one point and he said, "I bet that n--- thanks Communists every day for his Presidency. They created him." I gave him a pass on that speech because I know supposedly sane people that probably think that too.

My favorite was when he came in and flung himself in a chair. It was obvious he was just done. Tired, frustrated and done. "I just saw that movie Tango and Kurt Russell stole my idea! I had that idea. Damn Communists!" I had to leave the room that time. Apparently, in his mind Tango and Cash had just come out and it was an eighties movie. Also, Kurt Russel as a Communist struck my funny bone. I was still laughing when I went to bed. Who even thinks of Tango and Cash now?

My last day there, I was sniffling with a cold and my roommate, Yvonne, was too. Michigan came in and Yvonne cursed quietly. Michigan was like nails on chalkboard for her. He got on her everlasting nerve and she couldn't understand my fascination with him.

Michigan stared down at both of us.
"Flu," he said, sadly shaking his head.
I blew my nose. "It's just a cold. All this recycled air."
Michigan looked at me with pity. "Yellow snot. Russian flu. It entered the country on the East Coast in 1964. It's bad."
Yvonne couldn't resist. "Is it curable?"
Michigan looked at her with surprise. "You don't have Russian flu. Your snot is green. That is Communist flu. It entered through San Francisco in 1978."
I couldn't help it. I snorted. Michigan was very sensitive to being mocked so he left. We laughed hysterically. Russian flu? Communist flu? We couldn't decide which one of us was going to die first. Are Russians more powerful than Communists? I contend I was in the most danger because mine was older and had a chance to mutate. She said hers was more dangerous because it came from the East Coast. I think she was just being ornery.

I didn't see Michigan when I left. He was in the other dayroom watching the TV trying to figure out how they are ruining America. Since I know many people watch Fox News for the same reason, I didn't disturb him. I will admit, when I get anxious, I think of that Tango comment and the flu comment and laugh myself silly.

I hope, wherever Michigan is, they are giving him a rest and not trying to destroy him. I also hope I recover from the Russian flu.