Page 42 of Want to Know a Secret?

“We have her restrained,” Peggy says tightly. “But she’s still very upset.”

“Of course she’s upset,” Dr. Williams says in that calm, controlled voice. “She’s incredibly confused and understandably wants to go home. It’s very common to feel that way with her level of dementia.” He furrows his brow. “We had to give her some IM Haldol and Ativan.”

I don’t know much about psychiatric meds, but I know those are pretty serious ones.

“I feel so bad about this.” I wring my hands together. “I so wish we could take her home. Maybe she’d be happier there.…”

“Right, but what would you do if she had an episode like this?” Dr. Williams folds his arms across his chest. “She could harm you or your family. This is the best thing for her, April. You know it is.”

“I guess…”

“It is,” he insists. “She’s going to have occasional episodes like this, but in general, she’s happy here. She can socialize with people like herself.”

“Maybe…”

We all look at the doorway to my mother’s room. The screaming seems to have stopped. At least for the moment.

“Can I go in?” I ask. “I want to talk to her.”

Dr. Williams puts his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to. And you should get your neck cleaned up. One of the nurses can get you a Band-Aid.”

“I want to make sure she’s okay,” I say. “Please.”

Finally, he nods. “Go ahead. But she’s probably going to be pretty sedated.”

My legs feel wobbly as I walk down the hallway to my mother’s private room. They’ve shut off the lights in the room in an attempt to get her to quiet down. But even through the darkness, I can see both wrists are strapped to the bedrails.

Her eyes crack open. They’re very bloodshot. “April,” she croaks.

“I’m here, Mom,” I say in a loud voice to make sure she can hear me. “I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.”

“April, please.” As opposed to the angry voice she used on camera, her voice is now a pleading whisper. “Please get me out of here. I don’t want to be in this place anymore.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“I don’t have to live with you.” Her words are coming out slurred. “I… I could get my own place. Somewhere far away. You’d never even have to see me. I wouldn’t bother you. I promise.”

Tears well up in my eyes. I remember how my mother used to walk me to the bus stop every single morning for school. My little hand would get swallowed up by her bigger hand, and I would feel so safe and secure. I just need her to be safe like that. But she doesn’t understand.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” I wipe the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. “You have to stay here. It’s the best thing.”

But then her eyes flutter closed. And just like that, she’s asleep.

My hands are still shaking as I leave the room. I wanted to include my mother in my show, but I can see now her dementia is too advanced. I can’t attempt it again.

Dr. Williams sees how upset I am. He’s perceptive about things like that. He puts a hand on my shoulder again. “You can’t let it get to you, April. You’re doing the right thing.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Peggy is watching us and it makes me uncomfortable.

“It sounds like her paranoia is getting worse. I’m going to increase her scheduled antipsychotics.” He takes a set of notes out of the pocket of his white coat and scribbles something down. “Hopefully she’ll do better with that.”

“Dr. Williams,” I say, “isn’t there anything we can do for her memory? Aren’t there any treatments? A clinical trial she can be enrolled in? Anything?”

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid the treatments for dementia right now aren’t great. We’ve already got her on Aricept and Namenda, and I haven’t noticed any improvement. I think right now the best thing we can do for her is to manage her agitation. Before she hurts somebody… or herself.”

“Okay… if you say so…”

He squeezes my shoulder. “Hang in there, April. I promise you this is the best thing for her. Don’t beat yourself up.”