dumpster diving for a blankie

i wrote this in March 2007


dumpster diving for a blankie


AS I wrote the list of things to do today, in preparation for my middle daughter and her friend's departure for a double University Graduation trip tomorrow-- my own mind departed on a journey.

I wrote the list, and L. and I departed for the day.

She did not have enough liquid to drink in the morning, and I was concerned the Clozaril blood draw would be one of those repeat days, of 'try and try again' for lack of hydration. So I stopped at that first store purposely.

As I stood and read the fine print of pre-paid phone cards, she found a bottle of pink and really yucky looking strawberry milk to drink.

Whatever floats your boat.

I thought I had lost her in the store, and here she shows up in line with a milk drink.

---

Next stop, was the blood draw.

If there is one thing in life that can make a person feel[in my opinion]like it steals away your rights or liberty or something; it is a mandatory bi-monthly blood draw for an antipsychotic that quite possibly in her case is not needed.

My mind wandered again.

Back to the [trash] dumpster in the parking lot of the medical center.
--

IT is the same parking lot of a medical center my kids went to when they were little, for sniffles and stuff.

L. actually never had a cold; hers always went straight to pneumonia.

So many nights, when she was a toddler I would watch her sleep, and sit in her room to make sure she was breathing.

Until about age 4 she had bronchitis and pneumonia several times. [for interest google PANDAS mental illness].


Pink liquid suspension antibiotics came to mind when she drank that pink strawberry milk today.

---

The rain here today, was ridiculous at best.

It was mixed with snow, and hail.

Later in the day,[and after the blood draw] I entered a new shop in town. It's all about spiritual, and mindfulness things. The woman who sold me 2 charms to give to my daughter and her friend tomorrow was bald.

THE woman is in the process of having chemotherapy, and I must say, she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever encountered.

AS we entered the parking lot to the medical center we use now just for the lab --i saw it.
--

The dumpster.

It is boxed in with a decorative fence, and locked closed.
--

[Boxed in with a decorative fence, and locked closed.] [as the locked psych wards]

--

When L. was 2 years old, she left her blankie in the doctor's office.

Of course when a toddler goes to sleep at night, and the blankie is missing, this will drive fear into the heart of the child, and horror into the Mom's.

There is one thing in life I know: some kids need their blankies to sleep, and quite possibly may need that blankie until they are 100 years old.

I remember thinking and backtracking where we had been during the day that day.
--

The medical center.

I called the pharmacy there.

Someone answered.

The pharmacist told me "I threw it away."

"What?, I said, "You remember finding the blanket, and throwing it away, instead of leaving it out on a entrance area directory or something? who does that? do you have kids? "

"Well, yes I have kids."


A woman interrupts the conversation.


"What? [his name] were you thinking? we have kids and you know that baby can't sleep tonight without her blankie! Where is it?" she said.

She proceeds to tell me how this was her husband and the janitorial crew at the time was his brother.

She told me :

"Well he said it's out in the dumpster, and they think it should be toward the top, in a brown cardboard box."

--
As I approached the dumpster, I thought, how in the hell am I going to scale that fence?

Well I did.

I climbed up, and over that fence, and saw the box.

[no idea why it was in a box]

I opened the box, and there was the blanket that had covered L. since she was born.

I got the blanket, and drove home.
---

That blanket remains outside of a box today on her bed.