He called me last night after the usual visiting hours. I couldn’t visit him yesterday, because patients are supposed to be there for 24 hours before getting any visitors. The perky charge nurse whom I talked to turned all soup nazi when I asked if Rory could have visitors last night. “It hasn’t been 24 hours! No soup for you!” But I left a message that I loved him and would see him tomorrow (i.e., today). I suppose the message got passed on, because he called me. It was good to talk to him. He was still suicidal all day, but they hadn’t given him any new meds. Last night they were supposed to give him the new med combination experiment. They’re keeping two of his meds, just increasing them, and changing one out for a new one. Or that was what I could piece together from our slightly cell-phone-y reception.
I’ll be going by visiting hours this evening, along with some friends that he requested. I was very pleased that he had specific people he’d want to see, and that it was a small number. We got all this worked out while I was at the emergency room with him. I knew the drill from last time, so we worked out some details before they took him away.
Rory also said he wrote out a blog post in the hospital, so after I see him tonight, I’ll type it out and post it for you all. I’m as anxious to read it as anyone.
And thanks to everyone for the outpouring of support, both for Rory and for me. You have no idea how much it means.