and clear he wants out. We need to address that in a very serious way.”
“I really think the boy would do better at home with his mother,” Dr. West said as though talking to a child, or a very, very young nurse.
“I'm his psychiatrist,” Maxine said firmly, “and my professional opinion is that if he goes home with his mother, he'll be dead within a week, possibly twenty-four hours.” It was as blunt as she could get, and she wouldn't have said it to Jason's mother. But she wasn't going to pull any punches with the condescending, very arrogant Dr. West.
“That seems a little hysterical to me,” he said, sounding annoyed this time.
“His mother has agreed to admit him. I don't think we have any other choice. He needs to be in a locked ward, under careful watch. There's no way to set that up in a foolproof way at home.”
“Do you lock up all your patients, Dr. Williams?” He was downright insulting, and Maxine was starting to get mad. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Only the ones in danger of killing themselves, Dr. West, and I don't think your patient is going to be in great shape if she loses her son. What would your assessment be of that?”
“I think you need to leave the assessment of my patients to me,” he said, sounding huffy.
“Precisely. Good point. And I suggest you leave mine to me. Jason Wexler is my patient, I've been seeing him since his first suicide attempt, and I'm not liking what I see at all, or what I'm hearing from you, as a matter of fact. If you'd like to look up my credentials on the Internet, Dr. West, be my guest. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go back to my patient. Thanks for the call.” He was still blustering when she hung up, and she had to hide the fact that she was livid when she walked back into Jason's room. It wasn't their problem that she and Helen's physician had hated each other on the phone. He was the kind of pompous jerk who cost lives, as far as Maxine was concerned, and a real menace, dismissing the seriousness of the crisis Jason was in. He needed to be in a locked psychiatric facility just like Silver Pines. Screw Dr. West.
“Did everything go all right?” Helen looked at her anxiously, and Maxine hoped that she couldn't see how angry she was. She covered her anger with a smile.
“It was fine.” Maxine examined Jason then, and stayed with him for another half hour, telling him what Silver Pines would be like. He pretended not to care or be scared, but Maxine knew he was. He had to be. This was a frightening time for him. First he had almost died, and now he was stuck having to face life again. As far as he was concerned, it was the worst of both worlds.
She left them, and assured Helen that she would be available all day and that night and the next day for calls. And then after signing his discharge papers, she left the hospital and walked home. She was fuming about that idiot doctor, Charles West, on her brief walk up Park Avenue. And Daphne and her friends were still asleep when she got home. It was almost noon by then.
This time, Maxine strode into her daughter's room and raised the shades. The bright morning sunlight poured into the room, and she called out loudly, telling them to rise and shine. None of them looked well as they groaned and got up. And then, as she climbed out of bed, Daphne spotted the lineup of empty beer bottles on her dresser and saw the look in her mother's eyes.
“Oh shit,” she said softly, glancing swiftly at her friends. They all looked scared.
“You might say that,” Maxine said coolly, glancing at the others, then, “Thanks for dropping by, girls. Get dressed and get your stuff. The party's over. And as for you”—she turned to Daphne again— “you're grounded for the month. And whoever brings any kind of alcohol here again won't be allowed to come back. You all violated my hospitality and my trust. I'll speak to you later,” she said to Daphne, who looked panicked. The girls began to whisper
“I really think the boy would do better at home with his mother,” Dr. West said as though talking to a child, or a very, very young nurse.
“I'm his psychiatrist,” Maxine said firmly, “and my professional opinion is that if he goes home with his mother, he'll be dead within a week, possibly twenty-four hours.” It was as blunt as she could get, and she wouldn't have said it to Jason's mother. But she wasn't going to pull any punches with the condescending, very arrogant Dr. West.
“That seems a little hysterical to me,” he said, sounding annoyed this time.
“His mother has agreed to admit him. I don't think we have any other choice. He needs to be in a locked ward, under careful watch. There's no way to set that up in a foolproof way at home.”
“Do you lock up all your patients, Dr. Williams?” He was downright insulting, and Maxine was starting to get mad. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Only the ones in danger of killing themselves, Dr. West, and I don't think your patient is going to be in great shape if she loses her son. What would your assessment be of that?”
“I think you need to leave the assessment of my patients to me,” he said, sounding huffy.
“Precisely. Good point. And I suggest you leave mine to me. Jason Wexler is my patient, I've been seeing him since his first suicide attempt, and I'm not liking what I see at all, or what I'm hearing from you, as a matter of fact. If you'd like to look up my credentials on the Internet, Dr. West, be my guest. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go back to my patient. Thanks for the call.” He was still blustering when she hung up, and she had to hide the fact that she was livid when she walked back into Jason's room. It wasn't their problem that she and Helen's physician had hated each other on the phone. He was the kind of pompous jerk who cost lives, as far as Maxine was concerned, and a real menace, dismissing the seriousness of the crisis Jason was in. He needed to be in a locked psychiatric facility just like Silver Pines. Screw Dr. West.
“Did everything go all right?” Helen looked at her anxiously, and Maxine hoped that she couldn't see how angry she was. She covered her anger with a smile.
“It was fine.” Maxine examined Jason then, and stayed with him for another half hour, telling him what Silver Pines would be like. He pretended not to care or be scared, but Maxine knew he was. He had to be. This was a frightening time for him. First he had almost died, and now he was stuck having to face life again. As far as he was concerned, it was the worst of both worlds.
She left them, and assured Helen that she would be available all day and that night and the next day for calls. And then after signing his discharge papers, she left the hospital and walked home. She was fuming about that idiot doctor, Charles West, on her brief walk up Park Avenue. And Daphne and her friends were still asleep when she got home. It was almost noon by then.
This time, Maxine strode into her daughter's room and raised the shades. The bright morning sunlight poured into the room, and she called out loudly, telling them to rise and shine. None of them looked well as they groaned and got up. And then, as she climbed out of bed, Daphne spotted the lineup of empty beer bottles on her dresser and saw the look in her mother's eyes.
“Oh shit,” she said softly, glancing swiftly at her friends. They all looked scared.
“You might say that,” Maxine said coolly, glancing at the others, then, “Thanks for dropping by, girls. Get dressed and get your stuff. The party's over. And as for you”—she turned to Daphne again— “you're grounded for the month. And whoever brings any kind of alcohol here again won't be allowed to come back. You all violated my hospitality and my trust. I'll speak to you later,” she said to Daphne, who looked panicked. The girls began to whisper
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