December 2, 2003
We watched "A Beautiful Mind" the other day. People kept telling him he should watch it, including his spiritual advisor. He tried to watch it by himself, twice, and could not get through it. It was too upsetting for him, struck too close to home perhaps, brought up issues that are hard to face.
They don't do coma shock therapy anymore, but it's enough to know it's a possibility.
I told him we could watch it together, that I would be there just in case. And so he brought the DVD over to my house, and we settled in to watch. He sat in his chair, the chair that was his when we were married, the chair that is still his as no one else except Dog uses it. Orvis himself has never sat in that chair, but always sits with me on the couch. I made myself comfortable on the couch, and in this position, I face away from him.
Occasionally, during the movie, I'd ask how he was doing, and he'd say he was doing fine. I reached back once or twice to take his hand, and he seemed calm.
Towards the end of the movie I heard him, a noise, a sound, and I realized he was sobbing, wretched heartbreaking sobs. I went to him and knelt in front of him, and I told him that I was there with him, that it would be okay, and asked if we should stop the movie. He said no, that he wanted to get through it, and so I sat there next to him and held his hand while we continued to watch the movie.
He was better after that, and we made it through the movie. I'm not sure what happened after the movie; it didn't really matter, all that mattered was that we had watched the entire movie and he broke down only once.
They don't do coma shock therapy anymore, but it's enough to know it's a possibility.
I told him we could watch it together, that I would be there just in case. And so he brought the DVD over to my house, and we settled in to watch. He sat in his chair, the chair that was his when we were married, the chair that is still his as no one else except Dog uses it. Orvis himself has never sat in that chair, but always sits with me on the couch. I made myself comfortable on the couch, and in this position, I face away from him.
Occasionally, during the movie, I'd ask how he was doing, and he'd say he was doing fine. I reached back once or twice to take his hand, and he seemed calm.
Towards the end of the movie I heard him, a noise, a sound, and I realized he was sobbing, wretched heartbreaking sobs. I went to him and knelt in front of him, and I told him that I was there with him, that it would be okay, and asked if we should stop the movie. He said no, that he wanted to get through it, and so I sat there next to him and held his hand while we continued to watch the movie.
He was better after that, and we made it through the movie. I'm not sure what happened after the movie; it didn't really matter, all that mattered was that we had watched the entire movie and he broke down only once.
2 Comments:
At 3:33 AM,
Anonymous said…
I enjoyed reading your blog, as I have a relative who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia. It's good to know there are other families out there that deal with similar situations as I do. I found a book on Amazon.com that helped me through the tough times by reading about another family's ordeal (which was much worse than my own). The account of this family is incredible. I would highly recommend you read the book. It's called "The Northumberland Nightmare: When Justice Ignores Mental Illness". For your convenience, I have included a link in case you'd like to take a look at the book.
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0741418479/darrenw-20?creative=125581&camp=2321&link_code=as1
Yours sincerely,
~Daniel Bojtos
At 7:16 PM,
Monique said…
Thanks so much for the book recommendation! And thanks for reading . . . I think it's important to talk about these things (and I do love to talk) . . .
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