bathed in the blood of the lamb

"If I lost my husband tomorrow, I could go on. Because as much as I love my husband, Katherine, and I do, Lord knows how I love Robert, I love God more!" I was looking at this little twig of a girl. She was all earnestness and sincerity. I wondered how they were taught this stuff. Was it like a training seminar? Maybe they went to church on Sunday and sat at desks and took notes about how to seize any possible opportunity to push the agenda. Her features were prominent; chin, cheekbones, nose, forehead. Her head was large on her tiny twiggy body. She was Southern. I knew it before I ever heard her speak, or asked her where she was from. Her features were Southern. I know that sounds impossible to non-Southerners, but we can spot each other. There are certain chin and cheekbone combinations, certain nose shapes, hair textures and body types that tip off a Southern person. There are also style cues. A Southern person has a tendency to wear a little more jewelry than others. There are certain makeup palettes in combination with hairstyles and haircolors that will tip off a native Southerner. A native of Dixie wears a strange mix of designer labels, mall wear and Wal-mart. For example, Summer was wearing the latest Pumas, Abercrombie and Fitch jeans, a Tiffany's pendant, a Zale's platinum wedding set and an oversize t-shirt straight out of one of those plastic bag multi-packs from the men's "Fruit of the Loom" display. She looked all of 13 years old with her glasses, braces and scrubbed face. She was actually 29 and a mother of two little girls, Ashley and Caitlin. She had met her husband at church, of course. She was a graduate student at a local faith based university. She was on the unit for taking an overdose of infant tranquilizers(?), carving "SLUT" into her arm and running through her upper middle class neighborhood completely nude.
Summer told us she was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She had been raped repeatedly throughout her childhood by a mysterious person she wouldn't identify. She told us her parents didn't believe her. She claimed to have started to have flashbacks of the abuse when her oldest child turned five, the age Summer was when the alleged abuse began.
She was on the unit when I arrived. She was extremely extroverted and talkative. At that time, Dave was the only man on the unit. Summer was very affectionate to Dave. She would ask him if he'd like a hug, and then oblige full-on; the length of her body smack up against him with her head tucked under his chin, the side of her face semi-buried in his Hawaiian print polo shirt. She'd sit next to him on the couch with her leg firmly pressed against his, place her hand on his arm for emphasis as she spoke, etc. Now, in his day, I am sure Dave pulled quite a bit of tail. From the back, Dave still retained an outline of a once athletic physique. When he turned around he looked about 7 months pregnant. He had a modified graying mullet and a mustache that was probably hot in '84. The heroin and alcohol had ravaged his face. His nose was somewhat bulbous and inflamed and he had no teeth. None. He had been down for so long that his face was permanently droopy. His shoulders were covered in dandruff flakes. This is not a man one is eager to get all hugged up with.
She delighted in telling each new patient and any unit employee who hadn't heard about running nude through her neighborhood. She always concluded, "Don't you think if somebody was running nude through your neighborhood and was detained by police and firemen, that you or somebody would have the decency to cover them with a coat or blanket? Nobody covered me! Half the neighborhood came out of their houses to see what the commotion was about. Not one person thought to bring me a blanket, a robe, a towel...anything!"
Summer's mother came up during visiting hours to bring her a few necessities. Her mother was an aging pageant perfect platinum blonde with a deep tan. Her make-up was stage ready. Her hair was pure Texas anchorwoman. It could have withstood Katrina. Had only the New Orleans levees been fortified with as much fixative as that coif. She was wearing Escada Sport from head to ankle; all chocolate brown and skin tight. Her shoes were a moderately priced trouser boot with a high, but sturdy heel(southern style cue). Her stomach was as flat as a board and her breasts were closer to her chin than her navel. She wore yellow gold (another style tip-off) in abundance. The diamond in her engagement ring was at least two carats and flashed from across the room. The "few necessities" she brought filled an entire suitcase and a large shopping bag. They were mostly grooming products and hair styling implements; hairdryer, flat iron, curling iron, large round brush, all manner of hairsprays, mousses, gels, etc. There was a bottle of perfume, a large makeup case with a portable lighted mirror and expensive bath products. All of these items were in glass or contained glass (the makeup case's mirror), so they were strictly prohibited. Many of the implements were nixed due to their electrical cords. Some of the products were refused due to their contents. Anything containing alcohol or chemicals that could be huffed was not allowed. Of all the items brought in by Summer's beauty pageant veteran mother, very few passed inspection. Summer and her mother were very put out by the staff's refusal. Every time the unit nurse handed an item back to the mother and said, "No." Summer and her mother would protest. "You mean I can't have my hair dryer?... to dry my hair?... really?...Gosh!" Her mother would echo her, "...A hair dryer?...to dry her hair?...No?...My Goodness!" I think they thought if they stated the intended purpose of the item, the nurse would relent and let them have it, "Oh, you mean a hairdryer is for drying your hair? All this time the administration thought it was used solely for the purpose of committing suicide with the cord. Now that you've cleared that up for us, by all means, take it in. And the small firearm as well, it's alright. Everybody needs protection."