A visit to the ward...

I visit my husband every Saturday at the CNY Psych Center in Marcy, NY.  Visits start at 10am, they say, but it really depends on when they feel like coming to get us from the waiting room between 10 and 11.  First, I pull into the parking lot.  I have to lock up all my valuables in my glove box, then make sure that I have what I need to go in: my clear purse with money for the vending machines, my driver's license, and any package items he may need that week.  Then, I walk up to the first heavy door that buzzes and walk through.  I walk up to this glass bubble where a guard sits, waiting to ask me for my ID and who I am visiting through an intercom.  I pass my ID through a double door so he can see who I am and write down my address, time of arrival, and who I am to see.  Then he gives me back my ID, and tells me to proceed through the next heavy gate, which also buzzes.  Then there is a flight of stairs and two more locked doors that open automatically and lead to the conveyor belt and metal detectors.  My money, keys, ID and all package items go on the conveyor through the Xray machine, while I walk through the metal detector.  Then, one guard inside asks again for my ID while another looks through the package items and my money bag.  The guard hands me back my ID with a visitor badge that I must wear while walking through the halls, and keeps my keys in a bin to retrieve upon exiting.  Then, we get to wait for the visiting room staff to come and fetch us to the visiting room.  When I finally get through all the locked doors to the room (EVERY door is locked there), I have to wait for him to come downstairs.  I have to sign into a book with my name and address and who I am there to see.

After all of that, the moment arrives when he walks around the corner and smiles at me.  I get up out of my chair and throw my arms around him.  We hug, and kiss until the babysitters start clearing their throats.  Then we have until 2:45pm to eat, talk, laugh, play cards, enjoy each other and make plans for the week ahead.

Then they kick us out at 2:45 SHARP.  We then throw our arms around each other again, tell each other "I love you" a few more times, and then he cups my face in his hands and kisses me good enough to last the week.  And as we are led back through all the locked doors, I go numb trying not to cry, and am already looking forward to the following Saturday when I can hold him again.  Ad infinitum.  This is my life as an Article 10 wife.