THIS DISHWATER BLONDE NEEDS HER MEDS NOW!!!!

I work in a mental health facility. I answer the phones, check in clients (not patients because therapists aren't doctors), schedule appointments, take crisis calls, and sometimes defuse volital situations. If you will humor me and draw a square right now . . . yes, just do it . . .now draw a small square inside the square . . . the small square is the reception area in the building. Now back to mental health. For the most part, the people who come in are not at a crisis point, they just need some assistance getting through a situation. But others are a little different - like the women we were seeing for the first time who said, "Hello . . . I can go from nice to bit@& in two seconds, or the man who slammed his hands on the counter and said, "I need my meds NOW!", or the man who told me Elvis was a dishwater blonde . . . five times in our short but sweet conversation. These can be crisis situations. We have clients who are attending SA groups, some are being re-intigrated back into society from prison, clients who are attending anger management groups, and foster care! So . . . back to my night. I work Monday and Tuesday from 3:00pm to 8:00pm. I close the building and am usually the last one there . . .it can be a little creapy because you never know if a dishwater blonde who thinks he is Elvis might be hanging around outside! Plus on the back side of the building is Medication Management . . . alot of drugs for alot of different mental things . . . I start my routine at 8 sharp - I lock the front door, head down the long haul that has combination controlled doors to check the exterior doors, out one back in another - all are locked - close all doors that are considered fire barriers, lock all offices that remain open, lock medical records and then lastly lock up reception. Last Tuesday night, I was making a boatload of copies for our CFO and realized that I really messed up a stack. Knowing I was going to have to stay late and her office was open for me to put copies in, I locked myself in reception to finish the task. It dawned on me that the copies that were missing, I may have put in her office so I dashed out the reception door . . .bare feet cause my pointy toed shoes were killing me. Grabbed the door right before it closed and thought, "Wow that was close! Reached around to pop the little button out and ran down the haul to her office (which I might add is a huge disaster!) to see if I layed copies down on her desk. Nope, so I headed back to reception, got to the door . . . yes, pretty stinking predictable! It's locked! And a blast from the past came out of my mouth as my mother used to always say, "Son of a buck!" I have NO KEYS, NO SHOES, NO PURSE, NO CELL PHONE! Not only am I locked out of Reception, but I'm locked in the building! Completely embarrassed and thinking that I DO NOT want someone to have to come get me, I go back to the CFO's office looking for the phone list so I can call someone to tell me where a master key is stashed. She has NO PRINTED COPY of the company phone list, I can not log onto her computer, but oh, wait . . . the Admin Assistant has a huge dish of keys on her desk. Not like a little candy dish, this is a mashed potato bowl! Boolya! I take the dish back to the Reception door and try EVERY key. Even the key that is too small, just because now, I'm thinking I may need to schedule a therapy appointment. None fit. I sit down at her desk, because I'm so new, I don't even have the Center number memorized and start shuffling through her papers. Looking for the logo of the Center, a phone number ANYTHING! I finally decided at 8:30pm that I needed to call the hubba-dub and let him know what I'd done. He gave me the number, laughing and when I dialed it, because it was after hours my two options were- Leave a Message - or press #2 for the Crisis Line. Lovely. I pressed #2. The woman answers and I tell her this isn't really a crisis but could turn into one if someone doesn't let me out of the building. Explained who I was, what I'd done and as she is laughed and she gave me our therapists number who is the ER On Call for that night. I called Michelle and she gave me the CFO's number, who NEVER answered her phone - even after I started crying and said wouldn't she just answer her stinking phone on her voicemail! Then I called back and Michelle gave me the Admin Assistant's number and she NEVER answered her phone. I think she got a tyraid about how there is not a stinking master key stashed anywhere. So then I called Michelle back . . . told her I was now in Crisis. I'd gone from nice to b!&%$, needed my meds NOW and was wondering what color my hair really was. She went down the entire phone list, calling people with master key's who could come out to unlock the building for me. She called me back . . . Jason was coming but it would be 20 minutes. Fine . . . just get me out of the building! So as I waited, I positioned myself in the hall where I could see three of the five doors. All I managed to hear were doors opening and closing! I had to pee so bad but I wasn't about to go into that bathroom, and not be able to see those exits! Jason showed up, he saw the mascara all over my face and just started laughing. I thought I needed a therapy session right there! I didn't even finish what I was doing. I got my purse, put on my shoes, shut the place up AGAIN and left. In a 45 minute time I experienced- shock, panic, frustration, anger, fear, relief and then exhaustion. Oh and momentary hysteria! I called the hubba-dub to tell him I was free and drove home in a daze. Best nights sleep I've gotten in a while! Blessings~ P.