Calling Chelsey

I found out a few days ago that I could call Chelsey at the hospital.  I wanted to talk to her, but I felt really reluctant to do it.  It made my stomach churn to think about calling.
I didn't want to touch this world she's in.  I didn't want our worlds to touch, I guess.  The idea felt painful and disorienting and uncomfortable.

I had to call 4 times before I could get through to her - I am assuming the phone is actually on the psych unit, and someone answered and then set down the phone, someone hung up as soon as they heard me ask for Chelsey, and then someone talked to me (mostly unintelligibly) for two minutes before hanging up.  When I did get to talk to her, Chelsey had to yell twice "I'm on the phone!  Stop it!" It was disconcerting to experience some of the chaos of her world right now.  

Even over the phone

But it was really, really good to talk to her.  
Unbelievably good.  


The first thing she said, after realizing it was me on the phone, was "I know now that I'm Chelsey Rogers."  When I paused for a minute, she said, "You see, I've been in a psych ward, and I've had to re-learn some things."  


But it was so good to hear her say that.  It was so good to know that she knows who she is, and what she's been going through.  


Much more than that, it was good to hear her interact with me in the same way and even to say some of the exact same things (like "Can you tell me a story?") with the exact same intonation I've heard so many times before.  It felt like I still have my sister, like I can still talk to her the way I always have before.  It felt so good.  


Aside from frequent retching, more assertiveness with people around her, and more self-disclosure about how she is feeling, this was the same as countless other conversations I've had with her.  
I feel like my parents took a bullet for me, having all the conversations and experiencing all of the behavior that has been so disorienting and heartbreaking.  They provided the stability and sanity, and found the support services, so that she could do what she needed to and be where she is today.  So I could have this conversation with her.   


And if I had to guess, I would guess some of these things will happen again (the nature of chronic illness).  At the very least, she's still in the psych ward for a few more days because they want to see a little more change before she comes home.  


But having this conversation made me feel like everything is okay.  If I can still interact with her in the way I'm used to, even if it's only sometimes, then everything is okay.  I still have Chelsey.  She's still my sister.  I still get to talk to her.  


We talked for a little while about how it's sad to realize you can't have some of your fantasies, but it's ok.  At the very end of our conversation, she said, "I just want to be Chelsey, the human (not the TRON computer program), and be home with Mom and Dad."

That's what I want, too.