I try hard to stay focused as I tell you this story, but you will notice that I regress from time to time, my thoughts and actions becoming child- like. My doctor has noticed, and is considering moving me from a hospital to private care facility...

"I want my mommy! Oh, momma, why? I..."

I certainly can afford the expensive private care facilities, my long- dead father left me and my mother lots of money.

"I miss you so much, Momma."

Sometimes I can remember my regressive periods, but I usually don't. The doctor feels that I'm regressing back to an early childhood stage, between ages five and seven, as a way of coping with my loss. That I've been focusing on a time that I felt safe, protected from the world in my mother's loving arms.

"Momma, I love you. I need you. Where are you?"

He's found out about Mom and I. About our "special" relationship. "I tried, Momma! I tried not to tell him. I tried to keep it our little secret."

But I think I let it out during a particularly bad regressive phase. The doctor seemed to think that my momma was abusing me. That pissed me off. So naturally I defended her to him. Damn know-it-all doctor, I.. Oh, here's the nurse with my medication.

"Here you are, sweetheart." the nurse says.
She hands me my pills and water and makes sure I swallow it down.
"How are you feeling, sweetie? You alright this morning?"
I nod my head and force a pained smile.
"Okay, your breakfast will be here in about an hour, sweetie. I'll see ya later."
The nurse leaves my room and I am alone again. She doesn't release that every time she uses a sugar-coated adjective in place of my name, she reminds me of my mama and cuts me to the quick.

I can feel the quick-acting medication begin its effects. It calms me down, allowing me to accept things nonchalantly. Its effects seem to vary from day to day, sometimes working really well, sometimes not so good. I think I'm okay, now. If I seem to drift back to child-like thoughts, please just bear with me. It shouldn't be too bad. You may notice that I spell one frequently used word "Mama" or "Momma." I don't know why; don't let it bother you. I guess it's just part of my "happy eccentricity." It's good to have a sense of humor, the doctor says. I wish I had one. Anyway, let's get on with my story........(cont)