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When we arrived at the front desk, the woman behind the counter greeted us. “Good morning, what can I do for you gentlemen today?”
I jerked my head to Wes. “He’d like to admit himself for treatment.”
She nodded and slid a packet of papers onto the counter between us. She explained a few things and asked Wes to answer the questions on the first page before they started any other procedures.
She handed him a pen, and I read the questions as he went.
He checked every box.
The really sad thing about it was—mentally, I also checked every box.
“Here you go,” Wes said, pushing the question sheet back to her.
“Great, thank you. Just let me take this to the back. Is there anything I can get for you while you wait?”
I took the biggest, deepest breath I ever had. “Yeah, I’d like to admit myself as well.”
