Julie’s Marriage

Dr. Paysinger dismissed me, September 6, 1975, as my last post-operative appointment for I was “doing exceedingly well” and had, when tested, no sensory or motor deficit. I was playing a lot of tennis, doing most of my house and yard work, and feeling great!

Julie and Tim S. were married May 29, 1976, right after Julie’s graduation from college, and I, at last, got to wear my “mother-of-the-bride gown with shoes dyed to match”!

The bridal luncheon had been given earlier that day by Jack’s mother, Julie’s grandmother, and as a thank-you for being in her wedding, Julie took this opportunity to give each of her bridesmaids a little gift. When a small package was handed to me also, I was taken aback and very surprised. This must be a mistake! I was not a bridesmaid! In my bewilderment, I opened the gift… four little gold beads on a gold chain… with this message inside:

This is to celebrate
The miracle of your recovery.
These 4 beads represent
The love from your 4
Children. We appreciate
All you’ve given.
Love,
Julie

Four little beads… my four precious children…
exactly two years since the brain tumor. I immediately loved the gift… and wear the little necklace all the time. It has become a part of me. I will treasure it always. I knew this was to be Julie’s “special time” with her wedding, but I was finding it to be a very “special time” for me, also. It was hard to hold back the tears.

Baptist Hospital

Monday, April 29, 1974 with Eleanor’s wedding just one month away I saw Dr. Huggins a third time. It had already been decided, without my knowledge, that I was to enter the Baptist Hospital in Columbia the next day, “now that my diagnosis of depression had been confirmed.” Jack, after having been assured that “it would be the best thing for Ashlyn and that she would be feeling much better in time for Eleanor’s wedding”, signed a paper giving his permission to go ahead with treatment.

So, I was admitted to the Baptist Hospital on Tuesday, April 30… not really knowing why or what was going on. Unable to think well enough to even question, I was just doing what I was told to do. I was led up to the ninth floor and through two big, heavy doors which slammed shut behind me. And I was locked in.

What’s Wrong?

It all started in the fall of 1973… I was 46 years old. The medication described by the Orangeburg County Mental Health Department didn’t seem to be helping me. I didn’t understand why I was depressed. I had no reason to be. I had married a loving husband after my graduation from Duke University and we had had four precious children, three daughters and a son, and were soon to have a son-in-law. What was wrong? I knew something was! But I didn’t know what.

Eleanor, our oldest daughter, had already set her wedding date for June 1, 1974, to be right after her graduation from Columbia College. I was trying hard to go to the bridal parties given for her during her Christmas holidays, but my general slowness in everything I did and my inability to cope with everyday situations was becoming more and more distressing to me… and my family. At times my mind would just go blank in the middle of a sentence and I wouldn’t be able to remember what I had started saying. As the wedding date drew nearer Eleanor chose the gowns she wanted her bridesmaids to wear and I, already finding it hard to make decisions, took far too long deliberating on which gown to wear as the mother-of-the-bride. Finally, I chose a pale green one… and later had my shoes dyed to match.

My condition steadily worsened. By late March, 1974, I was referred, by my family physician, to a psychiatrist, a Dr. K. Huggins in Columbia, SC for psychiatric evaluation… and treatment, if needed. I was given an appointment for April 1.

At the session, Dr. Huggins asked me some questions. Yes, I had already been on medication prescribed to me by the Orangeburg Mental Health Department. Yes, I had lost both my father in 1970 and then my mother in 1972. And, yes, I had felt so terribly frustrated cleaning out their large attic, trying to decide what to do with all of their many things. Should I throw this away… or not? Maybe I could use this myself… but where? … This to go to the Orangeburg Historical Society… or would they even want it? Give this to one of the children… but which child? So many decisions! Dr. Huggins wanted to see me again in two weeks. Before I left I was given a second appointment for April 17.