Within minutes an ambulance, a firetruck and two squad cars had come screaming up to the house and paramedics came running up the stairs.
By now, Charlotte was on her feet. All of these badges standing around made her feel panicked.
One of the paramedics said, "whatcha doing, trying to get a ride to the hospital?"
Charlotte really didn't know what she wanted, but she was in pain.
She heard one of the police officers talking into his radio. "Yeah, just a little fake suicide attempt here. We're going to get her down to Mercy to get checked out."
It was Charlotte's first time on a psychiatry floor. It was a weekend so the psychiatrist on call was one called out of retirement because the city had a shortage of psychiatrists.
She was in with Dr. Foster for about two hours and most of the time they spoke of her recent experience at her job and problems with concentration.
Charlotte told him that she sometimes would feel really "elated" and "out of her head" as a pre-teen and would climb up on roofs, remove clothing on a dare, stay up and call friends at all hours of the night, and then went through periods where she was in tears all the time and was despondent for no apparent reason, and that she had felt suicidal on several occasions during her teens.
Dr. Foster was most concerned with her problems concentrating and he prescribe Ritalin to help her with that.
After three more days in the hospital, Charlotte returned to work on the Ritalin.
When she arrived at work, her boss and a human resources representative were waiting for her.
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