Memoir installment #24

In which my situation begins to improve

The gatehouse at Sheppard Pratt

The drive to Baltimore went by fast—when you're in no hurry to get to your destination, the trip always goes quickly—and I was good and zoned out for most of it. I slept a little, chatted with Ariel a little, and snuggled with my dog Weetzie, who’d come along for the ride at my insistence. I stared out at the strip malls and factories that line the ugly, boring road between New York and Baltimore.  

Sooner than I might have liked, we arrived at our destination. It was a beautiful old hospital with a history—Fitzgerald finished Tender is the Night in Baltimore, while Zelda convalesced there, for starters. And the unit I was on was quite nice. A social worker greeted me and showed me my room—it was big, with a TV and DVD player, and the bathroom was lovely too, although it (obviously, given the locale) had no bathtub. The whole place looked like a slightly sterile but decent bed and breakfast, only with a nurse's station.