When I was first hospitalized in 1971 at 14, in a place that took the “fun” out of “dysfunctional,” I prayed nightly for a White Knight to come to my rescue. But that young boy waited in vain.

When I was hospitalized in 1981, at 24, in a place where the charge nurse fell in love with me and took me out of the hospital against medical advice, I prayed nightly for a Knight on a White Stallion to come and save me. But it never happened for that young man.

Three weeks ago I was hospitalized at 55, at Fairview Riverside, and my former “jailers” had somehow become my “Angels.” And now, crawling death-quick into middle age, my White Knights DID come, but they wore White Coats.

With thanks to my dear friend, Delores