Bugs — Police Abuse of the Mentally Disabled

by Ellen L. Higgins 

      The social security cop keeps talking to me from the front seat. At first I feel compelled to answer, but he reminds me of ‘Eddie Haskell’[1]so I ignore him.  I am in a state of stun.  How did this happen? The handcuffs are cutting my wrist I rattle them repeatedly and the second cop stares at me.   I keep rattling.  I begin to feel my arms burn.   Peripheral neuropathy my good doctor calls it.  Ok now try to focus. The last meds I took were on the plane. With the time change its now fourteen hours…far too long. It must be 9:00 pm.  Sweat trickles down my forehead the salt burns my eyes. I blink rapidly and throw my head up and down.  Eddie is yakking at me again.  I can’t stand it.  I break my silence and ask for my medicine. Eddie ignores the question and keeps talking at me.

      I am starting to panic. Just stare at the floor don’t talk….don’t talk . Anger, rage, and fear are pulsing through making my brain circuits move faster and faster.  My thoughts are swirling in circles with each toss they are louder.   Keep quiet.  Just a bit further now and then they will give me my meds I’m sure of it.  This is America.

            It’s late at night.  I hear the car directional and feel the car slow.  Eddie walks me inside. He is carrying my plastic tote bag with my medicine. I am relieved.  I stand quietly before the desk sergeant.  He asks me routine questions.  I ask politely for my meds.  Eddie motions to the desk sergeant and whispers in his ear…’she’s a bug’.  I explode.  Screaming in my loudest stage whisper ‘If you want to know about my illness don’t ask him ask me.  I have not missed a med in 30 years…give them to me now!’   The sergeant jumped backwards at my outburst.  Somehow his reaction pleased me.  If I could scare this big burly guy maybe he would give me my pills to shut me up.