I had a friend named Misti that had a gig as a carny. She would make pretty good money hustling people at the balloon popping booth at carnivals. Whenever she was working at a carnival, she would tell me to come out and play the booths for free. She was a great person with an enormous heart. She had been a methamphetamine addict for many years, but had managed to kick the habit. We met at a psychiatric hospital where we both worked together. We shared many interesting moments during our time together. I learned so much from her. I remember a time that we both were attempting to de-escalate a patient. The patient was 6'3, Vietnam vet diagnosed with PTSD, highly aggressive. We went into the TV room where he was arguing with another patient. He turned abruptly, picked up the large TV in the room, put it over his head and was about to throw it at us. My friend Misti and I directed him to put it down as we ran for cover. He did eventually put the TV down, but not before he gave us a really good scare. He could have snapped both of our necks with ease.
I thought of her today because I happened to be at a carnival. I kept looking around, hoping to see her again. However, she was not there.
Only her memory surrounded me.
