The hospital Avner moved from emergency to the pediatric floor on that Friday afternoon. Avner arrived at the hospital early in the morning after a difficult evening, still asleep and unable to cooperate, nonverbal and resisting attempts to examine him.
Avner would become mute and disconnected from everything else around him. On one occasion, he left the Scout House to sit on a bench outside. When our Scoutmaster, Crill and I tried to speak to him, he refused to acknowledge us. I tried to get him into my car at the end of the meeting. Instead, he got up and started walking towards home, only a mile away. I called Barbara from the Scout House to let her know that Avner was walking home. He walked past her which worried us both, but eventually turned around and came inside.
Rural Georgia is no place to have a medical emergency on a weekend. The only hospital is small. The emergency staff was sparse and equipment was minimal. The first task after providing insurance information and identification was getting someone to offload Avner from the bus onto a gurney.
This night owl stuff had to stop. Not only wasn’t Avner waking in the morning. He was potentially violent when we tried to wake him. He would lash out with hands or if someone was at his feet, he would kick. At the same time, it was evident that Avner was waking at night to eat. Sometimes, he would deny it. We would find plates and bowls under his bed, along with sport drink bottles. On one occasion, he even drank most of a bottle of maple syrup.
As we got closer to home, a car in front of us stopped to wait for a break in oncoming traffic. I stopped a safe distance behind. Seconds later, the rear windshield exploded, showering everyone with glass.