Mental What?

Time goes by and the children are a bit older and I am getting the knack at motherhood. I can see a family now when there once was none. Our sixth move went well and getting readjusted into another ward wasn't difficult. The missionaries, elders and sisters, were over to our apt. seemingly all of the time.
The children were down for a nap when I got a phone call from the local hospital. The man on the other end informed me that my husband had been brought to the hospital by the local police. I couldn't believe my ears!
"But he's at work", I said in disbelief.
"No", the man stated, "Your husband is on the top floor in the psych ward."
"Could you come as soon as you can for a consultation with the doctor?", the man asked urgently.
The doctor informed me that Convert had been wandering around in the middle of a busy street and very disoriented.
Immediately I called my parents. I gave them a very brief description of the urgent situation and expressed my need of their assistance. They promptly drove one hour to get to where I was.
I got to the hospital and I couldn't get to the top floor fast enough. When I got to the nurses desk the doctor was there and he went into depth explaining the situation. I couldn't believe that my husband was in the psych ward. I had to see him. I followed the doctor to Converts room. I could see him asleep in the far bed in a ward of three beds. I sat down and took hold of his hand. I then said a silent prayer. The doctor continued to explain to me in detail how my husband needed to be in the State Mental Institution. "How does one react or respond to that kind of statement?", I thought to myself.
As it turned out, my husband didn't go to the state hospital. We moved again to a back room, remodeled garage of a female church members' home. Convert filed for disability and workers compensation. Another day, another ward.