Writer's Note: Thank you, my sassy readers, for joining me on this journey through hell. I loved your comments and appreciated every kind word.
Jenelle is super pissed because Bahhbrahh and Mike "barged in" to her home yesterday for an intervention. "I've been having this sick feeling," Bahhbrahh tells Mike. "There they are, high as a kite, layin' there in bed." Mike notes that he saw a little bag and a syringe -- proof that Jenelle has moved from weed to heroin. "I just cannot even comprehend how in the world would she ever do this?" Bahhbrahh says, voice quivering. With clear eyes and a troubled heart, she looks at Mike, as if she's searching for the strength to make her next statement. She takes a deep breath and says she's going to the magistrate in the morning, and will attempt to get her daughter committed.
"She doesn't have to speak to me the rest of my life, but if I can do this and save her life, then I will." She looks down, devastated. This person she brought into the world is on the brink of leaving it ... and she's powerless to stop the cycle of destruction. That must be an awful realization, but I'm glad it's one she has finally come to. Their relationship may be ruined, but you know the nice thing about being detested by someone? It means they're still alive to hate you.
Over at Jenelle's, she and Kieffer obsess over their unwanted visitors. "They need to be punished for what they did," Kieffer says angrily. "I ain't never forced drugs on you, I ain't never put drugs in your face or tried to get you to do them," Kieffer says as some demented defense of his influence in her life. "It's hard to stay sober because I wanna get high." There's a lot I'm concerned about right now, but one thing weighs especially heavy on my mind: If Kieffer's too drugged up to whittle his special pipes, then how long must his customers wait for their special smoking accessory? Did you know that every minute, three people in America are wishing they were holding an "exotic marblewood" bubbler?
Eventually, Bahhbrahh makes good on her promise to see the magistrate. She looks blotchier and more disheveled than normal when she leaves, and immediately calls Mike on the world's largest purple phone. (I am pretty sure her first call was actually to "Saved by the Bell," wondering if Zach had a spare charger laying around.) She informs Mike that the magistrate will be going to Jenelle's house to check things out. What's done is done. Now, she must wait for the fallout.
When the cops eventually come to Jenelle's house, she's forced to to go the hospital for a psychological evaluation. It doesn't do much good, because they can't hold her, and she's released three hours later. Though she's frustrated that she had to get undressed, she did enjoy having her own TV in the hospital room. "I'm still going to stay loyal to my family and not press charges," Jenelle says stoically as Kieffer plans his legal attack. Jenelle knows that standing by Kieffer will mean she won't be able to see Jace, but she's made her choice ... and her choice just so happens to be the guy who supplies her with drugs.
Bahhrbrahh is slapped with trespassing, and Mike gets trespassing and assault. Bahhbrahh's horrified, and mentions that even the sheriff laughed when he handed her the order. Still, she could be held in contempt if she doesn't go to court, and there's nothing funny about that. "How could she do this to me, her mother?" she says, crying openly. "I am sick abouht all this. I have lost her. She's GONE. She's going to lose her life," she sobs. "That's how it is."
With that, Jace climbs into his grandma's lap and asks to go to mommy's house. "Mommy has an awful sickness," Bahhbrahh says truthfully. "We don't want you to catch it."
Back at Jenelle's house, she and Kieffer are so high they can barely walk or talk. We've never seen them in a state this awful or upsetting. Kieffer's eyes are half open, and he's staggering around like a drunk cro-mag looking for something to butcher. "I think everything will work out," Jenelle slurs as she falls into a stupor on the couch. "Everything's ... really ... going ... to ... be ... alright," Kieffer says slowly, as he loses the ability to hold his head up.
There's nothing glamorous about losing consciousness, nothing sexy about wasting away in a home you're about to be evicted from.
After four seasons of this show, it's obvious that the only reality check Jenelle's gotten has been the direct deposit kind. Recently, Jenelle was arrested for possession of heroin and assaulting her husband. I must admit, every time I see her name, I worry that it's going to be attached to an obituary. Here's hoping that she chooses life.
Before Ali's big doctor's appointment, Leah and Jeremy take some time for a date at Chocoholique, a local chocolate shop that makes light of a very serious addiction to cacao. In honor of the special dessert event, Leah dyes a chunk of her bangs dark brown. It's a small touch that most viewers probably overlooked, but I appreciated it.
Over their treats, Leah lays out the details of the next few days, and worries that Aleeah will resent her sister for the "special treatment" she is getting of late. She feels Aleeah is acting out as a result, and worries that things will get even worse after they're apart for a three days. (Aleeah will be sent to live with someone named Joetta while the rest of the family is at the hospital, which is frightening mostly because Joetta stopped being a real name in 1917, and I picture anyone with this name living in a tree stump.)
At the hospital, Ali is put through a battery of basic tests, the most painful of which feels like the snapping of a rubber band. When the results are finally in, Leah seems confused. The doctors say that Ali will eventually walk, but "the way that Ali wants to walk. It may not look like how we walk."
Eventually, Dr. Tsao says that all signs point to a muscle disorder -- probably mitochondiral disease -- but they can't know more until they do a muscle biopsy. "There's hope," he says as he leaves. They're finally close to the diagnosis they've wanted for three years ... but that could mean facing some incredibly frightening truths. "Don't get online and look it up," Leah warns her family. "She's got so many things right with her," Corey's dad says positively. "She's so smart. She couldn't get any purdier, and she's a sweet little thing." Leah listens, basking in the glow of the kind words -- but she knows something's not right with her baby, and now she's in too deep to pretend everything's OK.
The morning of Ali's muscle biopsy, her parents worry incessantly on her behalf. It's a blessing that Ali doesn't understand what's about to happen, and I bet Corey wishes this was like the rest of his life, which he doesn't fully understand. Though they don't want to cry and make Ali nervous, Corey's tears go rogue and stream down his face. He's not the smartest tool in the shed (honestly, I'm not even sure he could locate the shed), but if there was a Mensa for big hearts, he'd deserve a spot.
It's worth noting that while Jeremy isthere, he remains in the waiting room. It's a small, perhaps unconscious gesture of deference to Corey, and I applaud him for allowing Leah and Corey to act as the family they once were, before divorce complicated things.
Meanwhile, back in the pre-op space, the anesthesiologist does his best to make everything sound a bit less scary -- but it's tough to make sedation sound like spring break. Since only one parent can be in the ER when Ali goes under, Leah nominates herself. After all, it's become obvious that she can control her emotions better than poor, soggy Corey.
Though a Xanax would do Leah and Corey a world of good, it's Ali who gets a liquid happy pill to calm her ... and that backfires pretty much immediately. She goes from happy to hysterical in one fell swoop and screams pitifully until they somehow get her to swallow. (Side note: How would someone acquire that syringe of flowing happiness outside of the hospital? Asking for an anxious friend.)
As Leah pulls on the sterile jump suit (my ER nurse BFF calls it a "johnny") and booties, she turns it into a comedy routine for Ali. "Doesn't momma look funny?" she asks as she dances around like a character from the little known "Doogie Howser, M.D." and "Yo Gabba Gabba" spinoff called "Yo, I'm Doogie Howser." Her slapstick baby comedy works like a charm, and Ali is incredibly amused instead of frightened.
Finally, they head over to the ER and disappear behind the heavy doors. Outside, Corey paces. Inside, things seem to go smoothly (there's no cameras allowed, per usual). We hear Leah give Ali a kiss for luck, and then her job is done.
The second she walks out, she finally lets herself break down. "She looked over at me and she smiled real big," she says between sobs.
After surgery, Ali's groggy and scared, but doing fine. Though she's half asleep, she gets a burst of energy to say "I love you" and melt every heart in the room. She looks like a tiny celeb with mediocre fashion sense as she leaves the hospital in her white fuzzy jacket. That Ali girl is a real trooper.
We never find out what she's struggling with, but with the love of her family and the obvious determination in her little baby eyes, Ali will be taking on the world in no time ... at a run.
Though Kailyn still dreams of a big wedding, she decided to make an appointment at the court house so that she and Javi can make things legal before he heads out to training. "We're going to get married tomorrow afternoon," she tells Javi as soon as he gets home. "I know this is a huge step after just being engaged a few days ago," she notes. Though Javi's a little stunned (perhaps he's worried about how Kailyn will ever manage to cover the zit that sitting squarely in the middle of her head), he's excited. "Let's go pick out some sexy socks for me to wear," he says excitedly, because "pick out some socks" is probably some kinky gateway joke to teen pregnancy.
On the big day, Kailyn looks adorable in her casual white dress. Isaac, worried that nobody is exercising their God-given abilities to accessorize, decides to rock his "Toy Story" cowboy hat. After a 20-minute ceremony, everyone is crying (Kailyn's just so happy, Isaac's angry that juice has not materialized) -- and while Kailyn and her new hubby try to take a photo, Jo randomly calls her. She doesn't pick up, but it's a strange coincidence, almost like a foreshadowing of her future: Whatever she does, Jo will somehow be involved. Their decision to have a child means their lives are inextricably woven together, for better or for worse ... even if he's not the one who heard "I do."
Since Kailyn and Jo missed their last therapy appointment, they decide to hang out at the ironically-named Borderline Restaurant. Gonna go ahead and say you may not want to eat somewhere that's defined as "not fully classified as one thing or its opposite," but the teen moms aren't exactly known for their taste in food or men.
Speaking of borderline, Kailyn and Jo's relationship is similarly "characterized by psychological instability in several areas." Kailyn waits until Jo isn't mid-onion ring to drop her greasy bomb: She and Javi got married. Though he's probably stunned, he keeps a straight face. "I see -- it's all about the money," he says when she mentions the health benefits that come from their union. "I know it's the right thing for me," she says, looking away like someone who's not sure it's the right thing for her. "I just hope it's the right thing for you in five years, or 20," Jo says practically.
Back at home, Javi tells Kailyn that he'll be shipping off in a few days. Though he's going to boot camp for eight weeks and will be gone for about five months, he's got a huge grin on his face. "It's definitely sad that I'm going to be missing all the important stuff," he says with that same weird look. Maybe he smiles so he doesn't cry ... or maybe I've just seen too many Nicholas Sparks movies ... or wait, now he's crying, so I guess I was right.
As they say goodbye, Isaac gives Javi a good luck charm to keep next to his bed. His mom blesses him, and his brother wraps him in a hug. It's all too much for Javi, and eventually, he and Kailyn break into sobs. "It'll be over before we know it," she says with a shaky but determined voice. "Please take care of the dogs," he says as they embrace. It's meant to break the tension, but it doesn't work. There's no making light of the moment, no silly words that can lift the gloom that's enveloping them. As he disappears into his recruiter's office, his family nearly floods the parking lot with their tears.
Hard as it is to say goodbye, let's look on the bright side: He's leaving behind a group of people who love him ... and they'll be loving him when he returns.
After a very productive leave of absence, Chelsea is finally poised to return to beauty school. She's a bit nervous, so she calls friend Brittany over for moral support, and so she can feel instantly better about her own teeth-to-gums ratio.
Since she stayed up pretty late the night before, Chelsea decides not to return to school as planned. Because she's too frightened to call and tell her dad, she decides to take the high road and make her toddler say it. "Mommy ... schoool ... not," Aubree explains. She really has a way with words, that one.
To ensure that history doesn't repeat itself (or sleep in), Chelsea goes to bed early the next night and gets up on time. Though she's bright eyed and bushy tailed the next day, Aubree's not her best self -- perhaps she's tired of being a pawn in her mommy's game, or maybe she's just straight up tired, 'cause she locks herself in Chelsea's room and goes back to sleep. Chelsea's so concerned that she spends a full two minutes trying to free her child before focusing on curling her hair.
After finally dropping Aubree off at Truks-N-Tykes, the daycare where children learn how to dodge huge vehicles and fill tanks up with diesel, Chelsea finally gets to Black Hills. She gets back into the swing of things, which, at beauty school, means grabbing a mannequin head and subjecting it to an upsetting treatment that will result in bullying when it goes back on the rack.
Later, fab dad Randy comes over for a serving of pie and reality. "You probably grew up more in the past year than you did in the first 20," he says honestly. "Once I got rid of what's-his-name ..." Chelsea says, trailing off. "Remember he gave me a promise ring and then we broke up the next week?" They take a moment to thank the lord of L'oreal in hair heaven that Adam is out of their lives.
That's all folks. If you like "Real Housewives of New Jersey," please join me as I recap that in June.