Pick up your friend at midnight when they say they need to be checked into a hospital or they'll kill themselves. Proceed to attempt to talk them out of it. They will continue to somewhat insist that they need medical attention, but refuse to be completely firm on the matter because they're afraid to 'burden' others. This will give you minor hope that you can go home without an incident. No such luck. You will give in after talking to them in the hospital parking lot for a half hour.

Subsequently, you will stay by their side for the six hour wait, one which has absolutely no entertainment except a blank wall. During this six hour wait, said friend will fall asleep because said friend has a bed to sleep on. But not you, True Friend™. You have but only your trusty plastic blue chair from hell, one that would give even the most fit of men a backache for weeks. You may manage to doze off once for ten minutes, but besides that, do not expect much! Your greatest accomplishment of the night will undoubtedly be finally remembering all the words to Master of Puppets.

An exhausted psychiatrist, an old guy whose only qualification seems to be 'being old', and a snobby nurse will all ask your friend the same generic questions, and she will give the same vague, avoidant answers, making you wonder why exactly you bothered in the first place. Ultimately, a psychiatrist will deem her mentally stable (if not completely apathetic) and give her the number to the local psyche ward to schedule an appointment, promptly sending her (and you) home.

But do not think of this as six hours wasted, True Friend™. Think of it as an excuse to get your sleep schedule back into nocturnal. And hey, I bet you've never appreciated a comfortable bed like you do right now!

PROTIP: Try to forget about the fact that the reason she was driven to near-suicide was the fact that her Craigslist Boyfriend broke up with her. The epic rage will eventually melt into sweet, sweet bitterness.