Monday, November 19, 2007

14 days

Well my toothpick legs are still toothpicks, but brown now, after two weeks of lying in the manicured grass of the inpatient unit. They say I look healthier. Maybe it's the freckles.

Woken for meds at 8am, we'd stumble around the unit, sometimes still pajamaed until the night rolled around again, a coffee in one hand and a never ending ciggy in the other. There were eleven beds. Eleven different faces. A businessman, a schoolteacher, a gang member, some rich, but more often broke, some beautiful, some who once were.

I read and read and read. Climbed through a trapdoor in my head, curled tight in imaginary worlds. Had a stack of books, and a boyfriend bringing me more each day.
But the stories told over shakily rolled cigarettes, shared between sore bodies awkward on cheap plastic furniture, sun in our eyes and wind in our hair despite the high glass walls, they tumbled out, like words in a book never can. No novelist's need to be inventive. The sour fear, stupid risks taken, pale excuses, families lost, deaths of course- sudden and slow, the blame, longing that gnaws, the emptiness of loneliness, well, we laughed and laughed until our stomachs hurt. There wasn't much else we could do.

10 Comments:

Anonymous shaun said...

god that sounds awful. i tried, recently. not comparable i know, i am just on done. but i had access to some mushrooms. so i used said mushrooms, it works good. but i gave up. it for sure was not from laughing too much. i am too weak to face depression.

I am glad for you though. I really liked the post of boyfriend with accent added. very much reminded me of reading steinbeck.

seeya and hoping for you ...

3:27 AM  
Blogger Chris said...

Hello, you have a wonderful blog, but I can't find your email address, can you please contact me? I have something to discuss with you
Regards, Chris
(Please can you delete this comment after your decision?)

4:31 AM  
Blogger Michelle's Spell said...

Hi Tui,

Glad you're back! Love the lines about the pale excuses, etc. And the end, of course. Take care!

10:02 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

All the best Tui
Kate

6:29 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

woohoo?

7:26 PM  
Blogger Dizzy Dee said...

It sounds like a tranquilizing experience. Just spending time to get rid of all the gunge - I need this emotionally and mentally.

We all have addictions, just in different variantions.
Mine doesn't cost in $$, but my days gets swallowed whole sometimes.

2:27 AM  
Blogger flic said...

except fill those stomachs with hospital food.

4:50 PM  
Blogger Gledwood said...

least you got meds at 8am sharp

i remember having to wait till 10am in one place

"run for the benefit of the staff not inmates" is the phrase i think i'm looking for

12:27 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Tui,

Hope you're doing well, haven't seen you around on opio lately. Hope you're doing alright. Much love, sadly I'm switching from my 150mg oxy a day to 120mg morphine and 30mg oxy a day due to cost reasons UNLESS I can convince the doc to write 30mg roxi's at 5 a day. maybe maybe, but I'd give up all this damn chronic pain in exchange for the drugs.


Hope you're staying healthy and safe.

-Synack

3:18 AM  
Blogger IVY said...

love the way you describe such peculiar things... such in between things... you truly see the world in your own way and i love it..well in this one you describe how strange the humor can be in rehab... what would a bunch of shaking people who want their usual drug laugh about? and you describe it as usual with an emphasis on what is lost..always an emphasis on what is lost wherever you go no?
sorry if i'm totally off

8:01 AM  

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