Sunday, 4 May 2008
Rehab - "Day 4 in Rehab"
Rehab, 4 April 2008...
The clock just struck 06:00 and I’ve already walked into two different walls… or was that… four. Our three days of sedated shuttling has come to an end and we get to move upstairs. I take my things up with me but I’m still so disorientated from the medicine that I keep bumping into stuff.
Ashok (Indian Druggie) is also moving upstairs, but luckily not into the same room as me. He seems unaffected by the three days in detox. It is a pity, really. It is just obvious that some people are not here to get better; then again that was almost me! His religion has their church on Fridays and he tries to get out of the gates to go to church. Of course, with his dealer around the corner I hardly think he planned church as his only stop. Luckily his request is denied.
According to the rules of the clinic drug talk isn’t allowed just as we aren’t allowed to listen to certain radio stations or music channels – they make us crave. I was standing in the tuck-shop queue today with Matt* when I realized I wasn’t the only one affected by Ashok’s drug talk.
Matt* is also in the clinic for heroin. He came in on the same day as me and we shared a room with Ashok. I know we did talk over the past few days but the medicine has me so disorientated that I don’t recall much of it. While talking to him today I realize that my moving out of the room left him at the mercy of Ashok’s Insomniac Mouth.
Since Ashok didn’t stop when we politely asked him, we decided to report the matter. He got called into the office and given a warning. Astonishingly, it appeared as if his attitude changed after he got the warning. He stopped the drug talk and for the first time it actually looked as if he wanted to get help. I would have liked to do it differently, but I guess the ending justified the means!
"Day 4 in Rehab"
"Day 3 in Rehab"
Saturday, 3 May 2008
Rehab - "Day 3 in Rehab"
Rehab, 3 April 2008...
The third day is always a bit better. However slight it might me, there is always a minor relief from the agonising pain of the day before. When I opened my eyes this morning I knew immidiately things were going to be better today. I was going to make sure of it.
Ashok (Indian Druggie) is out of his bed when I wake up but he soon returns and starts yet another drug conversation with me. I decide that if I have any chance of staying this positive I have to get away from him and his constant drug talk. I arrange to move to the room next door and immediately feel at home there. I am greeted by Darrell* with one of those welcoming smiles that would make any stranger feel totally at home. I met him the day before but I wasn’t really talkative then. I only had one thing on my mind. If I could break into the Medicine room and clear out the Schedule 5-7 cabinet – I would have done it.
That was yesterday. Today, Darrell and I are talking. As I get to know him I realize how similar our stories are, as if we both traveled the road to hell and could draw you a map to get there. I don’t believe in co-incidence. I believe everything happens for a reason, sometimes you see the reason, and other times you miss it completely. I wasn’t sure yet what the events of the past few days meant or why I was in this room today. All I knew was for the first time since I was here I had hope. Not even hope that I could beat it, I think there was way too much work still for that, but hope that I actually wanted to beat it!
"Day 2 in Rehab"
Friday, 2 May 2008
Rehab - "Day 2 in Rehab"
Rehab, 2 April 2008...
It is pitch dark outside. The nurses crash through the door and wake us up to take our morning smarties. I’m dead tired. I got a panic attack last night. I’m not sure what made it worse – the withdrawals or the thought of never taking anything again. I got some medicine that helped but the rest of the night passed with great difficulty. I take the pills from the nurse and swallow them without taking a look. I close my eyes and drift into sleep again.
It is much later in the day when I get woken up for lunch. My room mate Ashok* (meaning ‘without sorrow’) is a young Indian guy. Every time my eyes open he starts talking about his drug taking, where he took and how much he took. He has a dealer around the corner, he says, 5 minutes and we have it. My craving mind entertains the thought for a while and I turn over waiting for him to fall asleep.
Ashok turns out to be an insomniac so I spend hours listening to him go on and on. I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling and one plan after the other spins through my mind. I have no money on me but a druggie always makes a plan. The scary thing is in the streets of Johannesburg where will I draw the line at getting money!
I’ve drawn the line so far on the wrong side that I don’t know how to get my way back. Heroin has its clutches so deep through every cell in my body that it is clinging for dear life at the moment. Just another day I keep whispering to myself… just make it through another day!
