March 22, 2009 |
my bed hurts my back, my pillows hurt my neck. the expensive pizza we got didn't have much flavor. i guess i adjusted. my weight dropped to 176. "valley urgent care" again, this time with mom. the nurse, an old hindu man. why are you here? vicodin. what were they giving you? they call it oxydesic, it's generic oxycontin, but i don't want that. i showed him my "passport." the owner of this passport received a metal chest implant. he shares that he has a disc in his back. he mentions airport security and laughs. there's no reason to take my shoes off anymore. with the detector wand they start from your shoulders and wheeaaaaaaewwwwww!!!!!!!!!!! off behind the curtain i go. as he is flipping through my file, i catch a glimpse of a records subpoena. the doctor comes in. they didn't give you anything to hold you over? she asks. it's difficult to communicate, i replied. have you been here before? yes, once. i see, he gave you xanax. yeah. how did things go this time? not well, but please don't tell my mother yet. she smiles. i'll give you vicodin, don't take it regularly, only at night, for comfort. and ibuprofin for tissue healing. the prescriptions in my hand at the front desk, the nurse comes over and offers his hand. we shake and he says good luck. in the car, i think about how happy i am to have met him. in that dirty, disgusting clinic, in the united states, in california, in los angeles. you're only getting one of these prescriptions, i tell my mom. 20 of them aren't going to last very long. maybe long enough before i leave again. airport bus 128 to kurt-schumacher-platz to u6 friedrichstr to s2 buch to bus 354 helios klinikum. i know exactly how to get there. and that's good, because soon i will be back.
© barry reinschreiber