We spent most of Tuesday in the ICU with a nearly fatal overdosed friend, who was released the next day and is back at work.
J and I have stopped trying to help her because even being in a coma didn’t scare her.
Nor does being taken by ambulance twice in a week to the hospital.
J has known her since she was eleven and I haven’t known her very long, but she is sweet and smart and has alot going for her if she weren’t dependent on heroin and pills.
The earnest pleading with her that comes from him is intense and the fact that she sits and lies to everyone about her problems/addictions is so frustrating.
Even more frustrating is that the hospital staff sucks.
We understand they can’t divulge any information to us since we aren’t family, but this girl sat in the hospital for two days with no family other than her 80 something year old crazy grandmother (who is reaching in her granddaughter’s handbag and giving her pills that have been bought off the street. Talk about an enabler!) and no one seems concerned that she has shown up twice, nearly dead, and they haven’t persuaded her to or forced her into treatment.
J spent nine hours at his workplace acting as the manager while she was in the hospital. I spent as much time at the hospital as I could.
And now, she is back to “normal”.
As sirens went by our house last night, in the direction of her home, J called down there to be sure everything was alright.
Because the night the ambulance was called for her when she overdosed, what actually went through my head was, “I wonder if it is for her.”
And I was right on.
Sad, when it becomes so predictable.
Security was called in the hospital because J was so upset that the nurses wouldn’t listen to him when he was trying to hand them pills he found in her handbag, or the list of street drugs she was buying that a mutual friend had given him (the friend had found them in her apartment when they went to walk her dog).
The nurses just said, “Oh, well, just don’t give them to her.” And he was like, “what? she is in ICU and you don’t want to look at this?”
Even worse, they didn’t give her a drug test when she came in.
I told J to bypass the local hospital and get me to the one ten minutes further down the road, if I were ever in need of hospital care.
When someone told J that she was being released, he just about punched a wall.
We know she will be back there at some point, at any point.
And we also know she will eventually die from this. And it will be too soon.
I am soured a bit to things right now. It makes me want to move. It makes me want to not be at the piano bar. It makes me want to run and hide and protect my children.