Thursday, March 19, 2015

More Than the Plot Sickens

      I was awakened the next morning shortly after seven AM for my CNA to take vitals. It was Tara, with whom I had and still have a close relationship. The last time we had talked was before the whole mess with Caligula. She took my blood pressure and pulse.
     “Are you okay?” she asked.
     “Yeah, I'm all right,” I answered.
     “I can't believe they did that to you.”
     “Well, believe it. They did.” 
      I was not being entirely snarky with that. Tara knew full well management made some incredibly reckless decisions without regards to the consequences. The only question was how they were going to paint a happy picture of it. So far, being dismissive the matter was a big deal appeared to be the strategy.
     “Nicole would have hurt him if he had gotten hold of you,” Tara assured me.
     “I know. She flung him around like a rag doll as it was.”
     My blood pressure was fine, but my heart rate was elevated. It had rarely dropped below a hundred since the whole sitter ordeal began. The anxiety was taking a physical toll. I soldiered through it rather than request more Ativan. Becoming reliant on pills was not on my agenda, which was difficult, since the first thing a mental institution was going to do was dope me up. Yes, things were not going well. When things are not going well, I get sick. Getting sick is exactly what I did.
     On the bright side, I did not follow my usual pattern of nausea and inability to eat. The last thing I needed to do was lose more weight. It was not always easy with the plastic silverware to which my highly dangerous self was now relegated, but I got it done. My nightly tube feed drip was going smoothly, too. But my immune system was shot. I felt run down. Eventually, I developed a soar throat and the sniffles. It was a cold winter, and though though I had not left the building in days, the germs floating around inside were too much for my weary state.
      I am generally too cautious to look on the bright side of anything, but at least I was now going to be left lone for a while. It was friday morning. Weekends were always subdued at Oakhaven. With management of work, there is much less stress.  I now lived on a dead end hallway. I had no roommate. My sister, who was a new girl I did not know, was sitting in the hallway far more interested in playing candy crush Saga on her smatphone than wathing me. It was the perfect opportunity to sleep off the last few weeks. I do so for nearly two solid days.

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