Monday, April 3, 2017

"Day One"

My meds withdrawal went critical so I called 9-1-1. The EMT gals came in two seconds, and injected me into the "Kings County Nut House". This where questions were asked possessions stripped pills given, and my naked body detector swiped. ...Twice just to make sure.

This is where I wondered if that 9-1-1 move was swift.

The armed though smiling "helpers" gave me powder blue jammies wrist I.D. , and my own cell. which these days are called "Pods". My! It was pastel heaven. Dickens' Bedlam made over by the Art Student's League.

The scene.

There were 12 pods to a platform. Each with a plain flat bed, and hard plastic comfy chair. Pastel. Beyond was an open area where the walking wounded...of which I was one... sat drawing, and coloring.

Above this gleeful noise were two large mounted TV's. On one bunnies, and kittens on the other collapsing glaciers villages bombed to bits Africa starving riots in Russia, and America imploding.

No wonder everyone there was nuts.

Mean time I got medical work-overs. Blood stool piss, and that was just lunch. Later it got invasive. Btw nut houses are as advertised. Bad. Actually rather 'very' bad. Good intentioned clean tidy pastel oppression bad.

I had more entertaining adventures which ended with a simple meal of Soylent Green, and morphine. Well not really I was just hoping is all.

Towards night folks got itchy.

'Here to tell 'ya. The "Joint was Jumping". Dinner, and a show.

"Day Two"

I was transferred from the loonie bin to the medical wing for serious dissection. A nice kid gave me a sonogram to see if my guts were still there. Good news they were, and more or less working. Gooder news I wasn't pregnant.

Being an old guy I'm now an experienced patient so know the drill. Plenty of tests to stack the Medicaid cost. Uncle Sam is a first class sucker bless his soul!

The medical priesthood finally figured out I was in blinding fucking I told them when I got there a day ago. All 24 blinding agonized hours ago. That, and They wondered if I'd like something for the "discomfort".

...Civilization is indeed a strange thing.

I said "yes" with as much Orwellian irony as I could. This was rewarded with assorted goodies. Christ I love drugs! A note is it me or are all of the medical workers in Brooklyn from Barbados? Not a complaint mind...just wondering.

Well all good things...

They topped me off with stuff I can't pronounce. Gave me all sorts of stuff to sign. They wants to hook me up for more Medicare bucks for themselves, and I was all for it...drugs.

Actually they was neat folks just going about comforting, and saving lives...ya know like we all do. So I'm home in much less pain. Though still a bit fucked up. They wants me back tomorrow. I told them not likely. We worked something out.

Bottom line I ain't dead after all.

Stay Tuned.

"Drama Queen"

This has been a more than interesting end of winter. An actual murder in my building. This with ripples still echoing around the 'Hood. It may have triggered my recent health emergencies which gleefully continues.

Dizzy confusions deep pains sweats shakes what fun.

I called 9-1-1 yet again after midnight. The symptoms spiked badly. So bad I asked my Doc if my family should be called in...Drama Queen to the end. She was swell. A comfort as were, and are near all medical folks.
She told me "ending dependency" on powerful medications is a "slow process". 'And that how I was likely to be "around for a long while."

That's good,...I think.

They dealt with my assorted yuckies. Shot me full of gawd knows what. Took all sorts of samples...again,...stuck an IV into me, and to sleep I went.

I'm home again. Btw the photos above from my Kite adventure exactly a years ago.

"A room of one's own". Ms. Woolf, at least w/the title, was more than on to something. Also really you don't have to post you've all more than shown me how much you care. Your earlier/comments reactions are more a joy, and comfort than I can say...bless you folks.

The weird thing is I want a Pizza...plain. A heaping hot ass messy drippy pizza...I wanna have one bad. It would probably put me into a coma, but hey.

'...back in a while.

Stay Tuned.

"Chills, and Spills"

Life all life is tough as nails. Everything living on this world is a winner in nature's most brutal of contests. Natural Selection. All of us from the simplest cell to the whales, and great oaks. Even that unlikely species of spacefarers.
Even we.
We're all insanely resilient far. Roaches sharks alligators, and sponges honorable mention for longevity.

I bring this to you in the context of my current Drama Queenery. I should have bit the dust I don't know how many times, but insist on hanging around making trouble. I think more than we imagine do this...they just don't write about it.


That's the latest withdrawal noise in my digs. I haven't had this since I last enjoyed drug withdrawal. That time in the clouded evening of my youth from the less than legal variety.
Truly we've become a Nation of Junkies. (...Opioid hell some places polite drug store prescriptions in others.)

We are sucking down all manner of interesting chemicals. Officially, and self procured.
What would William Boroughs have made of this. What are current neo-hipsters making of it. I look forward to this generation's "Wild Boys".
(  Eh, Boroughs again...

So here I am wandering at the edges of a detoxed life. However the old ways still cling deeply. Letting go one wonderful needful fang at a time. Christ I love drugs...all kinds. Always wanting to see more than what our eyes betray us with.
Though clean for decades the dreams, and it's effects hang true. Several years of self-medication followed by near decades of legal, and now I see far more destructive Meds.

Meds. How slowly this little word has clawed into our world. Rapped around our throats at our own invitation, and slowly happily strangled us.


Yes ongoing pains nightmares, and assorted un-writable adventures.

However Chills.

I'm so cold. Shivering. frozen inside my damned guts. This happened long ago during a serious dope overdose in my former days. I wasn't afraid then, and not now. New things or at least rare things are what our evolved selves love. '...again thank you Natural Selection.
This shit just turns us on.
From this came fire particle physics pizza comic books anthrax bombs plastic Little Richard, and Mozart.

What is it where did it come from how did it happen..., and at last the most dangerous two words in the human world.

"What If?"

May the Gawds forgive us.

Stay Tuned.

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