Mean Nurses

Prior to taking this hospital trip, my husband poured out the vodka into the sink.  The feeling it evoked from me was disgusting.  I was sad, maybe even crying.  I wanted one more. To know it was the last. Somewhere at sometime I read that alcoholics should know when they take their last drink. As if it makes it easier to say a final goodbye.  I can't tell you how many times I used that as an excuse to have a drink. 

On the drive to the ER, I feel frozen. I know I am doing the right thing. I am nervous. I am scared. I am embarrassed. I am consumed with guilt.  I actually HATE drinking.  For the first time in my life. I really, truly view alcohol as a poison.  I am still very drunk. But this is a true "sobering" experience.  I am scared to check myself in and be judged. By doctors, nurses, other people in the ER. But I am doing the right thing. And they will be nice.

Some are. At first, anyways.  The main ER check in people are fine. They ask me if I want to detox and I say yes.  I am not sure what that means. But I want to. Brad and I are separated so he can do paperwork, and they shuffle me off to the detox wing.  I meet my temporary bed-mate. 

A beautiful 18ish year old girl detoxing from heroin. It has been 1 or 2 days since has had any. And. . . she knows all about detox, meds, withdrawals, etc.  Probably not her first time.  She gives me the lowdown, where they'll take me, what meds I will have. She hears my husband tell the nurse that I drank about a gallon of vodka in 2 or 3 days and she gasped. Sadly, I feel like I have street cred. A heroin addict gasped at my consumption. I belong here. Why I feel that way I don't know and it is kind of sick, but it is how I feel.

The nurses become more and more judgemental and rude as the minutes pass. They kick my husband out after his 10 minutes. They yell at me for using a cell phone and treat me like I am breaking the law when they catch me on it. 

I grow anxious when my husband leaves. I hate being alone in that room. I get a new roommate.  Another heroin addict, who is also a detox pro. She ran out of money for heroin. She wishes she got loaded before she checked herself in. She almost vomits in our little room. She begs for methadone. They don't give it to her. 

I agree to check into a detox center at a different hospital and stay there until I am fully detoxed.  I am scared and nervous.  I have second and third thoughts. But I am not waking up in my own bed tomorrow. It will not happen.  No way. No how.