LJ Idol Week 5- Unca Fully's Review of Impossible Places: Dual Diagnosis Unit
They took my shoelaces and my belt if I had really wanted to die I would be dead, my family has a knack for such things.
When I first got there I just wanted to sleep, a fellow patient roused
me and insisted I play ping-pong with him he said they were always watching, and as an involuntary commitment I should show enthusiasm and socialize, lest my stay be extended. I liked ping pong in college... And had a weird serve with backspin. Whack whack whack whack... When all you want to do is sleep once out I have never played again.
They fed me diet to everything egg white, dry toast,fat-free dressing on that sad sort of salad made with iceberg lettuce and a bit of shredded carrot and red radish. For an entree I had to that kind of grilled chicken I used to pull out of some sort of liquid and place on the grill when I worked at the Stop and Rob. That happened the only other time I was hospitalized as well for a rhinoplasty after I shattered my nose playing baseball as a child (in those days a 3 day stay for surgery like that wasn't uncommon.). Plastic surgery or mental health it doesn't matter if you're fat you're going to be put on a diet, doctors hate fatties.
There was at least one fight everyday on the unit. None of us disliked each other, but some wanted the thorazine or whatever was in the needle they used to subdue us. This was true even though it tended to make us shit our pants. I am a big fan of clean drawers even though I was curious and enduring a bad detox. It wouldn't have hurt anything if I had, though, there is no judgment in the dual diagnosis unit.
My roommate kept telling me the difference between Oklahoma heroin and the stronger Houston variety. I kept thinking of the scene in pulp fiction where Eric stoltz was upselling higher quality heroin to John Travolta. My roommate was just a kid rocking his first shaved to the skin haircut probably still had some of his baby teeth. He vomited all night which,in turn, made me vomit sometimes we were the fucking Chunder Tabernacle choir.
There was like one jaded old full shrink and like ten overeager, eversmiling interns. Some conversation overheard from the interns the Harris county dual diagnosis unit was a much-loved job because it was interesting. I am so glad that I was able to entertain those white-coated devils.
They tried to get us to take up to five alcoholics anonymous meetings a day....which I recommend for anyone if you're trying to make someone hate the idea of sobriety or sober people. The stick on the carrot-and-stick methodology they used to get us to attend was that if we didn't attend at least three it would count toward perhaps extending our stay. Many attended all five because the carrot was that it was the only time we were permitted coffee. I was thankful I didn't like coffee and didn't like the sort of medicine everyone else lined up for as if they were going to see The Beatles in the early 70s. It gave me a mostly illusory feeling of control.
There was one crack addict who would eat anything anyone didn't want.. my egg whites and bad chicken sausage and crap salad included. He said he only ate when he was in some sort of institution be at the prison or a nut hut like ours. On the street he would never waste good money on something as frivolous as food.
There was a girl who lived close to where I lived. Very pretty, wanted my number so that I could be a sober buddy to her. She was quite desperate to have one even flirted with me a little. I guess I pretended to be quite the prude and not interested in having a female sober buddy.but I didn't feel like I could tell her the truth because she was a hand raiser who had bought in and would likely say something that would extend my stay. The truth is I had no intention of being anybody's sober anything.
I got my belt and shoes back and ate about $20 worth of lunch from Taqueria del Sol. I didn't drink again for another oh I don't know week and a half.
When I first got there I just wanted to sleep, a fellow patient roused
me and insisted I play ping-pong with him he said they were always watching, and as an involuntary commitment I should show enthusiasm and socialize, lest my stay be extended. I liked ping pong in college... And had a weird serve with backspin. Whack whack whack whack... When all you want to do is sleep once out I have never played again.
They fed me diet to everything egg white, dry toast,fat-free dressing on that sad sort of salad made with iceberg lettuce and a bit of shredded carrot and red radish. For an entree I had to that kind of grilled chicken I used to pull out of some sort of liquid and place on the grill when I worked at the Stop and Rob. That happened the only other time I was hospitalized as well for a rhinoplasty after I shattered my nose playing baseball as a child (in those days a 3 day stay for surgery like that wasn't uncommon.). Plastic surgery or mental health it doesn't matter if you're fat you're going to be put on a diet, doctors hate fatties.
There was at least one fight everyday on the unit. None of us disliked each other, but some wanted the thorazine or whatever was in the needle they used to subdue us. This was true even though it tended to make us shit our pants. I am a big fan of clean drawers even though I was curious and enduring a bad detox. It wouldn't have hurt anything if I had, though, there is no judgment in the dual diagnosis unit.
My roommate kept telling me the difference between Oklahoma heroin and the stronger Houston variety. I kept thinking of the scene in pulp fiction where Eric stoltz was upselling higher quality heroin to John Travolta. My roommate was just a kid rocking his first shaved to the skin haircut probably still had some of his baby teeth. He vomited all night which,in turn, made me vomit sometimes we were the fucking Chunder Tabernacle choir.
There was like one jaded old full shrink and like ten overeager, eversmiling interns. Some conversation overheard from the interns the Harris county dual diagnosis unit was a much-loved job because it was interesting. I am so glad that I was able to entertain those white-coated devils.
They tried to get us to take up to five alcoholics anonymous meetings a day....which I recommend for anyone if you're trying to make someone hate the idea of sobriety or sober people. The stick on the carrot-and-stick methodology they used to get us to attend was that if we didn't attend at least three it would count toward perhaps extending our stay. Many attended all five because the carrot was that it was the only time we were permitted coffee. I was thankful I didn't like coffee and didn't like the sort of medicine everyone else lined up for as if they were going to see The Beatles in the early 70s. It gave me a mostly illusory feeling of control.
There was one crack addict who would eat anything anyone didn't want.. my egg whites and bad chicken sausage and crap salad included. He said he only ate when he was in some sort of institution be at the prison or a nut hut like ours. On the street he would never waste good money on something as frivolous as food.
There was a girl who lived close to where I lived. Very pretty, wanted my number so that I could be a sober buddy to her. She was quite desperate to have one even flirted with me a little. I guess I pretended to be quite the prude and not interested in having a female sober buddy.but I didn't feel like I could tell her the truth because she was a hand raiser who had bought in and would likely say something that would extend my stay. The truth is I had no intention of being anybody's sober anything.
I got my belt and shoes back and ate about $20 worth of lunch from Taqueria del Sol. I didn't drink again for another oh I don't know week and a half.