the night shift

I don’t think I even told Chris what I had intended to tell him. After yet another on-call night fueled with sex and cocaine, I began to think this might be a little too regular occurrence when Chris hit me with the ‘well, you should see what I do when you aren’t here.’ and to be honest, I don’t know if I want to know what Chris does when I’m away.. While, I’m never one to deliver ultimatums, I did this time “stop the drugs or stop me”. Chris said all the right things. Where I was merely *enjoying* the drugs, he crossed over into dependence and addiction. And I couldn’t get my medical license revoked before I got one.

I had intended to tell Chris that I was going to Europe before I started classes. I needed a medical break before essentially giving my next 7 years of life over to medicine,  but we fought, and I left, and I never told Chris that I was headed to Scotland.

New Year’s Eve in Edinburgh

The conversation with Chris did not go as planned.

Perhaps neither of us were in the right frame of mind for such. After all, we were in a phase. Kinda hard to describe phase, but suffice to say all the partying I didn’t do as a rebellious teenager, Chris and I were doing now.. Drug fueled debauchery and then it’s off to save the tiny humans. Even I can’t suspend disbelief long enough to believe that this is now my life..

Call rooms aren’t just for sleeping. Or adrenaline fueled sex. The amount of coke I’ve consumed in the call room isn’t none. And my own twisted thoughts say –well, if you’re going to overdose on drugs, at least you’re in a hospital. It’s far more comfortable than the street. If that’s not mental, then what is?

AND it was one of those days where I (probably we, but definitely I) had had too much cocaine, too much adrenaline fueled sex, and not enough vodka when I told Chris that I was accepted to medical school and I had accepted my acceptance.

“Why are you telling me this now? How long have you known? When did you even apply? Fuck, Liza…I don’t even know you any more”

“Whose fault is that? You are the one who has been missing in action while hiding in plain sight since your sister died. And I get it, you two were close. She was part of you and now that’s gone.. I don’t know how else to help you grieve. And I’m almost positive that you’re doing a lot more of this than you let on.”

“You haven no idea. You have no one. Not a sibling and especially not a twin. You can’t imagine. And fuck you. I still go to work and take care of patients so who the fuck cares what I do in my off time.”

“But you’re not exactly off when we’re getting high in the call room bathroom. And then fucking for hours. And I can’t exactly reach you when you’re off. And you know what, I don’t do any of this when I’m back home. Only when I’m with you. So maybe that’s the answer. I can’t help you. You can’t help yourself. So when you evidently overdose, I hope it’s where someone finds you in time, because I am done. With all of this.”

My head was swirling with rage. And adrenaline; And too much cocaine. It didn’t help that the hospital hallway lights were motion-detected,, and that every step caused another light to turn on. Then off.. Then on again. My only saving grace is that the call room is near medical offices and medical offices are generally deserted at 1am so no one saw me leave.

“Liza, wait.” Chris followed me to the parking lot.

“What the fuck do you want? I came here to share my good news, and not only did you try to rain on my parade, you tried to cancel it all together.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do”

“You need to get yourself together. Or you’re going to lose a lot more than me. I can’t be around this. Or you when you’re like this. Call me when you figure things out.”

I got into my car and pulled away. In the distance I could see the purple electrical storm dimly lighting up the dark night sky.

”

I woke up, choking for air, strangling even. When I opened my eyes, all I she saw were the pale, green stars on the ceiling and walls. It reminded my of my childhood bedroom. Where am I? I thought. Certainly not in my childhood bedroom I answered myself.

I looked around, my eyes trying to focus, but the blinding headache prevented any kind of focus. Everything looked hazy–like my eyes had a film over them. I briefly wondered if it was worth it to get out of bed and look for ibuprofen. I decided it was. And also water. My throat felt as if I hadn’t had any water in years.

Naked, I  climbed out of bed and went towards the bathroom. Where was I? Everything looked vaguely familiar, yet not. I shielded my eyes from the morning sun daring to enter through a gap in the curtains. Where the fuck was I? And what the fuck happened that I can’t remember anything.

There was a lump in the bed. Oh, there’s someone else here too. Maybe they know what happened.

I made my way to the bathroom. I was definitely not in. my house. There was no ibuprofen where there should be ibuprofen. But I did find a bottle of oxycodone. HMMM, I’ve never taken oxy before, I thought to myself. Maybe it will help, I thought. I struggled with the orange prescription vial but managed to open the child-resistant top after a momentary struggle.

Still naked, I made my way to the kitchen. I swallowed the pill and chased it with a mouthful of wine from a bottle that I don’t remember having last night. What the actual fuck happened last night? I thought again. I looked around the kitchen and it was a mess. 6 empty wine bottles lay strewn around. An empty bottle of vodka lay sideways, mocking me, or at least I thought it was. There was a small bowl of pills, another small bowl of herbs, and some powdery residue in various places in the kitchen. For the umpteenth time, I wondered what the actual fuck happened last night. Oh, and where was I?

Suddenly conscious that I was still naked, I made my way back to the bedroom, looking for clues in each direction. My clothes were everywhere–down the hall, in the bed, on the floor. I gathered them up and attempted to put myself together. I remembered that my throat was still parched. After putting on clothes, I went back to the kitchen and filled up a somewhat dirty but the cleanest cup I could find with water.

Twenty minutes later, the warm, lightheaded feeling with a twinge of nausea arrived. The narcotic wave.

I pulled the covers back and discovered Chris was the naked figure in the bed, Well, I guess that’s good, I thought to myself. At least if I’m going to drown in debauchery, it’s with my boyfriend. I walked back through the house trying to figure out where I was. Through process of elimination I realized I wasn’t in my apartment or Chris’s house. I still had no idea where I was or how I got there.

I tapped Chris on the shoulder and he grumbled “oh my fucking god, what!”

“Chris, where are we? What happened last night?”

“You don’t remember? Oh my god, you were amazing”

I stopped asking questions as I’m not sure I wanted to know anymore. I could piece together that there was sex involved. And drugs. And alcohol. I don’t even think I want to know anything more.

I focused on the pale green stars, the kind that would glow in the dark if it were dark.

“Chris, I was accepted to medical school, and I’ve decided that I’m going to do it”