Continuing on...
So while I was experiencing this meal-time ritual for the first time I noticed that 'Earl', whom I already despised, but at this point still had no real reason to, was being a real dick to everybody. This wasn't that unusual, there were numerous verbal conflicts between patients constantly going on, but what was wierd was that nobody ever said anything back to him. He was sitting there criticizing peoples clothes, their demeanors, even their social habits, but everyone just sort of let it go. I also noticed that while everyone else was drinking and trading their plastic children's cups of coffee and tea, 'Earl' had a big cup of Tim Horton's Coffee. Very curious....
After sitting in the room for a while, so that the nurses would think I had eaten, I left and went back to my room. Behind me, sharpened claws snatched up what was left on my tray in milliseconds.
Shortly thereafter, Sarah returned, with clothes and various personal sundry items hygenic in nature. My shaving apparatuses: conspicuously absent. I immediately withdrew the cigarettes from their hiding spot in the closet and stashed them in Sarah's bag.
"Why are you putting a pack of cigarettes in my purse?" she asks. And also "where did you even get a pack of cigarettes?"
I explain to my lovely librarian that the cigarettes were stolen from some guy with a "My Name is Earl" mustache, who was my nemesis, even though I didn't know him, but was starting to suspect I had good reason for hating him after all. And I was hiding them in her purse in case the bastard came back looking for them.
She seemed to understand, in as much as anyone who is relatively sane can fully understand the ramblings of a crazy person.
She stayed with me for several more hours. Eventually 'Earl' did return, with an orderly. The Orderly explained that ''Earl' was quite certain that something had been left behind when his belongings were transferred and that he was going to search though the room. Everything was communal there, there wasn't really any kind of sense of privacy, so it didn't really surprise me that they would just go though my stuff looking for some guy's lost(stolen) cigarettes, not that I had much stuff there anyway. Of course they wouldn't have dreamed of invading the privacy of a non-crazy visitor, so the cigarettes remained safely in Sarah's bag.
Ha!
Randbaek....2
Nemesis....0
(I awarded myself the first point for having taken the cigarettes in the first place)
Shortly thereafter Sarah left and I was assigned a new nurse for the night, one who unfortunately decided that I should be cured of my social anxieties immediately, and forced me to interact with the other patients in the common areas for the rest of the night. I was forced to watch 5 hours of CSI (I mean I like CSI, I do, but 5 hours?) But much worse than that I had to endure twenty strangers asking me every question they could think of just because I was new. Personal questions. Random trivia. Really Personal questions. What did I think of so-and so? Did I think this person was nice? I tried every technique I knew to get them to leave me alone. One word answers, unecessarily long answers, outright ignoring them, nothing worked. At midnight they finally let me go back in my room.
The next day I discovered the reason for 'Earl's stature in the heirarchy of the ward. Having been there pretty much forever, Earl had been given "off floor privaledges." This meant he could go anywhere in the hospital for up to 30 minutes at a time. No one else seemed to have this privaledge, other than a girl who couldn't really carry on a conversation with anyone for more than 3 seconds. This made Earl a god, as there was a Tim Hortons downstairs.
For you Non-Canadians:
Tim Horton's (tĭm hr'tns) A canadian coffee house franchise, named after a Canadian hockey legend, known for enjoying an almost fanatical devotion on the parts of its patrons, particularily in eastern Canada.
So if you wanted Tim Horton's coffee, you needed 'Earl' to get it for you, and you had to put up with Earl being a dick. Since Tom horton's coffee borders on a genuine addiction for many people here in the martimes, it created a very imbalanced social structure.
But at least he couldn't smoke those cigarettes. Bastard.
Also, relatively early in the second day my brother came back to see me again. Some people might have brought me a magazine and a toothbrush, my brother brought me almost $200 of designer toiletries and hardcover books, including a manual on how to defeat depression just by thinking positive.
That's all you have to do? Think positive? Fuck me, i wish someone told me that 10 years ago.
He also proceeded to tell me that I was just trying to get attention, I had succeeded, and should ask for whatever it was that I was looking for.
I didn't know how to respod to that. He doesn't understand depression (he's the only one in my entire family who doesn't suffer from it in one way or another) and I think he definitely suffers from not knowing what to say in a situation like this (who does?) so I'd like to assume he wasn't trying to be as cruel as it seemed he was. I say that in retrospect, at the time I was absolutely devastated by his thinking that I had done this for attention. I was already so embarassed about the whole situation...
The rest of my stay was actually uneventful. My brother didn't come back. Sarah was there as often as was possible. Some nurses let me stay in my room (which was pretty good, sinse I had all those books to read, Including a translation of the novel that inspired one of my favorite films of all time, the Russian vampire classic "NightWatch")
My brother and I always shared a love for all things Russian....
Anyway, some of the nurses did not let me stay in my room and forced me to interact with my fellow crazies, which made me want to kill myself.
My stay came to a close when I had my first (of what was expected to be many) meetings with a social worker. She may have been the most irratating person in the universe. And the universe is a big place.
I get that she was used to dealing with all kinds of patients, but after a few minutes with me she probably should have been able to figure out that my psychological problem was not that I was completely retarded, and so she could probably have stopped talking to me like i was a 4year old who didn't really undestand english. And she actually said "mmkay." At the end of every sentence.
"I'm going to leave these for you to read, mmmkay?"
"I'm going to meet with your doctor about that, mmmkay?"
"I'll be back to talk more tomorrow, mmmkay?"
Absolutely. Every. Sentence.
She was going to be meeting with me every day, indefinitely, in person or over the phone to help me set up a support system of people who could help me, she was going to help me organize my life, find a new vocation, she was going to essentialy me my new guardian.
When she came back the next day, i told her none of that would be possible, because whenever I got out I was moving back to Nova Scotia to stay with my family. A complete Lie. I had no intention of doing his.
Worked like gangbusters, though, she immediatedly cancelled all my appointments and tore up all my paperwork, since I would be moving out of her jurisdiction. Genius.
Of course she told this to my doctor. Even better. He thought it was a great idea and said if I was going home (and out of his jurisdiction too) i could leave the next day.
Sarah, being Sarah, was not all that thrilled with my lie and felt I should follow through with my promise. The thought of going back to that apartment was not a pleasant one, so I eventually acquiesced. The next day I was let out and the day after that I was back home in NS, and alone. I still don't know if it was the smartest decision, but I guess I really didn't have much of a choice, since sarah couldn't possibly have been able to go to work knowing I was at home, alone all day.
I later found out my brother had insisted on helping my parents with my airfare and that he had payed for my private room for my entire stay, Which would have amounted to a great deal of money. I really don't know if he really cares and just doesn't know what to say, or if he really is an asshole who loves throwing his money around. Both possibilities have occured to many times over the years.
So that was my fun adventure. I still have the pack of cigarettes as an interesting souvenir. Now I need to figure out what to do now.
So while I was experiencing this meal-time ritual for the first time I noticed that 'Earl', whom I already despised, but at this point still had no real reason to, was being a real dick to everybody. This wasn't that unusual, there were numerous verbal conflicts between patients constantly going on, but what was wierd was that nobody ever said anything back to him. He was sitting there criticizing peoples clothes, their demeanors, even their social habits, but everyone just sort of let it go. I also noticed that while everyone else was drinking and trading their plastic children's cups of coffee and tea, 'Earl' had a big cup of Tim Horton's Coffee. Very curious....
After sitting in the room for a while, so that the nurses would think I had eaten, I left and went back to my room. Behind me, sharpened claws snatched up what was left on my tray in milliseconds.
Shortly thereafter, Sarah returned, with clothes and various personal sundry items hygenic in nature. My shaving apparatuses: conspicuously absent. I immediately withdrew the cigarettes from their hiding spot in the closet and stashed them in Sarah's bag.
"Why are you putting a pack of cigarettes in my purse?" she asks. And also "where did you even get a pack of cigarettes?"
I explain to my lovely librarian that the cigarettes were stolen from some guy with a "My Name is Earl" mustache, who was my nemesis, even though I didn't know him, but was starting to suspect I had good reason for hating him after all. And I was hiding them in her purse in case the bastard came back looking for them.
She seemed to understand, in as much as anyone who is relatively sane can fully understand the ramblings of a crazy person.
She stayed with me for several more hours. Eventually 'Earl' did return, with an orderly. The Orderly explained that ''Earl' was quite certain that something had been left behind when his belongings were transferred and that he was going to search though the room. Everything was communal there, there wasn't really any kind of sense of privacy, so it didn't really surprise me that they would just go though my stuff looking for some guy's lost(stolen) cigarettes, not that I had much stuff there anyway. Of course they wouldn't have dreamed of invading the privacy of a non-crazy visitor, so the cigarettes remained safely in Sarah's bag.
Ha!
Randbaek....2
Nemesis....0
(I awarded myself the first point for having taken the cigarettes in the first place)
Shortly thereafter Sarah left and I was assigned a new nurse for the night, one who unfortunately decided that I should be cured of my social anxieties immediately, and forced me to interact with the other patients in the common areas for the rest of the night. I was forced to watch 5 hours of CSI (I mean I like CSI, I do, but 5 hours?) But much worse than that I had to endure twenty strangers asking me every question they could think of just because I was new. Personal questions. Random trivia. Really Personal questions. What did I think of so-and so? Did I think this person was nice? I tried every technique I knew to get them to leave me alone. One word answers, unecessarily long answers, outright ignoring them, nothing worked. At midnight they finally let me go back in my room.
The next day I discovered the reason for 'Earl's stature in the heirarchy of the ward. Having been there pretty much forever, Earl had been given "off floor privaledges." This meant he could go anywhere in the hospital for up to 30 minutes at a time. No one else seemed to have this privaledge, other than a girl who couldn't really carry on a conversation with anyone for more than 3 seconds. This made Earl a god, as there was a Tim Hortons downstairs.
For you Non-Canadians:
Tim Horton's (tĭm hr'tns) A canadian coffee house franchise, named after a Canadian hockey legend, known for enjoying an almost fanatical devotion on the parts of its patrons, particularily in eastern Canada.
So if you wanted Tim Horton's coffee, you needed 'Earl' to get it for you, and you had to put up with Earl being a dick. Since Tom horton's coffee borders on a genuine addiction for many people here in the martimes, it created a very imbalanced social structure.
But at least he couldn't smoke those cigarettes. Bastard.
Also, relatively early in the second day my brother came back to see me again. Some people might have brought me a magazine and a toothbrush, my brother brought me almost $200 of designer toiletries and hardcover books, including a manual on how to defeat depression just by thinking positive.
That's all you have to do? Think positive? Fuck me, i wish someone told me that 10 years ago.
He also proceeded to tell me that I was just trying to get attention, I had succeeded, and should ask for whatever it was that I was looking for.
I didn't know how to respod to that. He doesn't understand depression (he's the only one in my entire family who doesn't suffer from it in one way or another) and I think he definitely suffers from not knowing what to say in a situation like this (who does?) so I'd like to assume he wasn't trying to be as cruel as it seemed he was. I say that in retrospect, at the time I was absolutely devastated by his thinking that I had done this for attention. I was already so embarassed about the whole situation...
The rest of my stay was actually uneventful. My brother didn't come back. Sarah was there as often as was possible. Some nurses let me stay in my room (which was pretty good, sinse I had all those books to read, Including a translation of the novel that inspired one of my favorite films of all time, the Russian vampire classic "NightWatch")
My brother and I always shared a love for all things Russian....
Anyway, some of the nurses did not let me stay in my room and forced me to interact with my fellow crazies, which made me want to kill myself.
My stay came to a close when I had my first (of what was expected to be many) meetings with a social worker. She may have been the most irratating person in the universe. And the universe is a big place.
I get that she was used to dealing with all kinds of patients, but after a few minutes with me she probably should have been able to figure out that my psychological problem was not that I was completely retarded, and so she could probably have stopped talking to me like i was a 4year old who didn't really undestand english. And she actually said "mmkay." At the end of every sentence.
"I'm going to leave these for you to read, mmmkay?"
"I'm going to meet with your doctor about that, mmmkay?"
"I'll be back to talk more tomorrow, mmmkay?"
Absolutely. Every. Sentence.
She was going to be meeting with me every day, indefinitely, in person or over the phone to help me set up a support system of people who could help me, she was going to help me organize my life, find a new vocation, she was going to essentialy me my new guardian.
When she came back the next day, i told her none of that would be possible, because whenever I got out I was moving back to Nova Scotia to stay with my family. A complete Lie. I had no intention of doing his.
Worked like gangbusters, though, she immediatedly cancelled all my appointments and tore up all my paperwork, since I would be moving out of her jurisdiction. Genius.
Of course she told this to my doctor. Even better. He thought it was a great idea and said if I was going home (and out of his jurisdiction too) i could leave the next day.
Sarah, being Sarah, was not all that thrilled with my lie and felt I should follow through with my promise. The thought of going back to that apartment was not a pleasant one, so I eventually acquiesced. The next day I was let out and the day after that I was back home in NS, and alone. I still don't know if it was the smartest decision, but I guess I really didn't have much of a choice, since sarah couldn't possibly have been able to go to work knowing I was at home, alone all day.
I later found out my brother had insisted on helping my parents with my airfare and that he had payed for my private room for my entire stay, Which would have amounted to a great deal of money. I really don't know if he really cares and just doesn't know what to say, or if he really is an asshole who loves throwing his money around. Both possibilities have occured to many times over the years.
So that was my fun adventure. I still have the pack of cigarettes as an interesting souvenir. Now I need to figure out what to do now.
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You know, one of these times you ought to answer me on msn.