So Matt, you were wrong. I somehow managed to make it through the weekend without the help of your favorite lady P. Believe me it was very tempting as she sat on my counter and watched me, tempting me with all her tricks. I kept remembering how happy and out of control you became when you allowed her into your mind. Nothing else mattered. Your job, your friends, your mother. There was no way I wanted to be out of control like you. I needed to fix this. I couldn’t become the foggy brained mom who wasn’t in control. We both know I like to be in control. So I paced, cried, cussed and drank my bottles of red like they were going to disappear. I remember you telling me, Mom you drink too much, you’re no different than me. I just take drugs. We are no different. Oh yes, my precious son we are very different. I can drink, but I still have control. I never become that person slumping over on the couch or lying and stealing to get my red. I have given my red no power over my life. Your pills take over your mind and your will and change who you become. I was keeping my method of pain control my secret, I was in no mood to be lectured by you after everything you put me through.
Monday couldn’t come fast enough. I laughed thinking how I used to complain that weekends flew by, well this one could grow wings and be done. Monday at 9 AM I was seeing a surgeon. Thank God. I just wanted to get fixed so I could get to the beach and keep you safe. You and Lisa were still talking and I felt like there was still hope in you making this work. I always felt better knowing you weren’t alone. You didn’t do alone. Your demons were always waiting to catch you and offer you a happy place. You left alone ended in chaos. We spoke everyday and you assured me you were ok. You cleaned, well you said you did. Went to beach with the dogs and were having dinner with Lisa. My mind continued to run down the checklist every time we talked. So far, so good I thought. Now just let me think about me and not have to worry about you.
Monday morning finally came. Thank you God. Now came the moment of truth. Just how helpless was I with only my left hand. I stayed in the same sweats all weekend just because, but now I had to face the world. The girl with the hanging hand. Matt you would have laughed watching me put contacts in. My God, how much we take for granted by having two hands. Ok, forget it. Grabbing my glasses and thinking who cares, when they see my hand nobody’s gonna care what I look like. Getting dressed was unbelievably painful. The splint was a pain so off it came, holy crap this sucks. Finally ready and my pain level shooting through the roof. Ray comes to drive me. You really need to take a pill before you go, no thanks, just drive and shut up.
We get to the surgeon and it’s standing room only. Holy crap. Delaware is full of klutzes. Everywhere I look there are casts and crutches. I fit right in. This time the receptionist actually looks up and says Ouch that looks bad. Yup, thanks. Ray grabs the clipboard not wanting to risk my reaction. The last place was a joke. I’m feeling hopeful here, people actually look at you when you walk up to the desk. So Ray starts filling in all my information. So now everybody within hearing range knows all my stuff. I’m in so much pain I could care less. Info done and handed in. Ray leaves to get to a meeting. I’m left alone in a room full of strangers and all I want to do is cry. I want to call you and hear your voice. I need to know you are ok. God, it never ends. I worry about you constantly.
I hear my name. The nurse looks at my arm and winces. Well that’s just great, right now the last thing I need is a wuss for a nurse. We get to the exam room and are met by a P.A. Wow, he says. That looks like a bad break. No shit Sherlock. Oh God, please let this surgeon know what the hell he’s doing. I’ve got Robin from Batman sitting here drooling like a dog just waiting to get his hands on my wrist. If this surgeon comes in with any wise cracking joke I’m punching something. Yes, it’s not everyday that someone actually walks in with their wrist hanging from their arm, I get it. But in one minute the shit is going to hit the fan. My pain is making me crazy and I just want a real doctor, not Batman.
In walks Dr. S. He takes one look at me and says shit, how long have you been like this. All weekend. He unsplints me and looks in horror at what used to be a nice slim wrist. We need to fix this now he says to Robin. The P.A. jumps up like he just won the lottery. By now I’m ready to pass out. They lay me down on the bed. The surgeon apologizes to me about what he needs to do. Crap, now that’s scary, a surgeon saying he’s sorry before the fix. Oh God, just put me out. Maybe Lady P isn’t such a bad idea. My will power is weakening, my God help. I jump as he starts injecting local into my arm. He tells me It probably won’t help but he’s going to try. Then Robin wheels in a device from a medieval torture chamber. He smiles a sick smile as he grabs my arm and puts my fingers into something that reminded me of Chinese finger cots. The tighter you pull the tighter they get. I tell him with my own sick smile that if he grabs me again I’m going for his balls. He backs off and let’s Dr. S. take over.
So I’m laying on my back with my arm hanging from this contraption thinking I’d rather be anywhere but here. You pop into my mind. Oh God, please keep Matt safe. The pain was right up there with giving birth. My wrist was being shoved back into place. The words coming out of my mouth shocked even me. Nurses ran into the room and grabbed my other hand. Breathe, breathe he’s almost done. So now I know how it feels to be beaten with a bat. Passing out while laying down. now that blows that theory. Ok done, he says. You can sit up now. Sure you idiot, look at the patient. I can’t even move I’m in shock. Thank God for nurses. They stay and help. What color cast I’m asked. Really, how about red so when I beat you with it the blood won’t show. Whatever, just get me out of here.
Just like that I’m released. A nurse asks how I’m getting home. Call Ray. She gets my phone looking at me with pity. Here take this. I look to see the beautiful Lady P. smiling back at me. Your demons calling me. Come play, we will take you away from this painful place and give you peace. You need us, you can’t fight anymore, we beat you. Pain that doesn’t have to be if you just let us in. Oh God. I finally get it. Matt, is this what you go through everyday. Your back pain pushing you to let the demons in. I am so tempted, I’m so tired of this pain. Matt I understand how you are caught in their trap. The promise of pain free euphoria was tempting me just like it must tempt you. All I could think about was how easily you got addicted to pills and it all started with the first one. I close my eyes. I see you slumped on our couch. I remember the hell of detox. The tears fall. My son is an addict. Those words causing more pain than my now fixed wrist. The tears flow, the nurse wraps me in her arms. Our secret told to a complete stranger. She takes the pill away. The look of pity broke my heart. Yes, I thought the addicts mom can’t become the addict. She has battles to fight to save her son. I can do this, save you one handed…I even made a joke. Ok God, stop laughing.