I won't be able to fall asleep unless I write this, so here goes...
Going back a few months to August 29, 2010. When they checked my sanity levels. I Won't give you all the gross details of what the waiting game was like when I was in the emergency room. Unless you want them, that is.
But for the first time in three different visits to the emergency room over the course of these last two years, this was the first time they checked my sanity. Actually. They asked me if I knew what year it was and if I could tell them who was the president and where I was at the time.
They asked me four times over Have you had anything to drink? Do you drink? Illegal drugs? Smoke? No, no, no, no. Tonight I felt buzzed by anxiety, not alcohol. Never had any alcohol, never have I done drugs, never smoked anything of any sort.
And yet they demanded I be breathalized. IT was my first time it was so scary. I couldn't help but laugh. But I had to stop before they gave me funny looks. So I did.
They kept insisting I give them a urine sample but I said how I just cannot, for the life of me, go to the bathroom when I'm so anxious I'm sick like that. So they kept waiting and asking me again. I never did go.
But they checked my sanity levels for the first time in three tries. I don't know why, but this is weird for me.
And then in the background, I heard patients in the waiting room, after all, we were in a low-income city and I had only curtains hiding me from everyone else and their ghastly faces as they sat with their families, huddled, in the waiting room. A baby was wailing, apparently it needed stitches and they started to bandage up the wrong foot. Can you imagine not seeing which foot is swollen?
And then there I stayed from 9pm to 1am, never questioned by my roommates of where I was that night, even though all the other times I had been fast asleep before they came back from their parties. They never wondered.
And they made me change into these gross straw-like clothes. I felt invaded. That was the day they checked my sanity levels.