Monday, March 24, 2008

foreshadowing... dun dun DUNNNNN

I finally have something interesting to write about, but I guess I gotta go in order...

Okay, so I've been staying with Greggie and his ex-wife at their house since leaving where I was, and what a relief it's been. He is almost done building the apartment attached to the house (used to be their laundry room, living room, and bathroom) and I helped by painting a bunch of wooden for-rent signs which we then put on stakes and put up around his neighborhood. [side note- I had just finished reading Salem's Lot by Stephen King and it entertained me walking around with all them wooden stakes, hah] They are good signs, really professional-looking, so people are either stealing them, stapling their signs right on top, or piggybacking. There was the same for-rent sign in front of 4 of Greg's signs which got him frustrated. The first one he left alone, the second one he moved a little bit, the third and fourth ones he just took because they are obviously inconsiderate assholes.

Later, my dad took me to the doctor because I haven't been sleeping good since quitting the h and wanted a prescription, and also I wanted a pregnancy test done by a doc. The test came up positive (just as I suspected) so he wouldn't write me any scrips for sleeping pills, telling me that the only safe thing to take is diphenhydramine (benadryl, unisom, sominex, etc) which is gay because it only works for 2 nights in a row. At least I'm not dopesick at night anymore- benadryl when I'm dopesick just makes me toss and turn. I asked him for a piece of paper stating the results of the preg test so I could show Greg, and gave me a page from his scrip book (signed and everything) that just said "Michelle is pregnant!" I'm trying to figure out a way to post that on here- but hell, I'm on a library computer and therefore have no scanner. Greg has a digital camera though, so new pics will be coming soon. I know I'm gonna need a pic to prove what happened next (not that I have to prove anything to the haters, it'll just be more fun that way, ya know?)

So the next day (Saturday), Greg and his ex had a yard sale and then all 3 of us went to Golden Corall for lunch with the money they made. Later that night I was kind of schizing out and my head was going a mile a minute, so I decided to go for a walk in the rain even though it was getting dark out and I was wearing jeans and a dark blue coat (foreshadowing... dun dun DUNNNNN). I walked north all the way to [the next major street] and back in the rain, which was a long walk and by the time I got back to the neighborhood I was dog-tired and my feet hurt so I wasn't really paying attention to where I was walking. So I'm tired, achy, half-crazy (drug cravings that I refuse to give into, mostly), walking in the road, wearing dark clothes, at night, in the rain. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next.

WHAP! Got hit by a car and knocked into the grass. A car and a truck immediately pulled over and asked if I was ok, and did I want an ambulance. I was a block away from Greg's house and didn't think I was too badly hurt, so I said no and walked the rest of the way back. When I got there, Greg helped me take the coat off and I seen a huge hard lump sticking out of my elbow. I touched it, and for the first time realized that I might be hurt for real. My whole left side was throbbing, especially my elbow and shoulder, and my right knee was burning because that's what I landed on when I fell. Still, it took Greg half an hour to talk me into going to the emergency room.

A note about ERs- I fucking hate them with a passion. I know a lot of junkies hit ERs claiming severe pain just to get pills, but that's just not my style. If I want drugs, I don't have to fill out a bunch of paperwork, wait for hours, and tell a bunch of lies- I simply make a phone call and get what I want quickly. But whenever I have to go to an ER, the docs/nurses just look at my tracks and assume I'm trying to pull a scam. I hate that. But my arm was really starting to smart, so I let 'em take me. I sat in that stupid hospital from 830pm to almost 4am, what with taking x-rays and waiting for them to come back. Everyone there (as usual) thought I was bullshitting to get some narcotics, and they wouldn't let me go out and smoke, plus my arm really did hurt, and I was there forever, and the tv volume didn't work, and I was hungry and thirsty. Obviously I was getting increasingly pissed off as time went by. The x-rays were torture because they were yanking my hurt arm every which way and were reluctant to give me painkillers because a) I told them I was pregnant, and b) they still thought I was full of shit.

I was almost relieved when the doc came back and told me that I had a "left compound radial head fracture", which is medical-school lingo for my elbow was broken in two places. The hard lump I seen sticking out wasn't just swollen, it was the bone almost puncturing the skin. I started getting a little more respect after that because they seen that I wasn't just wasting their time trying to get drugs- I also got percocet without even having to ask. Then they put a big ugly cast on me, and a sling which took 3 people and 30 minutes to puzzle out. I hate hospitals, yes I do. In addition to the busted elbow, I have a sprained shoulder, bruised ribs, a bruised knee (the right knee, while everything else hurt is on the left side), sprained knuckles, a hyper-extended ligament, and mild whiplash. Tons of fun, right? You know how hard it is to type with my left hand all swole up like a balloon? I put all my rings on my right hand cause they don't fit my left fingers at the moment- super gay. Well, at least they found out I wasn't bullshitting. Also I don't have a long history of ER visits where I'm complaining of pain- really the only times I've gone to emergency rooms is when I've overdosed or had a real bad seizure that I can't come out of, or when I actually WANT to get committed to the mental hospital (it's happened). This cast is a big pain in the ass, but I'm sposed to make an appointment with an "orthopedic specialist" to get this fiberglass cast off (and I guess a different cast on?) which my dad said he would pay for. He also payed for my percocets, which I am NOT abusing. I got a scrip for 15 5mg pills on Sunday morning (the sun was almost up when I left that stoopid ER) and have only taken 2 of 'em. I'm really trying as hard as I can to stay clean- hell I'm not even smoking pot or drinking right now. Crazy but true.

That's really it for now- I officially have over a month off heroin, although I stopped counting the days cause I'm not an AA/NA faggot. I can't say a month "clean" because I did use coke and 'done and weed and other shit over the past month, but definitely a month off the boy. Hooray for Shelley! And I know what the responses will be- "you're not clean, you're full of crap, I know you're not using, blah blah blah." As Yoda would say, you matter not. What matters is that I'm no longer a slave to the spike, and even though my craving sometimes kick my ass across the room and back I don't make the phone call to get any shit. If Micheal and Shane could quit heroin, hell- so can I.

$$REPLIES$$

dumbass- I'm not, and I don't care what you think. Thanks for signing your name at the bottom, I wasn't sure who you were but now I know that you're a dumbass!

anon 1- Yeah, I have tons of fun.

chris- I know it- I just needed to get high on something and didn't want to use heroin.

anon 2- See above for the answer to your question. I didn't know you knew my stepmom- she hasn't posted on here and in fact doesn't like to read me because I talk about drugs too much. It's amazing how much you "know".

lori- Make fun of yourself before others can, that's my philosophy.

victoria- I will if I have enough interent time left after this update, k?

anon 3/greg- I can always tell which posts are yours- you don't have to put your name or nothing!

bill- Guys my own age are immature assholes- I like older men and that's not even a rare thing for girls in their 20s, especially here in sunny South Florida. Kimmy Dixon was a close friend, so please don't talk shit about her. Talk shit about me all you want, but the dead can't defend themselves and it's just plain fucking mean, ok? I don't have fake tits- mine are all natural although they grew from a B-cup to a large C-cup since getting pregnant. Who says prostitution is a job that doesn't help others? There are many worse things you can do to a person than give them an orgasm. Palm Beach County is pretty crappy, I'll agree with you on that- cesspool is the perfect term too. Props!

heatherrreloise- Thanks, that gives me warm fuzzies.

skillz- I wasn't trying to get wasted, just wanted my head to shut up for a second so I didn't "think big". When I was shooting I usually did 1 or 2 bags at once, 3 when I was feeling particularly self-destructive (although 3 bags of what I get tends to make me barf and then pass out, which is dumb cause I'd rather enjoy my high). I think it's hilarious that people that hate me read every single thing I write just to spew venom- if I find a blog I don't like, I avoid it. But, some people have even less of a life than I do!

anon 4- Not fake humor, but real life trashy!

anon 5- Hahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

lori- You're in AA or NA, aren't you? I'm just guessing that by the way you write... could be wrong though.

anon 6- ...

coke addiction kinda sucks- It's easier than I thought it would be, but that's about all I can say.

taxitalk- Enjoy!

All right, my arm is screaming bloody murder so I'm done typing. Glad I got to update though- ouchies!

7 comments:

diamond said...

it would b hard to shoot up with yr arm in a cast isnt it?

all the bitches miss you since you got clean- call me or dezirae ok? pleeeeeze???

Jake said...

Bruised knee? That's going to put a serious crimp in your career of geeting down on your knees and sucking dick. Maybe you can claim unemployment and live off the Govt.'s tit even more?

I'm going to go ahead and make a prediction here. I predict that in a few days/weeks Michelle will make a post about how she is no longer pregnant, and that she miscarried because of this "accident", and how we should all feel sorry for her....

Awesome story about going to the ER. Glad you told them you were pregnant. And they prescribed you narcotics?

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

I don't care if you have a freaking compound fracture. No ER Dr. is going to write you for narcotics if you're pregnant. And for SURE no ER Dr. is going to write you for narcotics if you're pregnant AND have track marks.

Complete and utter bullshit, even for you.

Anonymous said...

BULLSHIT!!

Jaqui said...

Be sure to take care of that elbow. My sister just broke hers and had to have three surgerys in 14 days to get things right. You should see the pic of her swollen arm on my blog

Anonymous said...

1. If you were that injured in a car accident to do that amount of damage you wouldn't have gotten up and walked away
2. The two people that stopped wouldn't have let you walk away- or let the driver leave
3. The dr. wouldn't give a pregnant ho with track marks percocet to walk away with
4. The dr. would have reported the "accident" to police
5. Your regular dr. would not write a note saying "Michelle is pregnant!" Docs don;t write like that
6. Your dr. wouldn't have let a pregnant junkie ho leave the office without getting social services involved

You're either delusional or a liar, or both.

Anonymous said...

The person that hit you should pay medical expenses.

Anonymous said...

"The person that hit you should pay medical expenses."

Not sure if auto insurance covers stupidity or mental delusions.