Three Sodas a Day Keep the Psychos Away, Part Two
The rocking guy is back in the lounge. I don't know why the nurses call it a "lounge." Its not like we have a piano player and drink highballs, though there are plenty of people who seem a little drunk, particularly the rocking guy. The nurse told me he could not tolerate more then one person in the room at a time. I've watched him. He will sit there calm and still with no one else in the room, except for me of course, but the minute another person, anyone comes in, he'll leave. That is weird. Wonder how that happened? He seems nice enough. I'm the only person he talks to. I asked him the other day how long he had been here. He said "three weeks". Later I asked the nurse and she said closer to three months. Wonder what kind of medication he's on. The "forget my life" kind? Thank god, I didn't sign up for that.
My dietician lets me have three sodas a day. There's a refrigerator for the patients, it's just past the nurses station in room not much bigger than a closet. I check a few times throughout the day just to make sure my sodas are still there. Too often and the nurse behind the desk will give me that sideways "what are you doing" look. I have enough restrictions. I don't need my soda privileges taken away too. I check once per nurse. I leave them in the refrigerator all day to stay cold, incase I might want one. If I don't
drink them by the end of the day, and I usually don't, I put them in my suitcase under my bed. I have thirty cans so far.
They also give me three pieces of fruit a day. I would do the same with my fruit, but it rots.
Someone has been stealing my soda and my fruit. I began marking the cans yesterday when I noticed a soda missing. Not a big mark, like anyone would notice, but a little inconspicuous mark. I colored in the red dot with a black marker. The fruit I don't care so much about.
I have asked everyone I know here if they know what happened to my soda or my fruit, but no one knows. Why would anyone want my stuff? All they have to do is fill out their menus and get all the soda and fruit they want. Most can eat whatever they want, unlike me.
Now that I am thinking about my soda I am going to count them. It's not like I have anything else to do. See, if I drink my soda before I eat, I won't eat so much. Those nurses act like prison guards and watch me all the time. They stand out side the shower while I shave my legs and afterward take back the razor back to their station. I think they like the power, but even so, I have managed to throw away my eggs every morning. I sneak the eggs off the
plate onto my napkin on my lap. Since they refuse to let me go to the bathroom for an hour after I eat. I just put the napkin in my pocket and flush it down the toilet later.
It's not at all as complicated as what another girl used to do. She would some how sneak M & Ms onto the unit. I could hardly believe that she would eat candy. She was thin, oddly attractive because she wasn't pretty, but she had a smile that made you look at her.
When we watched movies in the evening she would act as if she was eating ice out of a cup. She was actually eating M & Ms right in front of everyone including the nurses. No one knew. She'd throw-up later.
That's too risky for me. I would be so afraid of getting caught I wouldn't eat them in the first place. If I were caught I would be mortified, humiliated beyond repair, I can almost feel the pain in my chest now at the thought. Not her, she did get caught, but she didn't even care. That was her second time in-patient. Her weight dropped below her agreed amount. The
counselors make you sign a contract to keep your weight at a certain number. I keep renegotiating mine.
Here comes the old bat in the same pink bathrobe and scuffy slippers she's been wearing since she got here. If I could see her blink, maybe she wouldn't be so scary.
What has she got in her hand? It's her! She's the one stealing my soda! Not only is she stealing my soda, but she is walking down the hall plain as day drinking it! I don't care if she is crazy! She has to know she cannot steal my stuff! What the hell is she thinking?
"Where did you get that soda?" I can see the black dot on the can she's holding.
She looks at the can in her hand as if it just appeared. "This?"
"Yeah, where did you get it?" I am really pissed now.
"In the refrigerator," she says very matter of fact as if there isn't a thing wrong with her picture of the world.
"Do you know that the diet soda in the refrigerator is mine?" I don't care at this point if I sound rude.
She says "yes" as if a bug just flew from her mouth. It would be normal to react some how, but she doesn't. Not that this is even close to a normal situation.
I hold my hands out, palms up, scrunch my shoulders and my face. I make my whole body ask along with me, "What are you thinking?" all without screaming at her.
There's not a flicker of recognition on her face. That empty blink-less stare of hers persists as she pours the contents of my soda in her cup and hands me the can.
