Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2002-09-19 05:56 pm
azurelunatic) wrote2002-09-19 05:56 pm
Free at last?
Votania's hospitalization dragged up some old memories: the first time I almost lost a best friend.
That situation was different, however. Shawn was my best friend, and he had been acting weird for quite some time, ever since he'd gone to visit his summer-custodial father. Things got weirder and weirder with him, until finally, one terrible morning, Shawn called me with what sounded like a complete nervous breakdown.
It later proved to be something not quite so easy. Shawn had fallen in love with a girl, and she had died in a climbing accident. He had overdosed on LSD, trying to kill himself. When he called me, he dragged me right through his bad trip with him, a delightful paranoid delusion reminiscent of the then yet-to-be-released series "The Pretender".
I didn't know what was going on at the time. All I knew, was that Shawn was in trouble, in terrible, deadly trouble, and I had to be there for him. I sent him all the energy I had to spare, and more. I'd been sick that week already, a double ear infection that turned out to be one of the nastiest cases of Swimmer's Ear that the doctor had encountered lately; I couldn't even close my jaw enough to chew. I was existing on pink lemonade and oatmeal (occasionally with blue cheese dressing: my sense of humor was still intact), and this was not making me feel any better. I hadn't eaten yet that morning.
It was several years before I could talk about it coherently. The night it finally came all out (I'd talked about it before, but it hadn't done any good) was to Darkside on the phone shortly after I'd moved into the camping apartment. I hysterically cried my eyes out, and he sat up and listened to me and talked me through it.
I still stutter, randomly, about stuff that's connected to that in some way. Not as much as I used to, though, and very rarely.
This morning, I realized that having gone through that experience with Shawn was one of the primary things that made Votania's collapsing, having a seizure, and getting rushed to the hospital a bearable experience for me. The things about almost having Shawn die that freaked me out most, was not knowing what was going on, and not being able to be there to give him a hug or hold his hand.
We knew what was going on with Votania, after the first little bit. The hospital did all manner of tests on Votania, including an EEG and (was it a CAT scan or an MRI?) something else, to rule out all possible physical causes. Her tests came back normal. In this case, normal is a good thing. After those came back clear, they asked me, as her roommate, if she had been under any unusual stress lately. I began to list off factors, including the switch in management at her job, and the adorable nickname that the customers had given to the new acting manager, the blonde: "That Blonde Bitch". That and the way she's been pushing herself, never just sitting back and relaxing, never having time to: that's a perfect recipe for the body finally saying, "Enough is enough!" and shutting down. Unlike Shawn, we knew what had caused this as soon as all the tests came back. I didn't find out that Shawn had taken drugs to try and overdose until about eight months later. I don't do well with not knowing what is going on. This time I knew why Votania had collapsed, so I could handle it.
I was there for her. Marx called and left a message on the answering machine with what had happened, roughly, and where they were. I called the hospital, confirmed that she was there, and scooted over there. They allowed both of us in the emergency room, and we each stood at the side of her bed, each holding a hand. We remained there with her until they moved her into the ICU, and then we stayed with her until they needed absolute stillness for the EEG, and then we stayed with her until I had to go with her mom to collect Nephew, and Marx stayed until they booted all visitors out. I was there for her. I was there when she was waking up, groggy and confused, not really sure what day it was, or why, exactly, she was here, or which hospital she was in. I wasn't there for Shawn when he came down from his acid trip, and called me, sounding seven years old, alone in a strange place without his mommy or his teddy bear. That day, all I was able to do for him was be a voice on the phone, and tell him to wrap up in the blanket I made for him. For Votania, I was there when she was feeling lost and alone, and I was there when she was unconscious, and I got there as soon as I could, and I stayed as long as I could. She collapsed, and Marx was there to call 911, and we were both there as she made the long struggle up towards consciousness.
I couldn't have been strong for Marx, been calm enough to sit there holding her hand pouring good energy into her, if I hadn't gone through that hell with Shawn. Things happen for a reason. He survived, and I survived, and I am stronger from the experience. I was the voice of sanity that he needed, the comfort when he returned, and he survived. I hated him for having done that to me for years afterward. I'm still angry with him. I wasn't able to feel anything about that for so long. It felt like I was wearing a mask of wax, frozen inside my mind, tight on my face. Most people can't feel anything from me empathically when I freeze like that. Darkside's one of the few who can extract any form of coherence from me at those points. But I can feel about it now. Ro was right: it was leaking acid inside me, and now I can feel it to do something about it.
Shawn found the love of his life, lost her, and tried to die. He could have conceivably taken me with him. We both survived. Because he pulled that goddamn stupid stunt, I was able to be calm and coherent enough to help pull Votania through her post-seizure incoherence. I'd almost had a friend die before, but that situation was so fucked-up that it really traumatized me. I think I may still find myself stuttering about it from time to time, but not half as much as I used to. Votania's seizure/collapse (a two-for-one combo, same low price!) was straightforward and uncomplicated; we knew what was going on, after the initial scariness of not knowing, she was in a hospital where they could give her proper medical attention and respond if there were any later crises besides the intial seizure (thankfully, the EEG showed no more seizure activity in her brain), and we were able to be right there with her until she was out of danger.
The realization that she could have died of this hit me hardest after Grandma had taken Nephew home with her, and taken Marx to drop off at his mom's house, and Neighbor had left to go home and get some sleep. I panicked and went into shock, and Darkside and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iroshi took care of me. I wouldn't be doing so well if I hadn't had the horrible experience with Shawn to let me know that almost losing a friend can be so very much worse than a simple case of a seizure brought on by job stress.
That situation was different, however. Shawn was my best friend, and he had been acting weird for quite some time, ever since he'd gone to visit his summer-custodial father. Things got weirder and weirder with him, until finally, one terrible morning, Shawn called me with what sounded like a complete nervous breakdown.
It later proved to be something not quite so easy. Shawn had fallen in love with a girl, and she had died in a climbing accident. He had overdosed on LSD, trying to kill himself. When he called me, he dragged me right through his bad trip with him, a delightful paranoid delusion reminiscent of the then yet-to-be-released series "The Pretender".
I didn't know what was going on at the time. All I knew, was that Shawn was in trouble, in terrible, deadly trouble, and I had to be there for him. I sent him all the energy I had to spare, and more. I'd been sick that week already, a double ear infection that turned out to be one of the nastiest cases of Swimmer's Ear that the doctor had encountered lately; I couldn't even close my jaw enough to chew. I was existing on pink lemonade and oatmeal (occasionally with blue cheese dressing: my sense of humor was still intact), and this was not making me feel any better. I hadn't eaten yet that morning.
It was several years before I could talk about it coherently. The night it finally came all out (I'd talked about it before, but it hadn't done any good) was to Darkside on the phone shortly after I'd moved into the camping apartment. I hysterically cried my eyes out, and he sat up and listened to me and talked me through it.
I still stutter, randomly, about stuff that's connected to that in some way. Not as much as I used to, though, and very rarely.
This morning, I realized that having gone through that experience with Shawn was one of the primary things that made Votania's collapsing, having a seizure, and getting rushed to the hospital a bearable experience for me. The things about almost having Shawn die that freaked me out most, was not knowing what was going on, and not being able to be there to give him a hug or hold his hand.
We knew what was going on with Votania, after the first little bit. The hospital did all manner of tests on Votania, including an EEG and (was it a CAT scan or an MRI?) something else, to rule out all possible physical causes. Her tests came back normal. In this case, normal is a good thing. After those came back clear, they asked me, as her roommate, if she had been under any unusual stress lately. I began to list off factors, including the switch in management at her job, and the adorable nickname that the customers had given to the new acting manager, the blonde: "That Blonde Bitch". That and the way she's been pushing herself, never just sitting back and relaxing, never having time to: that's a perfect recipe for the body finally saying, "Enough is enough!" and shutting down. Unlike Shawn, we knew what had caused this as soon as all the tests came back. I didn't find out that Shawn had taken drugs to try and overdose until about eight months later. I don't do well with not knowing what is going on. This time I knew why Votania had collapsed, so I could handle it.
I was there for her. Marx called and left a message on the answering machine with what had happened, roughly, and where they were. I called the hospital, confirmed that she was there, and scooted over there. They allowed both of us in the emergency room, and we each stood at the side of her bed, each holding a hand. We remained there with her until they moved her into the ICU, and then we stayed with her until they needed absolute stillness for the EEG, and then we stayed with her until I had to go with her mom to collect Nephew, and Marx stayed until they booted all visitors out. I was there for her. I was there when she was waking up, groggy and confused, not really sure what day it was, or why, exactly, she was here, or which hospital she was in. I wasn't there for Shawn when he came down from his acid trip, and called me, sounding seven years old, alone in a strange place without his mommy or his teddy bear. That day, all I was able to do for him was be a voice on the phone, and tell him to wrap up in the blanket I made for him. For Votania, I was there when she was feeling lost and alone, and I was there when she was unconscious, and I got there as soon as I could, and I stayed as long as I could. She collapsed, and Marx was there to call 911, and we were both there as she made the long struggle up towards consciousness.
I couldn't have been strong for Marx, been calm enough to sit there holding her hand pouring good energy into her, if I hadn't gone through that hell with Shawn. Things happen for a reason. He survived, and I survived, and I am stronger from the experience. I was the voice of sanity that he needed, the comfort when he returned, and he survived. I hated him for having done that to me for years afterward. I'm still angry with him. I wasn't able to feel anything about that for so long. It felt like I was wearing a mask of wax, frozen inside my mind, tight on my face. Most people can't feel anything from me empathically when I freeze like that. Darkside's one of the few who can extract any form of coherence from me at those points. But I can feel about it now. Ro was right: it was leaking acid inside me, and now I can feel it to do something about it.
Shawn found the love of his life, lost her, and tried to die. He could have conceivably taken me with him. We both survived. Because he pulled that goddamn stupid stunt, I was able to be calm and coherent enough to help pull Votania through her post-seizure incoherence. I'd almost had a friend die before, but that situation was so fucked-up that it really traumatized me. I think I may still find myself stuttering about it from time to time, but not half as much as I used to. Votania's seizure/collapse (a two-for-one combo, same low price!) was straightforward and uncomplicated; we knew what was going on, after the initial scariness of not knowing, she was in a hospital where they could give her proper medical attention and respond if there were any later crises besides the intial seizure (thankfully, the EEG showed no more seizure activity in her brain), and we were able to be right there with her until she was out of danger.
The realization that she could have died of this hit me hardest after Grandma had taken Nephew home with her, and taken Marx to drop off at his mom's house, and Neighbor had left to go home and get some sleep. I panicked and went into shock, and Darkside and
iroshi took care of me. I wouldn't be doing so well if I hadn't had the horrible experience with Shawn to let me know that almost losing a friend can be so very much worse than a simple case of a seizure brought on by job stress.
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...Oh, damn. You know this guy...
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