Three months. Another three months. This is taken exactly six months out of my life so far. I can't let it take control any more. I can't let it do this to me once again. This is it. A new start, a new beginning. I can do this. I really can. I just can't believe I had to go through everything for a damn slight relapse. It wasn't as bad as it was before. It just a minor mistake. And then all over again. I was through the withdrawal within the first week. I was condemned to eleven weeks of therapy and group sessions. In a way I hated it, and now, when I'm finally done with it, I'm thanking the fates they sent me here. I don't know why. It's such an adverse feelings. When I was inside, I wanted to be out. And now when I'm out, I want to stay there. It's the feeling of security, of belonging. No one to judge me for the person I am. Everyone understands, one way or another, that I"m not perfect, and never will be. I give a hug to my counsellor, James, on the way out. He was the most understanding of all. And I guess I have him to thank for my life back. I head out the yellow taxi waiting in front for me. The tickets is in my hand, my keys as well. My bags are already in the trunk. I give the center a small wave as I go. I'm a better person now. I just needed the break to sort everything out. I'm okay. I"m going to be okay. I can still put my life back together, glue everything back together, and get on with it. It's in the end, just a mild stepping stone.
When I go back to Chicago, I have to stop by Lucy's grave. I haven't been there since before the rehab, the first time. It hurt too much. I miss her. I wish she was here. She was the sweetest, kindest, most gentle person ever. I still say it should have been me to die. She would have made a spectacular doctor. The ride to the airport takes shorter than I remember it the first time. I guess I've just gotten used to the surroundings. It's Atlanta, it's a gorgeous city, but it's just not for me. My father loved it though. Heh, he managed to visit me. I think our relationship is going to be okay. I was so frightened the second time, he would be disappointed or disown me. But he only stood by me more. I underestimate him all the time. He's not a bad person. He never was. I just needed to realize he's not as open as I wish he was. I love my father, I guess it took me a while to stop blaming him for not being there, and thank him for the all the times he was there. Because all the times he did show up, those times meant more to me than anything. He did alot for me. He managed to close my condo and sell it, although the location was beautiful, I doubt he had a problem. He shuffled paperwork for the foundation, and for my person benefit. He even managed to set up my new condo and get everything shipped over there. I don't know if it had taken alot of effot, but I"m glad to know he cares enough.
I walk through the crowded airport towards my gate, number 7. From Atlanta, Georgia to Boston, Massachusettes. It took alot of thought and convincing, but I finally managed to give myself a few good reasons for leaving Chicago. All thanks to James. He's the one that hinted at getting away from Chicago, and he's the one that said he could pull a few strings, and maybe get me into BUMC. It's one of the top Trauma Centers in the world. And I was accepted a few days ago. I really didn't believe it. I mean I still have somethings I'm going to have to go through like the random drug testing for a period of one year, and mandatory NA meetings for ninety days, but considering I'm getting away from where it all started, I"m better off. I walk up towards the ramp, and I help an older woman get to her seat. I move up closer to the front, where there usually are less people, and grab a set by the window.
And then there's Abby. That is a completely different story. I spent one week blaming her, two weeks hating her, and nine weeks forgetting her. I think I've finally managed to do it. Unless I see her again, but I probably won't. I guess I needed to get away from her the most. She still controls most of my thoughts, but I'm slowly gaining power over that, too. I just can't believe the way I treated her. I wish I could call and say I"m sorry, or say it to her face, but I can't. Because it'll start all over again. And I don't want it to. It can't. I hope to god she's not drinking, and that Bryce is okay. She's such a good person, she can't let her insecurities and fear run her life. The plane has finally taken off, and in about an hour and a half, I should be walking through the doors of Boston University Medical Center's Emergency Room, looking for my latest employer. From what James told me, she was nice and friendly. I hope she really was. I can't deal with another Weaver. Although she had called a few times and she seemed genuinely concerned. She was even a bit glad I was getting away from County, opening new horizons.
I don't know what had gone wrong the second time. I thought I had everything under control. But I'm an addict. I will always be an addict. Even if I'm a "recovering" addict, I'm still and addict. I need to realize that. And even one Tylenol can throw me over. It's a rough game, but I have control of it now, for sure. I know I do. At least I hope I do. I fall asleep for the majority of the plane ride. I'm excited for what's going to happen. I want to start over. This is the new beginning I need. I get off the plane, the jet lag that usually annoys me, not getting to me this time. It was only a short flight though. I walk out through the doors, greeted by spring in Boston. It's a bit chilly, but all in all, gorgeous. I head towards a Taxi. I have to stop by the hospital first and check in. Then I plan to go home and see what chaos my father reaked upon my new condo. I eargely look out the windows at the city like a little kid. I can't help it. It's beautiful. One of those old colonial style cities. We reach the hospital, and I hadn't even realized when. It's so huge. But it's got everything inside. I tell the cabbie where to drop off my stuff, my father is at my place right now, he called a few minutes ago. I get out and pay him, then head into the huge glass doors. I get through security without a problem and head towards what I hope is the main desk in the ER. It's so huge. I'm growing more excited by the minute.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Dr. Denison."
The receptionist is actually doing her job, and checks the board.
"She's in curtain one, but she'll be back in a second. Are you Dr. Carter?"
I shake my head yes to the woman. She gives me a smile.
"Hi, I'm Deborah. We've been expecting you."
I give her my hand and she shakes it. After a few seconds the phone rings, so she gets back to work, signalling me to wait around. I take a closer look around. The funding isn't great here either, but everything seems to be getting done. They have committed doctors and nurses. Some of the best in the country. I'm looking out at what seems to be exam rooms when I hear my name being called, and I turn around. In front of me stands a woman, with long dark brown hair, about 5' 8" in stature with piercing green eyes and a beautiful smile on her face.
"Hi. I'm Dr. Denison. Or Annette."
I'm getting over the shock of the woman in front of me. She is absolutely breath-taking. I'm a bit thrown back. I guess I pictured anyone that looks like her to either be a businesswoman, a lawyer, or a housewife that does absolutely nothing but run the maids. She shakes my hand and she throws her charts on the desk.
"Sorry, I had a little girl who was terrified of getting a shot. How was your flight?"
She's trying to sign off on most of her charts at once. It's actually quite cute. Her hair is flying in front of her face.
"It was okay."
She nods her head, and mutters something about good. She throws the charts into the discharge tray and looks at me.
"I'm kidnapping you."
I give her a questioning look. She's a little too outgoing and eccentric. But maybe that can be good.
"I'll be back in about two hours Deb."
The receptionist smiles and nods her head. Annette checks for her pager and then looks at me.
"NA. It's mandatory remember? And I run the meetings, so you're coming with me."
We head out into the brisk air, but it's warmer now. It's about noon, so the sun is warming everything up.
"Get used to the walking, Boston is a walking city. The roads are horrible."
I give her a little laugh. I dont' walk much, so I guess I better start.
"James tells me you're a wonderful doctor."
I give her a smile.
"I hope he's right."
She looks at me, giving me this sexy little smile. So when I promised myself no relationships for a while, I lied.
"He's never wrong."
I laugh. I've only known her for less than fifteen minutes, but she intrigues me. She's so energetic and positive.
"So you run the NA meetings?"
She nods her head.
"Yeah. Both NA and AA. I alternate with a few people with running meetings. We've started doing just NA or just AA because Narcotics and Alcohol seem similar, but they really aren't. I guess it makes people feel better knowing that there are other people with the same exact problem."
We're walking down the streets, and she wasn't kidding about the traffic being horrible. But the cities breathe taking.
"Are you...?'
She shakes her head.
"No. But my father... But my father was a doctor. He was on trauma call one night. There was a woman stuck inside a car, and he needed to get on scene. Somehow he managed to get to her, and stop the bleeding, but another car rammed into that whole mess. He was pinned in-between two sheets of metal for over 14 hours. After that, he was paralysed from the waist down. And that's when everything started."
I look at her, and she's suddenly lost that gleam of energy.
"I'm sorry."
She shakes her head.
"I saw the change in him, you know. I knew something was up, my mother and I, we just couldn't get to him. He overdosed one night, and that was it. I had lost my hero. I guess since then, I've become more and more involved in the groups. It helps heal wounds. What about you?"
I bite on my lip a bit.
"The first time or the relapse?"
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Both?"
I've become a bit more comfortable talking with people about it, but suddenly I feel like I could spill my soul to her.
"The first time, I was stabbed in the back with a six inch butcher knife..."
She cringes a bit, and a look of empathy crosses her face.
"The relapse.. Well the relapse was a a combination of things, work, stress, relationships, everything I guess."
She gives me an understanding glace. I know she understands. We reach a building and I open the door for her, she goes in and I step after her. A few people wave to her, and she waves back, smiling enuthusiatically, the same person she was back at the hospital.
"We've got a good group. You'll like it. Wait for me after the meeting, and we'll go out for lunch?"
I nod my head and she smiles. I head off to grab a seat somewhere in the middle. I guess I hadn't expected everything to come crashing down in one day, but it's not a bad thing. Just different. And I think I like it. Alot.
When I go back to Chicago, I have to stop by Lucy's grave. I haven't been there since before the rehab, the first time. It hurt too much. I miss her. I wish she was here. She was the sweetest, kindest, most gentle person ever. I still say it should have been me to die. She would have made a spectacular doctor. The ride to the airport takes shorter than I remember it the first time. I guess I've just gotten used to the surroundings. It's Atlanta, it's a gorgeous city, but it's just not for me. My father loved it though. Heh, he managed to visit me. I think our relationship is going to be okay. I was so frightened the second time, he would be disappointed or disown me. But he only stood by me more. I underestimate him all the time. He's not a bad person. He never was. I just needed to realize he's not as open as I wish he was. I love my father, I guess it took me a while to stop blaming him for not being there, and thank him for the all the times he was there. Because all the times he did show up, those times meant more to me than anything. He did alot for me. He managed to close my condo and sell it, although the location was beautiful, I doubt he had a problem. He shuffled paperwork for the foundation, and for my person benefit. He even managed to set up my new condo and get everything shipped over there. I don't know if it had taken alot of effot, but I"m glad to know he cares enough.
I walk through the crowded airport towards my gate, number 7. From Atlanta, Georgia to Boston, Massachusettes. It took alot of thought and convincing, but I finally managed to give myself a few good reasons for leaving Chicago. All thanks to James. He's the one that hinted at getting away from Chicago, and he's the one that said he could pull a few strings, and maybe get me into BUMC. It's one of the top Trauma Centers in the world. And I was accepted a few days ago. I really didn't believe it. I mean I still have somethings I'm going to have to go through like the random drug testing for a period of one year, and mandatory NA meetings for ninety days, but considering I'm getting away from where it all started, I"m better off. I walk up towards the ramp, and I help an older woman get to her seat. I move up closer to the front, where there usually are less people, and grab a set by the window.
And then there's Abby. That is a completely different story. I spent one week blaming her, two weeks hating her, and nine weeks forgetting her. I think I've finally managed to do it. Unless I see her again, but I probably won't. I guess I needed to get away from her the most. She still controls most of my thoughts, but I'm slowly gaining power over that, too. I just can't believe the way I treated her. I wish I could call and say I"m sorry, or say it to her face, but I can't. Because it'll start all over again. And I don't want it to. It can't. I hope to god she's not drinking, and that Bryce is okay. She's such a good person, she can't let her insecurities and fear run her life. The plane has finally taken off, and in about an hour and a half, I should be walking through the doors of Boston University Medical Center's Emergency Room, looking for my latest employer. From what James told me, she was nice and friendly. I hope she really was. I can't deal with another Weaver. Although she had called a few times and she seemed genuinely concerned. She was even a bit glad I was getting away from County, opening new horizons.
I don't know what had gone wrong the second time. I thought I had everything under control. But I'm an addict. I will always be an addict. Even if I'm a "recovering" addict, I'm still and addict. I need to realize that. And even one Tylenol can throw me over. It's a rough game, but I have control of it now, for sure. I know I do. At least I hope I do. I fall asleep for the majority of the plane ride. I'm excited for what's going to happen. I want to start over. This is the new beginning I need. I get off the plane, the jet lag that usually annoys me, not getting to me this time. It was only a short flight though. I walk out through the doors, greeted by spring in Boston. It's a bit chilly, but all in all, gorgeous. I head towards a Taxi. I have to stop by the hospital first and check in. Then I plan to go home and see what chaos my father reaked upon my new condo. I eargely look out the windows at the city like a little kid. I can't help it. It's beautiful. One of those old colonial style cities. We reach the hospital, and I hadn't even realized when. It's so huge. But it's got everything inside. I tell the cabbie where to drop off my stuff, my father is at my place right now, he called a few minutes ago. I get out and pay him, then head into the huge glass doors. I get through security without a problem and head towards what I hope is the main desk in the ER. It's so huge. I'm growing more excited by the minute.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Dr. Denison."
The receptionist is actually doing her job, and checks the board.
"She's in curtain one, but she'll be back in a second. Are you Dr. Carter?"
I shake my head yes to the woman. She gives me a smile.
"Hi, I'm Deborah. We've been expecting you."
I give her my hand and she shakes it. After a few seconds the phone rings, so she gets back to work, signalling me to wait around. I take a closer look around. The funding isn't great here either, but everything seems to be getting done. They have committed doctors and nurses. Some of the best in the country. I'm looking out at what seems to be exam rooms when I hear my name being called, and I turn around. In front of me stands a woman, with long dark brown hair, about 5' 8" in stature with piercing green eyes and a beautiful smile on her face.
"Hi. I'm Dr. Denison. Or Annette."
I'm getting over the shock of the woman in front of me. She is absolutely breath-taking. I'm a bit thrown back. I guess I pictured anyone that looks like her to either be a businesswoman, a lawyer, or a housewife that does absolutely nothing but run the maids. She shakes my hand and she throws her charts on the desk.
"Sorry, I had a little girl who was terrified of getting a shot. How was your flight?"
She's trying to sign off on most of her charts at once. It's actually quite cute. Her hair is flying in front of her face.
"It was okay."
She nods her head, and mutters something about good. She throws the charts into the discharge tray and looks at me.
"I'm kidnapping you."
I give her a questioning look. She's a little too outgoing and eccentric. But maybe that can be good.
"I'll be back in about two hours Deb."
The receptionist smiles and nods her head. Annette checks for her pager and then looks at me.
"NA. It's mandatory remember? And I run the meetings, so you're coming with me."
We head out into the brisk air, but it's warmer now. It's about noon, so the sun is warming everything up.
"Get used to the walking, Boston is a walking city. The roads are horrible."
I give her a little laugh. I dont' walk much, so I guess I better start.
"James tells me you're a wonderful doctor."
I give her a smile.
"I hope he's right."
She looks at me, giving me this sexy little smile. So when I promised myself no relationships for a while, I lied.
"He's never wrong."
I laugh. I've only known her for less than fifteen minutes, but she intrigues me. She's so energetic and positive.
"So you run the NA meetings?"
She nods her head.
"Yeah. Both NA and AA. I alternate with a few people with running meetings. We've started doing just NA or just AA because Narcotics and Alcohol seem similar, but they really aren't. I guess it makes people feel better knowing that there are other people with the same exact problem."
We're walking down the streets, and she wasn't kidding about the traffic being horrible. But the cities breathe taking.
"Are you...?'
She shakes her head.
"No. But my father... But my father was a doctor. He was on trauma call one night. There was a woman stuck inside a car, and he needed to get on scene. Somehow he managed to get to her, and stop the bleeding, but another car rammed into that whole mess. He was pinned in-between two sheets of metal for over 14 hours. After that, he was paralysed from the waist down. And that's when everything started."
I look at her, and she's suddenly lost that gleam of energy.
"I'm sorry."
She shakes her head.
"I saw the change in him, you know. I knew something was up, my mother and I, we just couldn't get to him. He overdosed one night, and that was it. I had lost my hero. I guess since then, I've become more and more involved in the groups. It helps heal wounds. What about you?"
I bite on my lip a bit.
"The first time or the relapse?"
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Both?"
I've become a bit more comfortable talking with people about it, but suddenly I feel like I could spill my soul to her.
"The first time, I was stabbed in the back with a six inch butcher knife..."
She cringes a bit, and a look of empathy crosses her face.
"The relapse.. Well the relapse was a a combination of things, work, stress, relationships, everything I guess."
She gives me an understanding glace. I know she understands. We reach a building and I open the door for her, she goes in and I step after her. A few people wave to her, and she waves back, smiling enuthusiatically, the same person she was back at the hospital.
"We've got a good group. You'll like it. Wait for me after the meeting, and we'll go out for lunch?"
I nod my head and she smiles. I head off to grab a seat somewhere in the middle. I guess I hadn't expected everything to come crashing down in one day, but it's not a bad thing. Just different. And I think I like it. Alot.