It’s 0545 and the nurse knocks on the door. It’s time for meds, she said abruptly. I was tired and achey from sleeping on a two-inch foam mattress on top of a solid wooden frame, bolted to the floor for my “safety”. I slipped my feet onto the cold, concrete floor and put my shoes on and shuffled down the hallway to the medication window.
My shoes kept flopping up and down since they took my laces. The walls were drab and filled with scuff marks. The windows were three-inches thick and had metal wiring strung through it. It did however, have a very scenic view of the parking lot.
Empty and barren with faded lines. Filled with the loneliness of people never coming to visit. It’s lonely here. Crowded but lonely. Which is the worst kind of lonely.
She put these colorful round and oblong pills into a tiny white medication cup and shoved them through the hole in the window. She poured water in a cup from an old rusted sink. I put the pills in my mouth, took a swig of water.
Mmm. I can taste the chlorine and possible lead on my tongue. Dissolving the pills before I can even swallow them, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Let me see under your tongue, sweetie, she asked condescendingly. I lifted my tongue. She yelled next! before I could even put my tongue back in my mouth.