Mangled Hearts

by Felicia Tatum

  Detoxing my body wasn’t what I expected. After Cason left, a nurse came in and asked me a million questions. She did the basic doctor’s office stuff: blood pressure, temperature, weight, height, medical history. It was time consuming, but really, what else did I have to do? Nikki, that was her name, explained what all would happen to me during the next few days, the options I had available medically, and made me sign a paper stating this was my decision and gaining sobriety was my goal. It felt weird, going through all of this, but it also felt right. I’d been hiding behind the bottle for too long now. I hadn’t really lived. I was inching closer to thirty years old and had nothing to show for it. It really was no wonder I was a disappointment to Pops. I was a disappointment to myself.

  An hour or so after Nikki left, a man named Reid came in.

  “Hello, Cade. My name is Reid,” he said, holding his hand out.

  “Hey,” I said, shaking his hand. I didn’t know anyone else was coming in. It made me feel uneasy.

  “I just wanted to stop by and talk to you about this. I’m a sponsor at the local alcoholics anonymous, and I hope you’ll come to meetings with me when you’re finished here. I was in your exact spot three years ago. I spent four months in this facility, and the worst part of it was when I would get upset and couldn’t have a drink. I’m here to show you it’s possible, all of this,” he said, holding his hands in the air, “is for your benefit, but you have to keep wanting it. Becoming sober was the best decision I ever made. I’m leaving my card with the receptionist, so please call me if you need anything.”

  He seemed nice enough. His hair was light brown and curly, his eyes a grayish color. He was tall and hardly seemed the type that would have been an alcoholic for years. Would anyone ever look at me and think it seemed impossible? “How bad is detoxing?” I called out as he was turning to leave.

  He stopped, sat back down, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I won’t lie, it’s not fun. It’s different for everyone, but you’ll mostly feel really sick. You may not remember much during the next few days. If it gets bad enough, the nurses will knock you out. They generally don’t like to do that, but sometimes it’s necessary,” he explained. “Can I ask how long you’ve been in this shape? It may help me to determine how bad it can get. They have a chart, withdrawals range from mild to severe. Most everyone that comes here has some sort of mild symptoms.”

  “You know a lot about this,” I said, leaning forward. “Why do you do this?”

  “Cade, I know we just met, but I want to help you. I had no one when I decided to get sober. It was hell going through it all alone, so once I hit my one year recovery, I became a sponsor, I began working here as a counselor. I do anything and everything I can to make sure no one ever feels the way I did.”

  “I have my brother,” I said, still sizing him up. It was strange for me to sit here and talk about my problems like this. I didn’t like it one bit.

  “Has he been through this? Detoxing, rehab?” he questioned. The look in his eyes told me he already knew the answer.

  I shook my head. I could feel my hands beginning to shake. That’s how it started last time, too. “I feel shaky,” I confessed. He wanted to help, might as well let him.

  “You can ask me anything you want next week, ok? I’ll come every day if it’ll help you. It’ll be best if I leave now, though. Talking about this stuff while detoxing is frowned upon,” he admitted, standing once again.

  “I can’t see my family, or the woman I love. Could you stay and just talk for a little longer? I want to know more about this facility and the process.”

  “I’ll tell you more next week. I’ll come by on Saturday and see how you are doing in the detoxing stage. If all is well, we’ll talk all day,” he said, giving me a warm smile.

  “Ok,” I said, standing to walk him to the door. I opened it, stepped aside for him to exit, and asked one final question. “Hey, why don’t any of these doors have locks?”

  “Because you’re free to go whenever you’d like, Cade. This isn’t jail or punishment or anything of that sort. You’re here because you want to be and the lock free environment is to help remind you of that,” he grinned again, patted me on the back, and exited my room.

  I watched him leave and when he got half way down the hallway, I called out, “Hey, Reid? Thank you.”

  He nodded in acknowledgement and continued on. I settled in front of the TV, praying what to come wouldn’t be as bad as I imagined.

  “Mr. Kelling?” a soft voice asked, pulling me from sleep.

  I opened my eyes, seeing a tall blonde with scrubs on standing over me. She looked familiar, but my head was pounding, so I couldn’t remember her name at the moment. “Yeah?”

  “Nikki here,” she smiled, “I’m just going to check your vitals. Your body has started detoxing, so I or the night nurse will be in here more often to make sure your body responds well.”

  Detoxing. “That’s why I have a headache,” I groaned, pulling myself to sitting position.

  “Yes, and why you’re sweating.”

  “What else could happen?” I inquired as she cuffed the BP monitor on me.

  “Well, there’s a range of symptoms, Mr. Kelling,” she started.

  I interrupted, “Please call me Cade.” My voice was weak. I didn’t sound like myself at all.

  “Cade,” she corrected, smiling. “Withdrawal symptoms can be shakiness, headaches, vomiting, nausea, nightmares, and anxiety, just to name a few. The more severe symptoms—“

  I interjected, “The more severe? Those sound pretty severe to me!” I exclaimed, causing the pounding to increase. I grabbed my head, closed my eyes, and moaned.

  “Don’t get too excited, it makes it worse. And yes, those are considered mild compared to what could happen during withdrawals. You could get hallucinations, have convulsions, or get a fever. We will watch you closely during this stage because if the symptoms turn severe, we will need to get you to the hospital,” she explained, getting her light out to check my eyes.

  I sat still, letting her complete my examination as I thought of what was happening to my body. How did I let myself get this bad? I was actually glad Francesca or my family couldn’t come visit me during this. I didn’t want anyone to see me in this shape. Being so dependent on alcohol did this to me. It was a lot for my brain to wrap around.

  “Do you have any questions?” Nikki asked, her big blue eyes peering at me.

  Had she been talking, I wondered? “Um…nah, not right now. Thanks though,” I said. My voice was thick and hoarse. I felt like I was watching this all from a distance. Nikki left. I felt alone and as much as I hated to admit it, I was afraid. Drinking my issues away was all I knew. What would I do without it? Could I really do this? What if I failed? Would Pops really disown me this time? The questions and the overwhelming feeling I had in my chest was almost too much. I managed to drift off to sleep, dreaming I failed.

  A new nurse, a male, was checking my temperature with that ear thing. The cold metal shocked my system, causing my eyes to pop open as I awoke. “What’s going on?” I asked, groggily.

  “Cade, I’m Daniel. I’m just here to check on you. Nikki’s shift finished an hour ago, so I’m your nurse now,” he explained, gripping my wrist to check my pulse.

  “I feel sick,” I moaned out. My stomach was in knots. The waves of nausea could only be compared to seasickness. I felt like I had the one, and only, time I’d been out on the ocean on a large boat. I didn’t like the feeling then, I hated it now. “I may throw up,” I admitted.

  He nodded, and went to his rolling cart. He got a white pill out of one of his bottles, bringing it to me. “This is zofran, it will help with the nausea. Just hold it under your tongue and it will dissolve,” he instructed.

  I did as he said. My hands were shaking and I almost dropped it, but Daniel helped steady them enough so I could do it myself. I felt like an invalid, an idiot, for being in t
his position. I vowed to never again let myself get in this situation. The medicine worked rather quickly, thankfully. My head pounded, my body sweated, and my limbs shook. I did the only thing I could…I lay back, breathing slowly and deeply, and thought of Francesca.

  Josie’s Funeral-5 years Prior

  I’d watched Francesca’s sister die. The life left her body, leaving a beautiful corpse that reminded me too much of the one my heart was attached to. I called 911 as soon as I realized her car was losing control. They’d gotten there in record time, prying her out of the car, but it was useless. Her soul was gone.

  The days that passed were horrible. I drank myself into a stupor, wanting nothing more than to go to Francesca. Comfort her, love her, be there for her. I knew she would be there, at the funeral, and while the thought of seeing her so sad and broken tore me in two, but I knew I had to go. I had to be there for her. To show Josie respect and show Francesca I cared.

  The day arrived. My stomach was twisted like a pretzel, my mind racing with thoughts of what could have been. It could have been me that died…and Francesca wouldn’t be hurting now. I was a waste, just someone to hurt her over and over. Why couldn’t it have just been me? The funeral home was packed. Students, teachers, family, and friends all crowded in the small space, crying and sharing stories of Josie. I spotted Francesca almost immediately. Her dark blonde tresses were in a braid, her face natural, yet gorgeous. Her eyes were bloodshot and she wasn’t speaking to anyone. She stayed in the reserved seats, not doing anything but staring at Josie and the casket. I gasped, not wanting to see this anymore. I couldn’t handle the sad expression on her face, the devastation that clouded her eyes. The once bright and shining eyes that would captivate and entice me were dull from pain. My heart burned, like a fire coursing through my veins, from seeing her like this. I moved to talk to her, but a guy, not much younger than me, walked up and grabbed her hand. The jealous rage I felt wasn’t something I was used to. I wanted to rip his arm off, take her into mine, and declare he wasn’t to touch her again. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and I knew they had to be dating. My heart fell, taking my hopes along with it. I couldn’t do this, wouldn’t do this. Stand by and watch another man comfort her when all I wanted to do was take all her pain away. I turned, signing the guest book, and left. She would know I was there. It would have to be enough.

  Present Day

  I drifted in and out of consciousness that first night. Daniel checked my vitals every hour or so. He wasn’t as talkative as Nikki, but was nice enough. I didn’t feel as detached as I had Saturday when this happened. Maybe I was because I was mentally prepared, perhaps it hadn’t gotten that far yet. I really didn’t know, but I prayed it didn’t get any more severe.