a revelation or two.

On Monday morning, I awoke at six.  I was fortunate to have been able to sleep for a few hours.  I have been drinking for so long, I can't remember if I had ever had a normal sleep cycle.  I envy those people who can lay their head down and be asleep in minutes, waking up cheerful and refreshed seven hours later.  How is that possible?  I took a quick shower and actually shaved for the first time in a week.  This was no mean feat, as the razors supplied by the VA are those yellow plastic, single-edged contraptions.  It took me a full fifteen minutes to finish the job.  I switched out my pajamas for a fresh pair, and grabbed new socks from the nurses station.  Breakfast had arrived, so I grabbed my tray from the warmer and found an open seat across from my old friend Don.  'He's alive,' Don said as I slid into my chair.  'Hey buddy.  I'm alive, but barely.  How are you making out?'  'Leaving this afternoon, heading to a transitional place down by the cape.  It's supposed to be decent, I don't know,' he said.  He was finished with his breakfast.  'Well, if I don't see you, good luck,' I said.  'You too, man,' he said, and stood up and left.  And I thought to myself, that's about the closest friend I have right now.

I was sitting in front of the treatment team.  'You look like you made it through the weekend pretty well,' said the doctor.  'You look much better.'  'Thanks,' I said.  'I feel better.'  And I meant it.  'Our plan is to discharge you on Wednesday.  Do you have a place to go?' the social worker asked.  I thought about that for a second.  And, for the first time in my life, I couldn't say that I did.