" Choose life. Choose a job.
Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television,
Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin
openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance.
Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home.
Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a
three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose
DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on
that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing
fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it
all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an
embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to
replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I
want to do a thing like that?
I chose not to choose life: I
chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who need
reasons when you've got heroin?"
" C'est n'est pas "un état d'anxiété", c'est une morte lente qui
s'empare du morphinomane pour peu qu'on le prive de sa morphine une
heure ou deux. L'air lui fait défaut, il ne peut pas l'avalere...pas
une cellule de son corps qui ne soit pas en manque... de quoi?
Impossible à définir ou à expliquer. Bref, l'homme n'est plus. Il est déconnecté. Ce
qui se meut, ce qui s'angoisse, ce qui souffre, c'est un cadavre. Il
n'aspire et ni ne pense à rien d'autre qu'à la morphine. La morphine!
Mourir
de soif est un mort paradisiaque, bienheureuse, comparée à la soif de
morphine. C'est ainsi, sans doute, qu'un enterré vivant s'efforce
d'attraper les dérisoires dernières bulles d'air de son cercueil et se
lacère la poitrine avec les ongles. C'est ainsi qu'un hérétique gémit et
se débat sur le bûcher lorsque les premières flames lui léchent les
pieds... La mort, une mort à sec, à petit feu ..."
Mikhail Bulgakov, "MORPHINE"
Pentru ca Bulgakov este in topul meu 10.
Pentru ca addictia nu este o probleme de vointa.
Pentru ca addictia te face sa zbori, te ajuta sa traiesti dar te si ingroapa de viu.
Pentru ca oamenii astia sunt oameni speciali.
Pentru ca au nevoie sa fie intelesi, sprijiniti si vazuti.
Pentru ca oamenii astia sunt tot ceea ce este ascuns in noi!
Din punct de vedere muzical cred ca this deep amazing voice sounds a lot like morphine. Mark Sandman died in 1999, infarct.
It happened to my colleagues (nurses and doctors). They all have their graveyard. We all have it,as doctors.
But I remember precisely how it happened to me.
12.02 (I was thinking of going out eating something but still had some paper work to do). Phone rings. A nurse answers. She immediately screams in the medical unit : “We have a patient who hang himself! Fast, fast!”
12.04 We took the emergency backpack and we’ve started running on the empty hall ways. The doors from one sector to another one we’re opening so slow. We were running... The doors were slamming back after our passage. 1.2.3.4.5.6.7. doors and 2 floors.
12.10 He is in the “new comers” wing. Second floor. We split. Take the stair it will be quicker. I jump 2 stairs at a time. Second floor. Full of people. I couldn’t see their faces. I could just see the patient, lying down, not moving and the sheets hanging by the window bars.
12.15 A person was already doing the CPR. The patient was not moving, I didn’t have a pulse. He seemed ... We continue the CPR. We don’t want to loose him, we don’t want to call it, we cannot loose him, breathe God damn it. 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9.10.11.12.13.14.15.16.17.18.19.20.21.22.23.24.25.26.27.28.29.30 1.2. “all hands off the patient!” again and again and again! God if you can hear me, if you are there, please, don’t let him die! At some point I think I’ve realized I cannot do anything and that he was gone.
“ ... and the hardest part was letting go, not taking part ...” (Coldplay).
12.40 The ambulance arrives. They try to intubate him. They call it off.
I don’t remember doing the way back to the medical unit. I think I’ve cried but silently as the nurse student was in shock. When I’ve arrived to the medical unit everyone knew what happened after the look of my face. I got hugs and everyone kept on saying that we did everything possible. He would have done it any how sooner or latter. Somehow, it didn’t comfort me. How could it?
It was my patient. I did everything. He died, hung, in a prison cell, alone. Young, too young, had a family.
I felt weak. I felt Small, Guilty, Inefficient. He shouldn’t have been dead.
And then I realized he was not my first and he will not be my last. Because I’m a M.D. and sometimes you can simply not save them. It’s just that the whole system is wrong. I dislike prisons and any kind of structure who uses the abuse of power. Maybe this man didn’t belong in prison. When abuse it’s the only way of justice death and all of her friends come along.
And I am tired but I won’t give in (or at least I’ll try).
“ Cause sometimes you just feel tired,
Feel weak, and when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up.
But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength
And just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up
And not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse.
Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out
Till my legs give out, can’t shut my mouth.
Till the smoke clears out.
Am I high? Perhaps
I'ma rip this s*** till my bones collapse...
...I will not fall, I will stand tall.” (Eminem)
So I hope that he’s in a better place. He would have done it sooner or latter prison or not prison. I have a bitter taste though. See you at a bitter end(Placebo).
And oh I do not fancy your life “dramas” as I know that worse is and always will be possible.
Ca sa inteleg adevaratul sens al cuvantului canicula m-am mutat eu in Franta?
NU!
Ca ma topesc ca o inghetata pe canapea, sa transpir iesind de la dus, sa fac alergie, la propriu, m-am mutat eu in Strasbourg?
NU!
Si atunci va intreb eu pe voi WTF??!! 41° toata ziua, 35° grade noaptea! How am I suppose to sleep? How am I suppose to function working all day long without air conditioning? Nu v-ati fi asteptat la asta de la un spital din Franta,nu? Ei bine realitatea este cruda si inflexibila : nu este aer conditionat, avem doar ventilatoare care recircula doar aerul cald (deci, eficienta zero) si lucram cu halatele din bumbac peste hainele de strada. DAR avem dus la munca! Este, dom'le, ca trag cu urechea si cu ochiul toti colegii de sex masculin (cu exceptia celor gay si poate a celui transexual?!) nu mai conteaza. Oricum in momentul in care iesi de la dus esti acoperit de transpiratie, so why bother? (cred ca pe varianta asta functioneaza pacientii mei care isi imagineaza ca, fiind uzi in permanenta nu mai am au nevoie de dus ca doar si ala tot cu apa sa face, macar transpiratia e moka).
In afara de canicula asta infecta am si vesti bune.
De la inceputul lui mai am inceput sa lucrez si la spital, pe addictologie. Finally I am payed for doing the specialty that I was trained to do. And I'm loving it in all her complexity, addictology is the QUEEN! When I am not doing this I am at prison break. Everything advances as planned. Soon I will conquer the world!
Meanwhile I am saving money for buying a car (asta dupa ce mi-am dat seama ca ma pot descurca perfect si fara voiture, mai putin cand sunt de astreint si sunt totusi de astreint o saptamana/5). Deci, desi nu imi face nici o placere deosebita sa fiu eco unfriendly by buying a new car it seems that I don't have a choice.
In august plec in V A C A N T A. Atat de bine ilustrat e cuvantul asta de hit-ul Madonnei :
Plec D O U A SAPTAMANI I N T R E G I in Vietnam! My feet are itchy already! I haven't been on a trip since Mai, S(LOVE)ENIA si Venice (blearch, o sa scriu poate vreodata un post despre cum mi-a displacut profund Venetia si despre cum SLOVENIA KICKS ASS).
Asta daca nu o sa ma descompun pana atunci, din cauza caldurii.
Intr-o zi ma intorceam de la Prison Break, cu tramvaiul, si eram foarte concentrata in unul de cursurile de addicto : cred ca era cel despre complicatiile hepatice ale exogenozei cronice. Si cum aveam castile in urechi, eram concentrata in lumea mea in mod :"vizualizare 3d a cirozei hepatice". La un moment dat mi s-a parut ca barbatul asezat pe scaunul din fata mea incearca sa comunice cu mine asa ca imi scot castile din urechi si intreb, politicos, "pardon?". La care omul ma intreaba daca asta este meseria mea, sa ingrijesc "aceste" persoane. I-am raspuns obosita si mandra ca : "Oui." La care acel necunoscut mi-a zis admirativ si cu ochii plini de bunatate : "C'est ca l'humanité!".
Si atunci m-am gandit cu bucurie ca o umanista idealista pasionata de literatura si-a gasit manusa perfecta in adictologie. No regrets.
O sa revin in curand, sper, cu o postare despre Slovenia si Venetia. Si poate despre Portugalia (I am deeply in love with this country and with her people).
" ... - It
wouldn't be bad but I don't like being stuck in one place. I want to be
free to go wherever I like and think about whatever I want. I want to
live free. - But this is not very easy. - You're right, it's not easy. But I am determined. I want to be free..."
"Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage" by HARUKI MURAKAMI
" No more chances.2 strikes. That's what she gets. Russians don't play baseball." OISTNB
Maybe that after all in my Romanian souls it is a Russian part also.
I do business, I don't deal, I don't settle.
If I want something I will get it. With hard work and straight playing. I am afraid that honesty is not "on the wave" since ... forever. So I guess that I'm kind of screwed. But I'll never lose hope. I truly believe that in this world there is a country which is mine, according to my soul and my life principles.
I know that wonderland is something that you create not something that you stumble upon but sometimes it's fucking difficult.
https://soundcloud.com/sonsofrico
" Two speeds in my yard : walk and shuffle!" OISTNB
remember, remember the 6th of December 2014 because that was the first day of the rest of my life : I received the gift of life the 2nd time.
play this first :
How today changed my life.
Today I had my first car accident.
I am physically fine. No contusions. Just my ego : broken.
I'm fine, everything's just fine but I am in a shock state which I think it's normal.
I
was coming back from Nancy and at some point I was entering from a
small road to the highway and my car start spinning. It happened so
fast. I spinned like 4 or 5 times and hit the safety bar.
But
while I was spinning, I realised that I'm out of control. I was
spinning, my hands were clenched on the steering wheel, and my mind
was...blank. For the first time in my life I had no idea whatsoever
crossing my mind. Nothing! But I am pretty sure that I've seen a
rainbow and I am sure that the song playing on the radio was "Beat it"
from Mickael Jackson.
Like a robot I put on my security
vest, I got out of the car on the other side as on my side the door was
deformed, I put the triangle 5 m away from my car. Got back into the car
and called the cops. And after a car stopped, the man took me out of
the car, on the other side of the road. After what seemed to be an
eternity (20 minutes) the cops came, moved my car, filled in the rapport
and after that a big truck came and took us (me&Mona, my car) to
the service. They told me that it's probably better to buy a new car
than to repair Mona. My heart was broken. This is my first car, the
first important material stuff that I bought with my own savings since
coming in France. It has a big emotional value as it was a gift for my
parents.
While I was thinking how should I give my parents the bad news that they don't/won't have a car anymore the truck guy told me : "
Anyways it's just a big pile of metal! You don't realise how lucky you
were that you didn't hit another car/other cars. You could have been
dead/handicapped or you could have killed someone."
And then it hit me : he was so right! I was so lucky! I am alive!
But
while I was spinning, I realised that I'm out of control. I was
spinning, my hands were clenched on the steering wheel, and my mind
was...blank. For the first time in my life I had no idea whatsoever
crossing my mind. Nothing! But I am pretty sure that I've seen a rainbow
and I am sure that the song playing on the radio was "Beat it" from
Mickael Jackson.
This was my Saint Nicolas gift for me :
the value of life (of course I could have done this a different way but I
like pushing my limits and on the other side it would have been less
life changing, just another brick in the wall). Dramatic pose. Oh, the
fans!
Latter edit (the 9th of January 2015) : MONA is alive, she was saved by my beloved Hizo, our car "fixer" since ... forever. Love, peace and respect because he has the most awesome gold bracelet ("your job is your gold bracelet", Romanian saying).
