Personal Narrative Fiction

Sedated for the car ride there, not having a clear sense of where she was for a couple of weeks, they were slow to give her the antipsychotics again. More weeks passed. She was there so long that the sling over her arm and brace over her ankle were taken back long before she was released. Nothing easy about it. For a long time, she didn’t trust the doctors, fought, bit and scratched them at every bare-skinned, unrestrained opportunity. Nearly all the time they had her restrained. Her medication had to be administered through a saline drip because she’d chomped her tongue a quarter of the way through when they handed to her in a Dixie cup and some water in pill form. But the doctor there, Dr. Immanuel, who every nurse and patient there called Dr. Manny, was not towards Elaine ever negligent in the slightest, but as gentle and kind …show more content…
“How ya feeling?” his lap supported a brown clipboard and his fingers drummed against it. She sort of wished he’d stop.
“Well, besides the fact I’m craving Thai food and I can’t leave to go get some, pretty good.”
“I’ll bring you some Thai food.” When he smiled his mouth moved slightly down and away from his mustache. “Where’s a good Thai place?”
“Bangkok.”
“Oh, you’re funny.”
It was an actual restaurant in town. But she didn’t feel like explaining it. Let him think she was that clever.
His trigger finger deftly tapped on the clipboard, signaling the start of “the business”.
“How are your symptoms? Is the medication consistent?”
“It’s doing what it’s supposed to?”
“What it’s supposed to?” leading her on to tell him more.
“I’ve told you what it does to me.”
He nodded, remembering, “The emotion numbing, the clouding of the mind. You’re still experiencing them?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re still aware that’s to be expected with as strong of an anti-psychotic that we have you