Day Thirty-Nine

    ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS***** 

In the morning I go to #1 while Kitten Lady goes to get her dose. I have two heaping bowls of oatmeal, which is usually a good sign for the day. I get an appointment for the clinic at 2:15pm. I sleep outside of #1 while I wait for KL. When she wakes me up and Drama Girl is with her. Ugh. Not who I want to spend my day with. KL has to go back to her clinic for another group so we bullshit until she has to leave.

I take the kitten for her and tell her I'll be at Whole Foods. When the kitten and I arrive there I slip her in my backpack where she falls asleep. I work on the blog where I'm way behind but feel so lonely I text Crochet Buddy and tell him to come be my friend. He's a Johann's Fabric, the lucky bastard but he comes by when he's done. He doesn't stay long as his ex invites him for a day out on the beach so I'm alone again with just KL's kitten for company.

At 1pm I go to lunch at #1 where I lay outside instead of going in to eat. KL wakes me up calling me a poopy pooper face.
"What'd I do this time?" I ask.
"You weren't at Whole Foods."
"Yes I was."
"No you weren't. I went there and you weren't there."
"Oh then I was pooping."
Suddenly there is a loud crash. I jump up. "What was that?"

No one has to answer me. I turn around and see that someone has kicked a hole in the glass window of the 31 building. It's a tall girl no one really knows or talks to. She keeps to herself. There's blood dripping out of her leg. The glass is completely busted; I can't help but admire that hard kick. Beard Man pulls her aside to clean the glass off her leg with gloves and a first aid kit.

"Damn."

Lunch is for once not lasgna but chicken strips and soggy fries. KL brings a plate out to feed herself and the kitten who thankfully eats for the the first time without me having to force feed her. The nursing assistant comes out to get me for my doctor's appointment. He looks at me then looks at KL and asks her if she's coming in with me. It makes me laugh that she's expected to attend my doctor's appointments. We really are getting codependent.

I'm hoping to get in and out in 15 minutes but I have a hefty list:
*Random skin brusing and bumps. (Need to get them checked because Staph is going around in shelter)
*Got poked with a rig
*Scratches from Sheman on Saturday
*Dental referral
*Cough.

I give her my list and she has to write it all down right away so we don't forget anything. It's the weekly injury count I guess. She isn't sure what's up with the bumpies but says she'll do some blood work to make sure my blood is clotting right as the bruises are kind of odd. Not remotely staph though. Scratches are fine, my arm didn't catch any diseases. She perscribes me four medications to try for the cough. Dental referral will be set up. All that's easy. Then it comes to questioning the rig.

"Did you know who's needle it was?"
"No. I reached behind the bed at shelter and got poked."
"And you're sure you don't know who it belonged to?"
"No. Just behind the bed."

This is a blantant lie. I let KL put her rigs in my backpack because they have been searching her in shelter. The cap fell off of one and I poked myself. It wasn't a bad poke. It just drew a tiny bit of blood that I wiped off. KL was more upset about it then I was. She is still apologizing even though it was a week ago. I told her I should probably get tested anyways from staying in shelter. I told her we were even for me spilling Karo syrup in her purse. "We aren't even. That's really bad. I'm really sorry. That's not okay."

She tried to take her rigs out, banned me from reaching into that pocket. I had her pull the rigs and spoons out for me then I threw the broken one out but took the capped ones and spoons and wrapped them in a sock in my shelter locker. I can hear all of you yelling at me for this so just shut it now. (I'm looking at you Spock.) So, yeah I carried rigs around like a dumbass. So spank me. Now, I know where they are, that they are safe, and when she is or isn't using them. I also know she gets a safe place to sleep at night. I like my peace of mind. I'll regret it when I'm older and wiser or something.

Crappy Nurse Man comes to take my blood. My veins are tiny. I'm aware of this. But, I still manage to donate blood (or did when I was healthier) and give vials and vials of blood tests. And I've only ever been poked more than once one time and then it was for an IV with another incompetent nurse. Nurse Man pokes me twice and gets nothing. KL warned me about this. He stuck her 18 times and complained it was her fault from her drug use. I'm irritated. He gives up and another nurse comes and does it from the exact spot all my other doctors and nurses have taken from (I know this spot because it has a scar from so many pokes) on the first try. She takes six tubes of blood.

I didn't really eat so I'm feeling light headed from all of it when I go back outside.#1 has banned KL for three days for taking a plate outside to eat. Stupid people man, stupid people. On top of that her clinic told her she can no longer dose unless she sees her parole officer today. Lastly, a nurse inside the clinic gave her something to put on her face where she is scratched. She did and got a chemical burn as a result. She is not having a good day.

We decide to go to Fred Meyer to buy candy then watch movies all day somewhere. As we're walking KL tells me she got stuck with Drama Girl in the morning. "I don't like hanging out with her. She's boring. All she does is fish for compliments and talk about Dreadlocks." I know this from experience to be true. We end up sitting and using the Fred Meyer internet for over an hour watching videos of people popping giant zits and cysts. Houdini finds us there. We go to sit by the Dollar Store across from shelter. I'm not feeling well; I have a headache and I'm light headed so I lay on the ground.

I go over to McDonalds to pee. I'm in the stall when Drama Girl comes in with another street kid. I don't want to deal with her so I hold my breath and hope she doesn't notice me. She talks to the girl about her butt begging for compliments like usual. I'm rolling my eyes and praying she'll leave when she says,

"You know that white girl KL?"

 I stop. Hold my breath. Listen.
"Yeah." says the other girl.
"God, I'm so sick of seeing her boobs." Drama Girl says complaining about KL not having a bra.
I grit my teeth willing myself not to say something.
"I know right?" the girl says, "I hate that stupid cat she brings into shelter."

They walk out of the bathroom still talking shit. I wait a few minutes then leave too. Drama Girl is sitting at a table and asks me where KL is at.
"Showing her boobs to everybody." I say.

Her mouth falls open and she literally chases me across the street in fear I will tell KL the bullshit she said about her behind her back. I can't shake her even though I almost get her hit by a car. She sits down and starts kissing KL's ass saying she bought her a bra. KL takes the bra awkwardly. I finally can't take anymore and tell her I need to talk to KL about personal stuff.

"It's fine you can talk shit about me," Drama Girl says.
"She doesn't talk shit." KL retorts.
I give her a look that says look who's talking.

When she finally leaves I tell KL what I heard her saying in the bathroom. "God," KL says, "It's not my fault my clothes got stolen. You really can't trust anyone out here."

Drama Girl comes back out with laffy taffy for KL. I find this overly sweet act nauseating. A woman walks by and touches Drama Girl's shoulder. "I had a suggestion for that cat you were talking about," she says then goes on some Dr. Google medical advice rant. Now, I'm the one with my mouth hanging open. KL didn't notice though as she was talking with Houdini.

We walk to shelter where Drama Girl sticks to KL like glue. She desperately does not want me to get to KL alone. I finally do though and tell her quietly about the woman giving Drama Girl information for the cat; It can't help but feel skivvy. Obviously, KL isn't happy. She has not had a good day at all. She goes upstairs and Houdini and I stand outside smoking cigarettes other people have been kind enough to give us. I tell him what I heard in the bathroom and he shakes his head, "You really don't know who your friends are out here."

We go upstairs where I read and write until it is time to do dishes. Those kids ate a ton and fill almost four trays. Nerdboy Wonder comes down with upstair's dishes to wash. He sets them on the stove and leaves. I look over my shoulder and check to make sure he's not coming back then take a giant stack of my dishes and put them in his tray to wash. I then leave my dishes un-dried and the sink still a mess and go upstairs to take a shower and go to bed.

--mm