Travels with Lizbeth: Three Years on the Road and on the Streets by Lars Eighner

Author:Lars Eighner [Eighner, Lars]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2013-12-02T16:00:00+00:00

NINE

Phlebitis: At the Public Hospital

I pressed my thumb into my left ankle.

I easily produced a half-inch dent in the watery swelling, and the dent remained in my ankle after I lifted my thumb.

I had forgotten the system for classifying degrees of edema, but it seemed to me that the relatively sudden onset of this sign would require medical attention.

As I examined my ankle by the light of a convenience store sign, two men on a drinking spree passed on their way to buy more beer at the store. They insisted on buying a bag of dry dog food for Lizbeth. I could not refuse. My leg had been so painful that for more than a week I had been unable to walk more than a few hundred yards at a time. Lizbeth was hungry.

I must have looked pretty ragged. I had not been able to walk to Shipe Playground to bathe. And I had not shaved, conserving the water I could carry for us to drink.

Since I was not bleeding and was breathing regularly I thought it would be useless to go to the emergency room on a Saturday night. Besides, I had to make some arrangement for Lizbeth. As late in the month as it was I guessed Billy would have spent most of his state salary and probably would be at home and relatively sober. Billy had paid a pet deposit at his apartment because he had a cat, and since I now had a bag of food for Lizbeth, he would probably agree to keep her. I had his new telephone credit card number, so I called him.

Billy’s plan that I visit him on the first of every month had been forgotten after May. Perhaps he felt guilty about that. He agreed to pick us up in the morning. He would take me to the emergency room and keep Lizbeth while I was in the hospital. I thought my condition was serious enough that I would be admitted to the hospital. I would not have thought of applying to the emergency room otherwise. Lizbeth and I returned across the street to the pew. I tried always to keep a supply of ibuprofen tablets and I had found some Vicodin, a synthetic codeine, in a Dumpster. Although I was in pain I decided not to take either drug. I did not want to cloud the clinical picture. Besides it had been some time since a safe amount of either drug had helped the pain much and I wanted to save the ibuprofen because it is the only thing I have found that is any good for my migraines.

If there had been ibuprofen when I was younger, when my migraines were more frequent and had disrupted my school and work, perhaps this story would be different.

At the pew I had light enough from a streetlight to write. I began to write out my medical history.

One of the winos came by and wanted me to drink with him, although I had told him many times that I do not drink on the streets.

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