I sat in the chair at the hair salon yesterday trying to hear what the stylist was saying though her mask.  “What did you say?”  She again repeats that her partner is an EMT and she told her recently that she responds to 18-20 overdoses per day. What?? Per day?  “But not all of these young people die thanks to Narcan.” I wonder how many do die and aren’t saved.  Those too late for Narcan and that can’t be revived. I think of my two clients who have died since December of Heroin ODs.

Earlier in the day, I went to yoga and thought how refreshing to be back on my mat at a class outside without a mask.  Seeing people’s smiles.  At the end of class I hear a fellow student say to the teacher that he is going back to graduate school to work in mental health.  She replies, “perfect for you after what you have been through.”  I couldn’t help but think of what all young people have been through in the past year. How even at this studio one of the teachers died last spring after a relapse.

These thoughts from the class were hovering in the periphery of my mind as I drive home and then end up taking a back road instead.

Dropping like Flies

Get off at Brevard Rd.

Why?

Just do it

Guy with a sign

I am screaming in my head

What’s your DOC (drug of choice)???

Walks up to the car

We stare at each other

I stare

He shakes his head

“You look just like my mom”

“I could be your mom”

“You in recovery?”

“I have been going to the methadone clinic for two weeks”

(pause)

“I have been thinking about going to outpatient”

“Well this is your sign”

Shakes his head

“You look just like my mom”

I shake my head

“I could be your mom”

The light is green and then I realize why I needed to take the back road

I am somebody’s mom