Novissime diebus Judith
By
Noel Reichel
As Noel walked into his parents house he knew his mom was pissed. Really pissed. She had said as much when she left him the voice message. That was two days ago and Noel had not called her back.
“Hello” he said in a sing song voice trying to give the impression nothing was troubling him.“How dare you?”
“How dare I what?” he asked, although he knew what she meant.
“How dare you go to my Doctor and threaten him with losing his license. You have no right to do that.”
“That’s not an accurate statement.”
“You called Doctor Shukala and told him that if he continued giving me my medications you would have his license pulled.”
“I did not do that.” Noel learned how to argue and debate from his mother. She was a master. He knew that when being attacked in a debate to say as little as possible. That would leave the other person to ask the questions giving the impression they really did not know what was going on. It also left the other person to do most of the talking. This then leaves a greater chance of the other person saying something you can use against them later in the debate.
“That’s what Doctor Shukala says. And I believe him before I believe you.” She had left him now to do the talking. His strategy had not worked. But what could he expect; he was up against the Master.
“I did call, but at no point in the conversation was there any talk about his license. It was never brought up.”
“You did not have the balls enough to tell me.”
“You did not ask.”
“How am I supposed to know to ask? Do I have to ask everyone you talked to? ‘Hey Noel, did you talk to the State Farm today? Hey Noel, did you talk to Uncle Dennis today?’ You should have told me you were going to talk to him.
“When I talked to him you were still in the hospital. I could not tell you.”
Noel’s mom had been in the hospital countless times in the past for her addiction. Dr. Shukala would prescribe her Vicodin, Ambien, and Xanax. She did have real conditions that necessitate her using these drugs, but she could not handle these narcotics. She would take too many and run out too soon. Then it was on to alcohol. She would either get so bad that her husband would have to call an ambulance or she would attempt suicide. The time in the hospital that Noel was referring to she had gone days without eating in a prescription induced stupor. She arrived at the hospital looking not like an addict but more like a prisoner of a concentration camp. An awful place of torture and malnutrition of her own addiction that imprisoned her. All she had to do was put in the effort to walk out of her personal Auschwitz, but she could never do it. It was three days before she was able to communicate.
“Then you should have told me you called him.”
“Why do you think I called?” Noel’s mom had also taught him to ask questions when the time was right. Ask questions and don’t stop. Control the conversation. Lead the opponent to where YOU wanted them to go.
“Because you are trying to control my life. You should have never looked at my hospital paperwork on the table. It is none of your business.” The hospital paperwork in question showed that she had been in the hospital, again, for severe intoxication. Noel had run across it while getting his mail. He had brought it up to her and she did not believe him that she had been in the hospital, that is how drunk she was. She did not seem upset at him looking at it then, but now that she was mad at him she would throw whatever she could at him.
“I was looking for my mail. It was in the pile.”
“As soon as you saw my name on it you should of put it down. You should not have read any further. It is none of your business!” Noel knew that this was foolish. If the roles were reversed she would have read the paperwork. Anyone would have. He did not think to bring this point up though. For the skill in debate that Noel did posses, he was not real good at thinking on his feet. He was like a chess player that had the opening moves memorized and had endgame strategy down pat, but was not a good enough player to think for himself in the middle of the game.
“I called because I love you. I won’t sit by and let your abuse your prescriptions if I can stop it.”
“You are trying to control my life. I was going to tell Dr. Shukala that I did not want Vicodin anymore because Vicodin and I don’t mix well. But now he won’t give me Xanax either. So I have to drink. I can’t get my Xanax so I have to drink alcohol.”
“You don’t have to, you could go into a rehab.”
“I called Brighton and am supposed to go in there in January.” This surprised Noel. He has been telling her for years she needed to go in to a rehab and now she was finally going. It should not be so long a wait to get in though? Today was Halloween.
“Good, I am glad.”
“You are trying to control my life and I don’t want you in it anymore. I don’t want to see you again. I want you to change your address so your mail does not come here anymore.” Noel was trying to control one aspect of her life and that was her ability to get narcotics. Noel wondered in the back of his mind if what he had done was the right thing to do. He was studying addiction and knew it was logically, but he was like everyone who loved an addict and second guesses themselves when they step in to give consequences for the actions of the addict.
Judith told Noel on more than one occasion that he was the only reason she was living. She often said she wanted to die. She felt she could not count on anyone anymore but Noel. “You are the only that is always there for me.” she would tell him. Now how would she cope?
“What are you going to do with my mail?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t throw my mail away, that’s illegal.”
"I guess we’ll put it in a big envelope and send it to you. Just change your address and we won’t have to worry about it.” Even though Noel moved out eight years ago he had never formally changed his address.
“I love you.”
No reply.
“You know, sometime in the hopefully distant future, you are going to look down on me from Heaven and think ‘Boy, Noel really did do the right thing to try and help me.’”
“When I lost your sister I cried and cried. I don’t even need to cry over you.”
With that Noel gathered his mail. On his way out he bent down to kiss his mother on the head and she lay on the couch.
“I love you. I will see you later.”
“I doubt it.”
“Mom, I am sure we will see each other again at some point.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Goodbye mom, I will see you again.”
Believing that she had lost everyone in the world she could count on, two days later Judith overdosed on alcohol and prescription drugs and died.
FIN
