My every two week injection for schizophrenia was this morning. My father called me at eight this morning to rouse me awake. I met him at his former pharmacy at nine. My nurse, Rebecca, is almost an ethereally beautiful creature. She has sandy blonde hair, irridescent like blue eyes, and milky white skin. Small talk is always easy with her as we talk about her very young daughter each visit. I just sit, listen, and smile. I got my injection in my derierre and headed back towards the pharmacy. Dad always sighs with relief when I walk through that front door with my next appointment card in hand. I have been known to just disappear during this event. My father knows not to piss me off around injection time. He handles me with kid's gloves.
I keep thinking about that old saying that if you wanted something bad enough then you will find a way to get it. It keeps reminding me of Kevin "The Homeless Guy" Barbieux and his laptops. He always finds a way to get a computer despite varying degrees of homelessness, and if he wanted a home then he could use that same tenacity to get a home as well. No homeless person in America has received more help to get off the streets than he, yet he still remains chronically homeless.