Chapter Twenty Nine

Monica awoke to the sound of her name being called. At first she felt like she was at the end of a long tunnel just catching the end of an echo. Gradually the voice became louder, clearer, and she felt someone shaking her gently.

“Monica. Monica. Time to try and wake up. Doctor Huffman is here for an evaluation.” A nurse was in the room, had been the one speaking.

Monica’s eyes opened reluctantly. The light of the room pained her, and she shut them again. “What kind of evaluation? I feel like crap. Really bad crap. What else does he need to know?”

The nurse was not put off. “You need to sit up and let him ask you some questions. Then you need to try and eat something. It’s been almost nine hours. Come on, let’s try.”

Monica groaned as the nurse tried to help her sit up. Her muscles were sore, like she’d just had the workout of her life. She was also extremely irritable. “Stop pulling so hard! I’m achy here. I can do this myself.” She jerked her arms away from the nurse and attempted to sit at the edge of the bed.

Nausea hit her immediately, and although she had eaten nothing since the afternoon before, she dry heaved. The doctor stood and ticked off things on some list Monica couldn’t see.

“What are you supposed to be doing? Why aren’t you asking me questions so you can get out of here?” She was annoyed by his presence.

“Alright. I’ll ask my questions and let you get back to resting. I can see you’re suffering from nausea and muscle aches. And,” he added with a chuckle “irritation and agitation. Anything else I should be aware of for now?”

“Well, when I went to the bathroom this morning my legs about gave out. I was pretty shaky.” The thought came to Monica that she might never be alright again. “This won’t last forever will it? I mean, my habit hasn’t messed me up this bad forever, right? This will go away soon. It has to.” She looked quickly back and forth between the doctor and the nurse.

Monica had a bit of a wild look in her eyes, a scared look. The doctor and nurse exchanged glances, and the doctor mouthed ‘paranoia’ to the nurse, and checked another box.

“Now, don’t you worry, Monica. We’ve got some medicinal drugs to help counter the effects of the cocaine in your system. These next few days and weeks are not going to be easy. You’re going to be moody and achy a lot of the time. But if you trust us to help you, we can work together to make your system clean. Can we count on your cooperation?”

Monica nodded absently, and wondered when she could go back to sleep. It seemed to be the only cure for the pain and emotions she felt. But to sleep meant to dream, and she didn’t want to do that either.

The doctor wrapped up the brief meeting and headed off to do other work. The nurse remained, offering Monica a lunch tray. She understood if Monica didn’t want to eat, but reminded her that the shakiness would not go away without some nutrition. Then she left as well.

Monica sat still on the edge of her bed, unsure of what to do. She felt terrible physically. She was angry and wanted a hit badly. She looked over the lunch tray and picked at a fruit cup. The other food was left untouched.

She climbed back onto her bed, and sat with her back propped up with pillows against the wall. She folded her arms and let her head rest against them, propped on her knees. It had been less than twelve hours since her arrival and she already wanted to die. The doctor had said the upcoming weeks would be hard. Weeks?

She was going to feel like this for weeks? This was not ok. Something had to give. Either they would fix her immediately or she would leave to get a fix.

Three days. You promised three days.

“I never…” Monica started to argue with the Voice in her mind, but remembered her promise.

Monica gritted her teeth. “Alright!” She shouted to the air. “I’ll stay for three days. But I’m not promising any more than that. You’ll just have to get over it.”

Then she remembered Who the Voice belonged to, and she was suddenly afraid He would strike her dead. And although she had wanted that earlier, she thought about Sarah and wanted to live. She wanted, if she survived this ordeal, to find her and try to make things right. She had to.

A new voice made its way into her thoughts.

Like she wants anything to do with you now. After all you’ve done? Right. She probably wishes you were dead. Maybe she thinks you already are. You’ll never get better anyway. What’s the point?

Monica tried to shut out the voice, but it was persistent in making her discouraged, trying to convince her it was hopeless. Maybe it was. The thing she wanted most of all was a hit, even more than she wanted to make things right with Sarah.

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Tim was just returning home from a long run through the neighborhood to try and shake the mounting stress since dealing with Monica the night before. He had given his anger and frustration over to the Lord, and he felt somewhat better.

Still, there was a lot to work out before Monica was released. And though it was probably a good two weeks away at the least, he wanted to be ready. He had already called the Lepleys that morning to set up a strategy meeting for later that afternoon.

They were great people; real supports for those trying to overcome addictions. Time and again the Lepleys had opened not only their hearts, but their home to people in need.

Tim knew those recovering from addictions were not always easy people to be around, and knew without a doubt that God had given the Lepleys a special grace to minister to them.

As he thought about all the Lepleys had done in the past few years to help the ministry get off the ground, he poured himself a glass of water, and headed upstairs to shower.

He wanted plenty of time to spend in prayer, asking the Lord for wisdom and guidance. If there was one thing he had learned in the time he’d been leading Celebrate Recovery, it was that God knew exactly what every addict needed to recover. Tim planned to make sure he was led by the Spirit in his dealing with Monica. That was the only way to ensure he would actually be helpful.

And based on how his own detox had gone, Monica must have been starting to feel the effects about now. Surely she wasn’t sleeping well either, and that wouldn’t help. God would have to work on her behalf and heal her from the inside out. Hopefully she would cooperate.