Noah Jett Fitzaptrick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maybethatsalie) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-02-06 11:59 pm
maybethatsalie) wrote in muserevival2014-02-06 11:59 pm
Entry tags:
055.1. Muse prompt
"Recovery is something that you have to work on every single day and it's something that it doesn't get a day off." - Demi Lovato
Noah was finding it hard to believe he was actually out of hospital. He had been in there so long, it was starting to feel like he was stuck in there. His recovery had been a long process, though, with many bumps in the road and more hurdles thrown up in front of him that he had to try to throw himself over despite feeling like he was being dragged through the depths of hell. Not just that, though. He was finding it hard to believe he was out of hospital and had a home to go to.
He had been homeless for many months, and he was paying the price for all his mistakes. He couldn't have done all that shit to himself, and had even worse done to him, and not come out with consequences. But now here he was, tucked up in a large comfortable bed in a room that was his own. It had a TV and amazing heating. It had a bookcase with books Julie and Euan had gotten him as a gift for sticking through his fight to stay off the drugs without giving up. He had even been able to pick out his own linen and curtains through a website, and when they had brought him home from hospital the evening before, they were already in his room for him. It just still felt so surreal to him, like an alternate reality he was going to be sucked out of at any moment.
He was still stuck on bed rest, though. The swelling in his brain from the encephalitis had gone down but it wasn't entirely healed yet. The pneumonia had left him with asthma, which was weird. He knew kids back in school in his home town who had inhalers, but back then he had always been in top health. How the mighty had fallen and all that. His health had rapidly deteriorated towards the end there. Then he stupidly got mugged trying to escape back to the drug-soaked lonely homeless life, and it was by sheer miracle he was still alive. Sheer miracle, and the amazing kind-hearted people who helped him and vowed to take care of him when he stopped being able to take care of himself.
Now it was the aftermath of all that, and the first few steps on a very long road of recovery. Recovery he would never fully achieve because he was now HIV Positive. He was wrapped up in his new bed, propped up on a mound of pillows when he picked up a printed list that had been lying on the bed beside him. Just a short while ago after breakfast, Euan had sat with him and gone through all the medications he would now be on for life. There were so many, and it included Naltrexone to manage his drug dependence and curb the inevitable cravings somewhat. Not entirely, but enough to make it a manageable fight for him.
Of course, for obvious reasons, he didn't have the medication in his possession. With his vast history of addiction and even overdose, there was no way he had the right mind to cope with being in control of his own medication. He didn't want to be. He needed help with this, and he was thankful every single day that he had it. But Euan had gone through all of his new medications, including the new ones he would be starting that day. He showed Noah each of the pills, matched them to the print-out from the doctor he got on discharge, and told him when he would be given what. Told him the supply would be locked away in a safe and no matter how much he might come to feel he needed access to them, he wouldn't be able to get it.
He still had many appointments with the hospital ahead of him. He had a team of doctors, a new therapist, and a nurse to come to the house to administer injections to keep treating the encephalitis. He had a pile of pills to take four times a day. He was too weak to move around much, and should only be up and about to shower and use the bathroom, which turned out to be quite nice on his first day home when little Ciaran came in and ate breakfast in bed with him. It was like having a little brother, and Noah thought that was seriously cool.
He knew he had a huge fight still ahead of him, but at the same time, he wasn't dead yet and he was determined to keep it that way.
Noah Cameron :: Original Character
Noah was finding it hard to believe he was actually out of hospital. He had been in there so long, it was starting to feel like he was stuck in there. His recovery had been a long process, though, with many bumps in the road and more hurdles thrown up in front of him that he had to try to throw himself over despite feeling like he was being dragged through the depths of hell. Not just that, though. He was finding it hard to believe he was out of hospital and had a home to go to.
He had been homeless for many months, and he was paying the price for all his mistakes. He couldn't have done all that shit to himself, and had even worse done to him, and not come out with consequences. But now here he was, tucked up in a large comfortable bed in a room that was his own. It had a TV and amazing heating. It had a bookcase with books Julie and Euan had gotten him as a gift for sticking through his fight to stay off the drugs without giving up. He had even been able to pick out his own linen and curtains through a website, and when they had brought him home from hospital the evening before, they were already in his room for him. It just still felt so surreal to him, like an alternate reality he was going to be sucked out of at any moment.
He was still stuck on bed rest, though. The swelling in his brain from the encephalitis had gone down but it wasn't entirely healed yet. The pneumonia had left him with asthma, which was weird. He knew kids back in school in his home town who had inhalers, but back then he had always been in top health. How the mighty had fallen and all that. His health had rapidly deteriorated towards the end there. Then he stupidly got mugged trying to escape back to the drug-soaked lonely homeless life, and it was by sheer miracle he was still alive. Sheer miracle, and the amazing kind-hearted people who helped him and vowed to take care of him when he stopped being able to take care of himself.
Now it was the aftermath of all that, and the first few steps on a very long road of recovery. Recovery he would never fully achieve because he was now HIV Positive. He was wrapped up in his new bed, propped up on a mound of pillows when he picked up a printed list that had been lying on the bed beside him. Just a short while ago after breakfast, Euan had sat with him and gone through all the medications he would now be on for life. There were so many, and it included Naltrexone to manage his drug dependence and curb the inevitable cravings somewhat. Not entirely, but enough to make it a manageable fight for him.
Of course, for obvious reasons, he didn't have the medication in his possession. With his vast history of addiction and even overdose, there was no way he had the right mind to cope with being in control of his own medication. He didn't want to be. He needed help with this, and he was thankful every single day that he had it. But Euan had gone through all of his new medications, including the new ones he would be starting that day. He showed Noah each of the pills, matched them to the print-out from the doctor he got on discharge, and told him when he would be given what. Told him the supply would be locked away in a safe and no matter how much he might come to feel he needed access to them, he wouldn't be able to get it.
He still had many appointments with the hospital ahead of him. He had a team of doctors, a new therapist, and a nurse to come to the house to administer injections to keep treating the encephalitis. He had a pile of pills to take four times a day. He was too weak to move around much, and should only be up and about to shower and use the bathroom, which turned out to be quite nice on his first day home when little Ciaran came in and ate breakfast in bed with him. It was like having a little brother, and Noah thought that was seriously cool.
He knew he had a huge fight still ahead of him, but at the same time, he wasn't dead yet and he was determined to keep it that way.
Noah Cameron :: Original Character