This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/society/2015/apr/01/heroin-overdose-never-leaves-just-one-casualty-i-should-know
The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
| Version 0 | Version 1 |
|---|---|
| A heroin overdose never leaves just one casualty – I should know | A heroin overdose never leaves just one casualty – I should know |
| (35 minutes later) | |
| Everything was so still that morning. I rose from the sad little mattress I’d been sleeping on in a back room that still smelled slightly of dog piss and went into the adjoining bathroom. Someone had been in and out of there all night, throwing up, irritating me. I looked out through the door to the tiny living room and saw someone passed out on his back, blocking the front door. My best friend’s brother, Will, recently back from alcohol rehab, was snoring in a dirty brown recliner. | Everything was so still that morning. I rose from the sad little mattress I’d been sleeping on in a back room that still smelled slightly of dog piss and went into the adjoining bathroom. Someone had been in and out of there all night, throwing up, irritating me. I looked out through the door to the tiny living room and saw someone passed out on his back, blocking the front door. My best friend’s brother, Will, recently back from alcohol rehab, was snoring in a dirty brown recliner. |
| “I’m too old for this shit,” I thought over and over as I crept around the apartment, trying not to wake them up. I was an adult, between master’s degrees, yet here I was microwaving a 50-cent burrito for breakfast in a filthy kitchen that reeked of garbage. | |
| I hauled my suitcase from the stranger’s sleeping feet, moving it an inch every time Will snored, being as quiet as I could. It was 8am, but some crappy late-night movie was still playing on TV, illuminating the body in a strange blue light. I left through the upstairs door, out into the sweaty DC summer. | I hauled my suitcase from the stranger’s sleeping feet, moving it an inch every time Will snored, being as quiet as I could. It was 8am, but some crappy late-night movie was still playing on TV, illuminating the body in a strange blue light. I left through the upstairs door, out into the sweaty DC summer. |
| Eight hours later, I would call my friend Geoff, who had been sleeping upstairs and was unaware Will and James were even in the apartment. A DC homicide detective answered. “The individual you witnessed lying on the floor was, unfortunately, deceased,” he said, adding that I needed to come back immediately. | Eight hours later, I would call my friend Geoff, who had been sleeping upstairs and was unaware Will and James were even in the apartment. A DC homicide detective answered. “The individual you witnessed lying on the floor was, unfortunately, deceased,” he said, adding that I needed to come back immediately. |
| As a result, I spent the long drive back believing Will had murdered someone; it would be another hour before I found out that person was actually my friend James, who had come and floated with us at the million-dollar homes I house-sat last summer. James, the big friendly guy I’ve always liked. | As a result, I spent the long drive back believing Will had murdered someone; it would be another hour before I found out that person was actually my friend James, who had come and floated with us at the million-dollar homes I house-sat last summer. James, the big friendly guy I’ve always liked. |
| It was him I’d heard in my bathroom all night. I’d seen the lights go on outside my room around 5.30am, about a half-hour before police said he died. I’d walked around him all morning, not realizing that the morning stillness felt so unnatural because there wasn’t enough breath in that room. | It was him I’d heard in my bathroom all night. I’d seen the lights go on outside my room around 5.30am, about a half-hour before police said he died. I’d walked around him all morning, not realizing that the morning stillness felt so unnatural because there wasn’t enough breath in that room. |
| James had overdosed on heroin, in a country where overdose deaths are on the rise and show no signs of abating. For every person who OD’s and dies, there is a person who stumbles upon the body – the image imprinted forever in their brain, the nightmares and the guilt and the “what-ifs” always there. | James had overdosed on heroin, in a country where overdose deaths are on the rise and show no signs of abating. For every person who OD’s and dies, there is a person who stumbles upon the body – the image imprinted forever in their brain, the nightmares and the guilt and the “what-ifs” always there. |
| ••• | ••• |
| The US is in the midst of a heroin epidemic. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention released data in January, showing a 39% increase in heroin overdose deaths since 2012. To put this into perspective, cocaine-related deaths increased by 12% and drug poisoning deaths in general increased by only 6% in the same period. | The US is in the midst of a heroin epidemic. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention released data in January, showing a 39% increase in heroin overdose deaths since 2012. To put this into perspective, cocaine-related deaths increased by 12% and drug poisoning deaths in general increased by only 6% in the same period. |
| Along with increasing rates of use, some argue the heroin epidemic is receiving a lot of attention because the face of the user has changed. The crack epidemic of the late 1980s and early 1990s had a very different face, with black males most often demonized as both dealer and user coupled with endless coverage devoted to “crack babies”. But a study published in the medical journal JAMA Psychiatry in July 2014 found that 90% of people who began using heroin in the last decade were white. Most were in their 20s and lived outside of large urban areas. My friend James fit this statistic: white, 25 and upper middle class, from a wealthy DC community. | Along with increasing rates of use, some argue the heroin epidemic is receiving a lot of attention because the face of the user has changed. The crack epidemic of the late 1980s and early 1990s had a very different face, with black males most often demonized as both dealer and user coupled with endless coverage devoted to “crack babies”. But a study published in the medical journal JAMA Psychiatry in July 2014 found that 90% of people who began using heroin in the last decade were white. Most were in their 20s and lived outside of large urban areas. My friend James fit this statistic: white, 25 and upper middle class, from a wealthy DC community. |
| This month, I joined the Heroin Support Facebook group. There are 33,000 members, nearly all from the US. Members seem overwhelmingly to come from Rust Belt states and the south: Ohio, Michigan, Kentucky, Florida. The wall is a sea of loss and devastation, of broken people pleading for help, for forgiveness, for death to come quietly. | This month, I joined the Heroin Support Facebook group. There are 33,000 members, nearly all from the US. Members seem overwhelmingly to come from Rust Belt states and the south: Ohio, Michigan, Kentucky, Florida. The wall is a sea of loss and devastation, of broken people pleading for help, for forgiveness, for death to come quietly. |
| Today, Lauren from Cincinnati shared: “Just got kicked out of my boyfriends house for stealing I’m such a peace of shyt... now I’m cold no were to go an I hate my self who I am now I wish this drug would take me out already...” Jeremiah of Pittsburgh wrote: “So here goes day one... all over again… I know I’m not alone. But I feel alone. I need prayers guys I’m not giving in. Please please please God.” | Today, Lauren from Cincinnati shared: “Just got kicked out of my boyfriends house for stealing I’m such a peace of shyt... now I’m cold no were to go an I hate my self who I am now I wish this drug would take me out already...” Jeremiah of Pittsburgh wrote: “So here goes day one... all over again… I know I’m not alone. But I feel alone. I need prayers guys I’m not giving in. Please please please God.” |
| They post poems, photos of drug-free tests, montages of lost loved ones. They want their children back, they want to live, they want to die. | They post poems, photos of drug-free tests, montages of lost loved ones. They want their children back, they want to live, they want to die. |
| ••• | ••• |
| Will woke around 3pm the day James died. The night before, they had eaten my instant macaroni and cheese, turned the TV on, and got out the heroin. | Will woke around 3pm the day James died. The night before, they had eaten my instant macaroni and cheese, turned the TV on, and got out the heroin. |
| “We were basically just shooting dope all night,” Will told me. | “We were basically just shooting dope all night,” Will told me. |
| When Will woke up the next morning, he assumed his best friend, with whom he had grown up, was passed out. He went to the bathroom, then went to rouse him. When he didn’t move, Will started screaming, “Wake up!” James was cold and stiff to the touch, but Will wrenched his head over so he could attempt CPR. “All this shit came out of his mouth,” Will later told me. | When Will woke up the next morning, he assumed his best friend, with whom he had grown up, was passed out. He went to the bathroom, then went to rouse him. When he didn’t move, Will started screaming, “Wake up!” James was cold and stiff to the touch, but Will wrenched his head over so he could attempt CPR. “All this shit came out of his mouth,” Will later told me. |
| Will called 911 and paramedics arrived within minutes. “Do something!!” Will kept screaming, even though it was clear to everyone that nothing could be done. They attached a defibrillator anyway but by then, James had been dead for at least nine hours. Police arrived and began to question Will. “You think I killed my best friend?!” he screamed, sobbing. | Will called 911 and paramedics arrived within minutes. “Do something!!” Will kept screaming, even though it was clear to everyone that nothing could be done. They attached a defibrillator anyway but by then, James had been dead for at least nine hours. Police arrived and began to question Will. “You think I killed my best friend?!” he screamed, sobbing. |
| The weeks and months following James’s death were a struggle. “I didn’t sleep. I was depressed. I felt completely responsible, 100% responsible. It really fucked me up. And I already had issues before that,” Will told me later. | The weeks and months following James’s death were a struggle. “I didn’t sleep. I was depressed. I felt completely responsible, 100% responsible. It really fucked me up. And I already had issues before that,” Will told me later. |
| We stuck together in the weeks after James died. We watched the World Cup final, ate all the food in his parents’ house, and walked James’s dog at night in the rain. Then Will left for Hawaii. | We stuck together in the weeks after James died. We watched the World Cup final, ate all the food in his parents’ house, and walked James’s dog at night in the rain. Then Will left for Hawaii. |
| Within a week, Will was hospitalized after being hit by a car, arrested on unrelated charges, and robbed at the homeless shelter he wound up in after his girlfriend kicked him out. I spent the rest of the summer muddling through three-hour phone calls with him as he wandered around Honolulu, devising ways to get him off the island. And then in August, he just disappeared. | Within a week, Will was hospitalized after being hit by a car, arrested on unrelated charges, and robbed at the homeless shelter he wound up in after his girlfriend kicked him out. I spent the rest of the summer muddling through three-hour phone calls with him as he wandered around Honolulu, devising ways to get him off the island. And then in August, he just disappeared. |
| ••• | ••• |
| Ruben Castaneda is a former Washington Post reporter who covered the crack epidemic at a time when he himself was addicted to the drug. He recently wrote a memoir, “S Street Rising: Crack, Murder, and Redemption in DC”. | Ruben Castaneda is a former Washington Post reporter who covered the crack epidemic at a time when he himself was addicted to the drug. He recently wrote a memoir, “S Street Rising: Crack, Murder, and Redemption in DC”. |
| “From the mid 1980s through the mid-to-late 1990s there were dozens of open air drug markets in the eastern half of the city,” Castaneda told me. For a five-year period from 1989-1994, DC had more than 400 killings a year, peaking at 482 in 1991. In 2012, there were 88. | “From the mid 1980s through the mid-to-late 1990s there were dozens of open air drug markets in the eastern half of the city,” Castaneda told me. For a five-year period from 1989-1994, DC had more than 400 killings a year, peaking at 482 in 1991. In 2012, there were 88. |
| “It’s really an entirely different city from what it was like at that time,” Castaneda said. | “It’s really an entirely different city from what it was like at that time,” Castaneda said. |
| Castaneda believes the crack epidemic faded out for several reasons. One is good police work, which saw police team up with the FBI to take out entire drug crews. Another, he says, is gentrification, which resulted in the destruction or transformation of violent neighborhoods. The last is Castaneda’s theory that the epidemic simply burned itself out. | Castaneda believes the crack epidemic faded out for several reasons. One is good police work, which saw police team up with the FBI to take out entire drug crews. Another, he says, is gentrification, which resulted in the destruction or transformation of violent neighborhoods. The last is Castaneda’s theory that the epidemic simply burned itself out. |
| “A hardcore crack user will die or end up incarcerated or stop … I don’t believe that people can use crack for very long. I think the universe of crack users was limited both in terms of number and duration.” | “A hardcore crack user will die or end up incarcerated or stop … I don’t believe that people can use crack for very long. I think the universe of crack users was limited both in terms of number and duration.” |
| Now the city is facing another drug crisis, and must adapt its approach to battling the drug trade. | Now the city is facing another drug crisis, and must adapt its approach to battling the drug trade. |
| In 2014, the DC chief of police, Cathy Lanier, spoke about the need to adopt a different model for drug operations. According to Lanier, “The open air, violent crack cocaine markets have been replaced with drug deals arranged via social media, Craigslist and text messaging.” As a result, the police department is rolling out a new strategy that “will look significantly different than what we have today”. | In 2014, the DC chief of police, Cathy Lanier, spoke about the need to adopt a different model for drug operations. According to Lanier, “The open air, violent crack cocaine markets have been replaced with drug deals arranged via social media, Craigslist and text messaging.” As a result, the police department is rolling out a new strategy that “will look significantly different than what we have today”. |
| The majority of the people I spoke with for this article said they had first become addicted to prescription painkillers, then sought out heroin when their prescription dried up. Heroin is typically sold by 10ths of a gram (“balloons”), or in “buns”, which contain 10 bags. In DC, the price is about $20 for a 10th of a gram – cheaper than oxycontin, which can reach $40 per pill. | The majority of the people I spoke with for this article said they had first become addicted to prescription painkillers, then sought out heroin when their prescription dried up. Heroin is typically sold by 10ths of a gram (“balloons”), or in “buns”, which contain 10 bags. In DC, the price is about $20 for a 10th of a gram – cheaper than oxycontin, which can reach $40 per pill. |
| I knew my friends Will and James abused prescription medications – I just didn’t know they’d moved on to heroin. I found out later that Will had been using for a little under two years, while James had only recently began to use heroin after a friend introduced him to it. Before that, he had been overnighting painkillers from Miami. The heroin they used that night came from Baltimore, known among users as a place to get the best dope. | I knew my friends Will and James abused prescription medications – I just didn’t know they’d moved on to heroin. I found out later that Will had been using for a little under two years, while James had only recently began to use heroin after a friend introduced him to it. Before that, he had been overnighting painkillers from Miami. The heroin they used that night came from Baltimore, known among users as a place to get the best dope. |
| ••• | ••• |
| Geoff and I would spend the rest of the summer together, with me camping out on an inflatable mattress in the front room of his new apartment. We felt empty. We drank a lot. We’d make ramen, sit on his hard Walmart couch and watch The Leftovers. At the end of August, when I moved and found myself in a lonely new city, away from everything I took comfort in, I got an email from Geoff: “Things are meh. I’m bored, depressed, anxious, sleepless, lonely … the list goes on and on. I’m not really sure what’s the matter with me. I should theoretically be getting better, but I seem to only be getting worse.” | Geoff and I would spend the rest of the summer together, with me camping out on an inflatable mattress in the front room of his new apartment. We felt empty. We drank a lot. We’d make ramen, sit on his hard Walmart couch and watch The Leftovers. At the end of August, when I moved and found myself in a lonely new city, away from everything I took comfort in, I got an email from Geoff: “Things are meh. I’m bored, depressed, anxious, sleepless, lonely … the list goes on and on. I’m not really sure what’s the matter with me. I should theoretically be getting better, but I seem to only be getting worse.” |
| In January, Geoff had a dream that James was being burned alive by Isis, as Geoff, myself, and Will watched helplessly. The next day at work, Geoff had the worst panic attack he had ever had. | In January, Geoff had a dream that James was being burned alive by Isis, as Geoff, myself, and Will watched helplessly. The next day at work, Geoff had the worst panic attack he had ever had. |
| “I told my therapist [a month after James’s death], ‘I don’t think I’ve dealt with this and I’m afraid there’s going to be a big mental breakdown at some point. She said, ‘Good, when it happens just let it happen.’ So I’m hoping that that’s what that was.” | “I told my therapist [a month after James’s death], ‘I don’t think I’ve dealt with this and I’m afraid there’s going to be a big mental breakdown at some point. She said, ‘Good, when it happens just let it happen.’ So I’m hoping that that’s what that was.” |
| “I felt like I never dealt with the death enough,” Geoff told me. “I never cried. At first I was more like a zombie, I guess. I don’t remember having a specific breakdown at all until like two weeks ago.” | “I felt like I never dealt with the death enough,” Geoff told me. “I never cried. At first I was more like a zombie, I guess. I don’t remember having a specific breakdown at all until like two weeks ago.” |
| People tend to experience post-traumatic stress after an “unusual, unexpected, frightening situation”, according Dr Margo Silberstein, a DC trauma therapist. Silberstein described some symptoms of post-traumatic stress, which I mentally checked off one-by-one. A “cataclysm of emotion”. Avoidance. Difficulty sleeping. Self-soothing, like eating or drinking too much, or drugs. Feelings of guilt. | People tend to experience post-traumatic stress after an “unusual, unexpected, frightening situation”, according Dr Margo Silberstein, a DC trauma therapist. Silberstein described some symptoms of post-traumatic stress, which I mentally checked off one-by-one. A “cataclysm of emotion”. Avoidance. Difficulty sleeping. Self-soothing, like eating or drinking too much, or drugs. Feelings of guilt. |
| I knew all these things applied to me. In the months following James’s death, I entered a period of purposeful self-destruction. I knew the choices I was making were bad but the worse they were, the more I wanted to make them. I wasn’t myself. I did some stuff (most related to men, drugs and alcohol) that’s hard to come back from and hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t there. Most friends stuck by me until I came out of it, but I lost some people too. | I knew all these things applied to me. In the months following James’s death, I entered a period of purposeful self-destruction. I knew the choices I was making were bad but the worse they were, the more I wanted to make them. I wasn’t myself. I did some stuff (most related to men, drugs and alcohol) that’s hard to come back from and hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t there. Most friends stuck by me until I came out of it, but I lost some people too. |
| Silberstein explained that after a traumatic event, the brain functions differently, in a more primitive state. Survival mode kicks in and the logical part of the brain is shut out. Hearing that I hadn’t really been able to control my brain during that time helped. | Silberstein explained that after a traumatic event, the brain functions differently, in a more primitive state. Survival mode kicks in and the logical part of the brain is shut out. Hearing that I hadn’t really been able to control my brain during that time helped. |
| By July, my thoughts had morphed from shock and emptiness to anger. In my journal I wrote: “I still just feel angry or utterly apathetic. I guess this is a bit what a breakdown looks like. I don’t know how or if I’ll come out of it. Life is garbage, everyone lets you down, and some of us will never be happy or whole.” On 26 July, I wrote, “Today I thought about just how much better the world would be if I had died instead of James.” | By July, my thoughts had morphed from shock and emptiness to anger. In my journal I wrote: “I still just feel angry or utterly apathetic. I guess this is a bit what a breakdown looks like. I don’t know how or if I’ll come out of it. Life is garbage, everyone lets you down, and some of us will never be happy or whole.” On 26 July, I wrote, “Today I thought about just how much better the world would be if I had died instead of James.” |
| Silberstein spoke of survivor’s guilt, the “If I had just …” thoughts trauma victims often have. I remember a female DC police officer casually telling Will and I, as we sat on the stoop with James still inside, not to blame ourselves. When I spoke with former addict Josh, who lives about a half-hour from Boston, he told me he’s been diagnosed with survivor’s guilt. He and his girlfriend both overdosed on heroin last November, only she didn’t wake up. Josh gave her CPR for 15 minutes, until paramedics arrived, but didn’t realize until the next day that she’d been dead all along. | Silberstein spoke of survivor’s guilt, the “If I had just …” thoughts trauma victims often have. I remember a female DC police officer casually telling Will and I, as we sat on the stoop with James still inside, not to blame ourselves. When I spoke with former addict Josh, who lives about a half-hour from Boston, he told me he’s been diagnosed with survivor’s guilt. He and his girlfriend both overdosed on heroin last November, only she didn’t wake up. Josh gave her CPR for 15 minutes, until paramedics arrived, but didn’t realize until the next day that she’d been dead all along. |
| “I feel like she was such a better person than me,” he told me on the phone in a heavy Boston accent. Josh avoids anything that reminds him of her, like the TV series The Walking Dead. The day she died, they got high because the TV show was returning and they usually got high to watch it. She’d been 10 months sober. | “I feel like she was such a better person than me,” he told me on the phone in a heavy Boston accent. Josh avoids anything that reminds him of her, like the TV series The Walking Dead. The day she died, they got high because the TV show was returning and they usually got high to watch it. She’d been 10 months sober. |
| ••• | ••• |
| Not everyone who witnesses an overdose or discovers a friend’s body experiences trauma. I spoke on the phone to Mike, living in a halfway house in northern Kentucky. Mike had responded to one of my posts in the Heroin Support Facebook group and was now shivering outside in the February cold due to halfway house rules. When I asked him to tell me about his experience with overdoses, he laughed and said “Which one?” | Not everyone who witnesses an overdose or discovers a friend’s body experiences trauma. I spoke on the phone to Mike, living in a halfway house in northern Kentucky. Mike had responded to one of my posts in the Heroin Support Facebook group and was now shivering outside in the February cold due to halfway house rules. When I asked him to tell me about his experience with overdoses, he laughed and said “Which one?” |
| Mike got hooked on heroin after Kentucky clinics stopped doling out painkillers, which he needed to manage chronic back pain from a bad car crash. He’s 15 months clean, but finds it increasingly difficult to find people who aren’t users. “It’s everywhere,” Mike said. | Mike got hooked on heroin after Kentucky clinics stopped doling out painkillers, which he needed to manage chronic back pain from a bad car crash. He’s 15 months clean, but finds it increasingly difficult to find people who aren’t users. “It’s everywhere,” Mike said. |
| Mike has witnessed four overdoses. The last one was fatal. His friend went into the bathroom to do her makeup and stayed there for a long time. Mike checked in on her a few times and she was fine, but then he stopped getting a response. He picked a lock and found her lying on the floor, breathing. “Her mom was like, she does this all the time, keep her head propped up,” so Mike checked on her every half-hour to make sure she was still breathing. He ended up dozing off around midnight and when he awoke and checked on her at 3am, she was dead. | Mike has witnessed four overdoses. The last one was fatal. His friend went into the bathroom to do her makeup and stayed there for a long time. Mike checked in on her a few times and she was fine, but then he stopped getting a response. He picked a lock and found her lying on the floor, breathing. “Her mom was like, she does this all the time, keep her head propped up,” so Mike checked on her every half-hour to make sure she was still breathing. He ended up dozing off around midnight and when he awoke and checked on her at 3am, she was dead. |
| While Mike said it does bother him and he wishes he had done something different, he doesn’t seem traumatized. He doesn’t have nightmares or flashbacks and has never seen a therapist about it. “It’s kinda something you can either deal with or you can’t, and I guess I can live with it,” Mike said. | While Mike said it does bother him and he wishes he had done something different, he doesn’t seem traumatized. He doesn’t have nightmares or flashbacks and has never seen a therapist about it. “It’s kinda something you can either deal with or you can’t, and I guess I can live with it,” Mike said. |
| Silberstein says that most people will go back to a normal way of functioning after a trauma, but about 15% will remain disturbed and need help. Another 15% actually experience growth; these are the people who have successfully reorganized after the event and may discover a new way of looking at life. | Silberstein says that most people will go back to a normal way of functioning after a trauma, but about 15% will remain disturbed and need help. Another 15% actually experience growth; these are the people who have successfully reorganized after the event and may discover a new way of looking at life. |
| I found Will again this March, nine months after I drove away crying the night before he left for Hawaii. We sat on the floor of a Metro station in DC at midnight and tried to piece together what happened this summer. | I found Will again this March, nine months after I drove away crying the night before he left for Hawaii. We sat on the floor of a Metro station in DC at midnight and tried to piece together what happened this summer. |
| Things were a mess for long time but now, Will says, “I’m starting to feel a little less guilty and responsible. I have remorse, of course, every day, and I think about it every day, but it’s not fucking with my head as much.” | Things were a mess for long time but now, Will says, “I’m starting to feel a little less guilty and responsible. I have remorse, of course, every day, and I think about it every day, but it’s not fucking with my head as much.” |
| “The only one who really could have changed what happened was James … That’s the only thing that’s going to get us through this. If we blame ourselves for James’s drug problem and his addiction, we’re going to have a hard life. Fuck, I hate to say it, but it was his problem.” | “The only one who really could have changed what happened was James … That’s the only thing that’s going to get us through this. If we blame ourselves for James’s drug problem and his addiction, we’re going to have a hard life. Fuck, I hate to say it, but it was his problem.” |
| ••• | ••• |
| On the day James died, we sat on that stoop for over an hour, while James’s body lay a few feet away in the same place he’d been when I left the house nearly 12 hours before. I’d gone downstairs to gather my things, my mind a complete blur, and realized I was alone in the silence again with James. This time his shirt was up around his chest, his stomach covered in defibrillator pads. He was ghostly pale and flies had started to land on him. I didn’t look at his face – thank God I didn’t look at his face. | On the day James died, we sat on that stoop for over an hour, while James’s body lay a few feet away in the same place he’d been when I left the house nearly 12 hours before. I’d gone downstairs to gather my things, my mind a complete blur, and realized I was alone in the silence again with James. This time his shirt was up around his chest, his stomach covered in defibrillator pads. He was ghostly pale and flies had started to land on him. I didn’t look at his face – thank God I didn’t look at his face. |
| Later, as we sat outside, we would hear the whole street erupt in deafening cheers every few minutes. The US was playing Portugal in a World Cup match, and DC truly got into the spirit of the tournament that summer. Inside, we heard the cops cheering as they stood over James’s body, a radio tuned to the game. A woman walked past and told us, as we sat unresponsively, that coffee was the best way to cover the odor from a dead body. We ignored everyone who asked what was happening. | Later, as we sat outside, we would hear the whole street erupt in deafening cheers every few minutes. The US was playing Portugal in a World Cup match, and DC truly got into the spirit of the tournament that summer. Inside, we heard the cops cheering as they stood over James’s body, a radio tuned to the game. A woman walked past and told us, as we sat unresponsively, that coffee was the best way to cover the odor from a dead body. We ignored everyone who asked what was happening. |
| The medics finally arrived, and we heard a zipping sound from the doorway. Two men came out carrying James inside a body bag. Will broke down completely, a guttural, unnatural sound that will stay with me forever. They loaded the body on to the gurney and slid it inside the van. The next time we would see James would be two weeks later, a rough approximation of himself, looking like a garish china doll in his casket. He would have laughed his ass off. | The medics finally arrived, and we heard a zipping sound from the doorway. Two men came out carrying James inside a body bag. Will broke down completely, a guttural, unnatural sound that will stay with me forever. They loaded the body on to the gurney and slid it inside the van. The next time we would see James would be two weeks later, a rough approximation of himself, looking like a garish china doll in his casket. He would have laughed his ass off. |
| Now, I prefer to remember the day of James’s funeral, when it was over and Geoff and I were driving to Will’s house in Virginia. The sun was beaming, windows all open in my old beater of a car with no A/C. We were still in our funeral clothes, but I’d taken my heels off and Geoff had loosened his tie. Out of the windows, all I could see was sunlight and sky and the impossible greenness of DC at the start of summer. Neil Young’s Long May You Run came on and as I sang along, at that moment, I felt almost at peace. | Now, I prefer to remember the day of James’s funeral, when it was over and Geoff and I were driving to Will’s house in Virginia. The sun was beaming, windows all open in my old beater of a car with no A/C. We were still in our funeral clothes, but I’d taken my heels off and Geoff had loosened his tie. Out of the windows, all I could see was sunlight and sky and the impossible greenness of DC at the start of summer. Neil Young’s Long May You Run came on and as I sang along, at that moment, I felt almost at peace. |
| Some names in this story have been changed | Some names in this story have been changed |