Next Step and Magic Island - Day 10

I started my day in the waiting room at Waikiki Health, yet again. I’ve never been officially diagnosed as a hypochondriac but the idea has been suggested more than once. However when you’re determined to stay alive while also in the business of harming yourself you tend to get well acquainted with your doctors. It wouldn’t surprise me if Google suggests that I add this location as my work given the amount of time I spend here.

For the past two months I’ve averaged about two and half visits a week to this office. It’s an HMO of sorts, in addition to medical services they also offer mental health services among other things. Today I’m here to see my case manager about everything that’s happened in the last ten days.

The view as I walked down Ala Wait to Waikiki Health

I first met Diance about three weeks ago, at the request of my Psychologist, whom I started seeing at the request of my physician. I was reluctant to bring another person into the fray but I could use all the help I could get so I wasn’t in any position to argue. Her official title is Behavioral Health Coordinator which as far as I can tell is just a more professional way of saying she helps people get help.

Today is the first time that I’ve seen her sober. Every other time I had been so nervous that I would slam an hour before the appointment thinking that it would some how make things easier. It never did. Instead I would show up shaking furiously and dripping in sweat. My thoughts would be running a mile a second and any of offer of assistance was taken with suspicion.

My initial assessment was that she was an arrogant woman who who just going through the motions even though she regretted her career choice she still had to collect a paycheck. On more than one occasion we argued about menial detail at length. Our communication was made even more difficult by the fact that the application she was helping me fill out required some extremely personal information I wasn’t ready to just share with anyone. When did I start using drugs? How often was I using? Age of onset? Things I wasn’t even willing to discuss with myself much less some woman I just met.

My anxiety around it all was crippling. I honestly am not sure how I made it to the appointment. I could have just as easily not gone. I could quit going to Waikiki Health all together. If I never saw a doctor I’d never have to answer the questions that made me uncomfortable. Every time I considered cancelling an appointment there was a small voice that reminded me, “If you never answer those questions, you'll never find the cause and you’ll never be able to go back to the people you left behind.

So I kept showing up to my appointments and every time I was asked to make a follow up I did. They always asked me to make a follow up.

The original intention of today's visit was to fill out another application. There was another dual diagnosis program on the island and while I had already been accepted at Po’ailani the other place might be able to get me in sooner. Given my housing status sooner would be preferable, even if it goes against my previous plans.

That plan was promptly put on hold once I disclosed my living situation. There is a facility affiliated with Waikiki Health out in Kaka’ako, Next Step Shelter, almost right next to where the Chow Project is located. They only do intake between 1 pn and 230 pm. Being as I didn’t get to Diane until 1130 am that didn’t leave me much time to get across town before the window expired.

We briefly discussed what had happened in the past week and a half. The application was rescheduled for Wednesday. The only potential problem being my psychologist was leaving for vacation that day so in order to prevent any delays in processing I’d need for him to sign the records release form before he left. I rushed through the records consent form and was off on my way.  

Kaka’ako is actually one of my favorite parts of Honolulu, It’s gentrifying quicker than anywhere else so that probably won’t last for long. It’s currently a strange hodgepodge of run down industrial warehouses, mid rise commercial buildings and dotted with the occasional high rise building. It’s much like South Lake Union in the first years of its revival, before it lost its soul to the ever expanding ambitions of Amazon.com and Vulcan Real Estate.

Waiting for a bus in Kaka'ako

The shelter is located in a section of warehouse along Pier 1. From the entrance I could see a maze of half walls covering a large open area. The only things higher than four feet were the four exterior walls holding up the sheet metal roofing. The only people I saw were all outside smoking under a canvas tent, the kind you would see commonly at tailgating parties. I didn’t make it any further inside before I was approached by an intake specialist.

He positioned himself in such a way as to prevent me from moving any further into the building. He asked why I was there and politely informed me that he was in fact the person I was looking for but unfortunately there were no more openings available today. We still went through and filled out the necessary paperwork so they could have it on file when I returned.

I was encouraged to show up earlier in the day. The only vacancy they had available today went to a woman who showed up to start waiting at 930 am.. I informed him that tomorrow I plan to arrive before 8 am, in return he cautioned me that there isn’t an available spot everyday. It all depends on if someone else leaves.

When I left I considered finding a random hook up to pass the time. After the last year of my life I finally understand what Rivers Cuomo meant in the opening to Pinkerton. I still might find something before the days over. It’d be less destructive than other things that my mind is fixated upon.

For now though I’m sitting on a set of concrete steps that lead down to the Ala Wai canal. The Ala Wai marks the mountain side boundary of Waikiki. It smells like the sheets of a cheap hotel room the day after the USS Abraham leaves port, a pile of fermented grains left to cook in the sun, and an overturned semi-truck of mayonnaise sitting in the midday sun all got together and had a love child, Okay, it’s probably not quite that bad. It’s still not the kind of place you would usually choose to spend a beautiful, sunny afternoon,

I’ve grown tired and irritated with Waikiki Beach and the hordes of tourist all hoping to find paradise on this isolated mountain peak. The only locals you find are the ones working the cash registers or valet parking cars. If you want to see the real Honolulu you have to get outside the confines of this strange doppelganger of Robson Street where the struggles of working people are evident.

Makai view from Magic Island

Just thinking about it inspired me to leave my previous setting. I’m now sitting at a concrete picnic table on the far point of Magic Island.It isn’t so much an island as a peninsula and even though it’s just on the other side of where the Ala Wai meets the Pacific it’s a world away. There is still a tourist presence, so it’s not quite like Sandy’s Beach where you’re far more likely to see a shark attack than the skin of an untanned haole, but it’s more peaceful.

I first came to know Ala Moana at night. When I first arrived in Honolulu I would take the bus from Chinatown to Waikiki every evening in search of my next point. The term rig had become too widely known and it is far more common to refer to a loaded syringe as a point, An empty one is simply a clean.

Cleans are something I always had. Intravenous drug use is incredibly dangerous to begin with, reusing equipment makes it exponentially so. When I arrived in Hawaii I was shocked to find how commonplace it was to use the same needle multiple times. State law allows of the sale of syringes without a prescription but also allows for individual pharmacies to set their own policy regarding their sale. The majority of places I encountered refused to sell them and often did so in a way to degrade and dehumanize you for asking. It was no wonder people would rather accept the health risks than subject themselves to such ridicule,

I had made a promise to a nurse when I was in the hospital for MRSA never to reuse or share needles with anyone. It was one promise I was fanatical about keeping and I went further to never allow anyone in my presence to reuse either. The deeper I fell the more stubborn I became in holding on to certain morals and ethics. The drug could take almost everything I had, often times I’d hand it over willingly but some particular things I fought to maintain every chance I could.

The first few times I went to Walmart, who always will sell them, was a little nerve wracking but nothing compared to the way people are treated every day because of their HIV status or pure contempt offered by healthcare professionals to IVDUs when they find themselves in the ER.

Many times I wouldn’t even have to try to find my next fix, it was already looking for me. There were even times where I would even make a special trip just to drop off a bag of points and head back home. When I still had a home.

The heat of the mid afternoon sun on my chest reminds me that I’ve gotten off topic. This was supposed to be about Ala Moana,

Waikiki with Diamond Head from Magic Island

In an effort to better acquaint myself with Honolulu and being as the local transit system shut down almost entirely at midnight, I walked back home to Chinatown almost every night. It’s a strange thing to learn a city almost exclusively at night. Often times I’d go down a road during the day I’ve walked a dozen times at night and have no idea where I was. I’ll never forget the breakthrough I experienced upon discovering the 7-11 on Kapiolani and Atkinson was the same 7-11 on Atkinson and Kapiolani. It marked the first time I actually understood the web of road that made up “Town” and I ranted about it to anyone that would listen for a week

Ala Moana was the easiest way back home, it was also one of the longest routes. I could just stay close to the shore and eventually it would take me back to where I wanted to be.It was also comforting to always always have the ocean in sight, but not be walking on the sand.  

I never understood why so many flocked to Waikiki when just half a mile down the road was a beach with better sand, better views and fewer people. I guess it just goes to show the power of advertising and reputation. I’m not going to be the one to tell everyone though. I’ll just enjoy the offered privacy and smile.

I’ve been smiling a lot today. I don’t know why that is, I haven’t got a whole lot to smile about. If I had to guess given my situation I’d think I would be depressed, frustrated and downtrodden. To

find it’s quite the opposite is a welcome discovery.

I think a part of it is my new focus on writing and finally assembling the bulk of my previous work into a coherent collection. It’s been four months since I've worked and a distinct lack of purpose has hung heavy all around me since. One of the unhealthiest things for me is to be unemployed and I’m reaching a point where I’d never done it for so long. When I wake up in the morning now I know exactly what I’m supposed to do with my day, other than just wait until a space becomes available.

I’m not sure how much longer this optimism is going to last and while I’ve yet to try surfing I’m going to do my best to ride this wave for as long as I can.