The dinner-table discussion tonight was about drug addicts. It started off because they were talking about some of Jason's friends. 'There's this one girl,' says Dad, 'she's always off her face. She's blonde and when you see her down the street she's off her face. You can see it in her eyes, and it's not just marijuana, and she's always off her face.'
I'm not exaggerating. He talks that way because of all the pills he's on. He'll lose the thread of a conversation, forget if he's already said something, or just not understand what people are trying to tell him.
Next he started talking about the methodone patients he sees at the doctor's while he's waiting. Dad has weekly appointments to make sure his perscriptions are all full, he has something like seven or eight different ones, and to make sure he doesn't have any of the nastier side-effects. I don't think the doctor really pays attention to what's going on, because Mum's been addicted his Valium for a coupla years now.
Apparently the methodone patients are all shaking and nervous when they come in. They're so eager to go in and get thier treatment that they'd knock over anyone in thier way. They come out all calm smiles. I've heard this story countless times, and I'm not sure if Dad forgets he's told it already, or he just thinks it's a clever story.