Today I looked after a friendly crack head.
He was discovered in his hostel room, skin tinged blue, short of breath and brought in by paramedics.
I saw him shortly after his last hit, uttering incoherent rubbish. I initially had to walk away because of challenging behaviour.
Eventually he came down – surprisingly pleasantly – preoccupying himself with a scratch card and general banter with neighbouring patients.
Concerned he maybe overbearing to the other patients, I walked over when he raised his hand and said “Sorry for being a twat earlier, I wasn’t my self doc“.
Then he looked at me sincerely, poised for a fist bump, and I bumped his fist.