I checked into the hospital junk sick and spent four days there ... - William S. Burroughs, from The Yagé Letters, 1953.
... a few old relics from hop smoking times, spectral janitors, grey as ashes, phantom porters sweeping out dusty halls with a slow old man's hand, coughing and spitting in the junk-sick dawn ... - William S. Burroughs, from Naked Lunch, 1959.