Like many people who get trapped into the downward spiral that narcotics use brings, I endured years and years of the effects of the feeling that no dose was ever quite enough. That feeling is what makes narcotics use so dangerous and so deadly. That need and want to always use just a little more to get just a little more relief from pain can be a real killer. It can and will suck the life right out of you. I've had many friends succumb to that need. I dabbled with narcotics in my youth, but my serious narcotic use started from prescribed drugs as an adult after having my first spinal surgery. That was at a time before there was a crackdown on prescribing narcotics. Initially, I started out with mild painkillers and worked my way into more heavy duty ones over time as my dependence on them grew as my condition worsened. Eventually, my primary care doctor referred me to a pain management specialist when she felt she could no longer treat me. At that point I was taking 2 time released Oxycontin daily and I was being prescribed 4 Percocet10's daily for any breakthrough pain. Believe it or not, I was not zonked! In fact, most people didn't even know I was taking painkillers. Let's just say I had a pretty high tolerance.
I was never able to get steroid injections in my back and neck because I'm highly sensitive to steroids. The one time I did have a steroid injection in my knee, my blood sugar spiked to over 600 and even with insulin injections (I'm diabetic) it wouldn't go down for over a week. Anyone who has battled high blood sugar knows that all over sick feeling one has with high blood sugar. Twice in my life I've stopped using narcotics cold turkey and twice in my life it was not a fun experience. I don't plan to do it a third time.
Written April 9, 2009
Truth? As far out on the edge as I’ve teetered, something has always kept me from stepping into the abyss. Truth? My pain and I have a very intimate relationship. It’s very complicated and the only lasting relationship I’ve ever had. It’s definitely a love-hate relationship full of angst and exploration leading me into places where I’m able to forget my pain temporarily. During those times, life has been wonderful and filled with adventures, but nonetheless those times were temporary.
Is there anyone out there who has ever gotten to the point of saying “I’m done”? Well, what do you do when you’re done? What do you do when you look back at the life you’ve lived and see that it’s taken you to a place of true complacency and indifference? Wow! That’s a place I never thought I’d be! Anger maybe. Rage was always a possibility. Bitterness was always aching to be number one on the hit parade, but what did I get? Complacency and indifference salted with a dash of disillusionment.
Without all the gory details, I recently made a decision that possibly could be the queen of all my self-destructive acts. I know some might think anyone making the decision to stop an addiction… any addiction is a wise decision. Perhaps it is! What would one say to someone who is addicted to prescribed narcotics and muscle relaxers and who has decided to stop taking those drugs against medical advice? Hmmmmmmm! Go for it? Good luck? You’re a damn fool? There’s no escaping the truth. When you’re done, you’re done.
Truth? Drugs have veiled many of my written words over the past several years. Okay, for some that may come as no big surprise, but for me it does. What surprises me is that after living through the horrors of drug abuse at a younger age, I allowed myself to take the easy way out as an adult and become something I hated. I would like nothing more than to be able to blame the doctors who prescribed the drugs to me, but I can’t do that. I won’t do that! They had a job to do and did it. What transpired was a perfectly legal act, although some might question the ethics or morals involved.
Was I some drug-seeking individual that goes from doctor to doctor hoping to score some decent drugs? Truth? No! My medical problems set me on the path of having the best drugs health insurance could legally buy. Unfortunately, the nature of the beast includes developing a tolerance to prescribed narcotics. What may work initially only becomes a way to take the edge off and feel somewhat normal…. whatever normal is I’ve forgotten.
After careful consideration, I decided to go cold turkey. Is that the politically correct term these days or is it only showing my age? I decided to do this withdrawal in stages thinking that it would be easier on me due to other health issues. Instead of weaning myself off my meds, I abruptly stopped taking my Oxycontin first and now, I’m in the throes of a nasty divorce from Percocet 10’s. The muscle relaxers were flushed sometime in the midst of all this madness. Has my last month been fun? Hell no, but what I do know is that withdrawal can be accomplished. All it takes is determination and insanity will take you the rest of the way.
Written 6/18/18
While I've been MIA (missing in action) lately, I've been working towards cleansing my system of all the gnarly narcotics that have held me prisoner [AGAIN] for the past 15 years. Since 2003, I've taken the whole spectrum of painkillers and have to admit nothing works very well these days. Why continue taking something that doesn't give me any relief? Why continue taking something that harms my already compromised liver? Because I've chosen to make what I think is an informed decision, I'm in the process of weaning myself off morphine because cold turkey is a real bitch. Trust me, I've been down that road a time or two and I definitely don't want to visit that rocky path ever again.
Over the last 15 years I've taken every NSAID known to man, plus Tramadol, Lortab, Percocet, Oxycontin, Methadone, Fentanyl and Morphine. You name it and I've taken it. I've used TENS units and even had 2 internal neurostimulators implants that are wired directly into my spine. I've had two separate anterior discectomies with fusions to fuse 4 of my 7 cervical discs. I have to admit not being able to look up or turn my head has been a little challenging at times. And as for the surgeries, they've done little to alleviate my pain. My last neurosurgeon told me that there was nothing else that he could do to help me. He basically told me that I'd have to grin and bear it.
I've also tried exercise, heated pool therapy, regular physical therapy, massages, chiropractic adjustments, heat and ice with no substantial or long term relief from anything I tried. The only things I haven't tried at this point are steroid injections that are injected directly into the site that's causing the pain and acupuncture. As ordered by my endocrinologist, I can't ever do the steroid injections because steroids make my blood sugar skyrocket. And acupuncture? To be honest, the thought of being a human pin cushion (even though they say no pain is involved) doesn’t exactly excite me, so I think this particular predicament is called being S.O.L. (shit out of luck)
Physically, I've gone from being Wonder Woman to being a lackluster cave-dwelling crone. Mentally, I've learned to suffer in silence. Isolation is a common tool used by many people with serious medical issues and by people who have simply given up and don't want to play the "happy" game any longer. It's easier to be isolated than it is to be around people. That overwhelming urge to put on a happy face has worn me out. It’s difficult to maintain that “everything is just peachy” act for very long and the older I get, the more that desire wanes. That's why I became a hermit. No, that's not entirely true. The combination of severe chronic pain and my lifelong inability to select a significant other who isn't a complete twisted freak-a-zoid asshole are the two major reasons for becoming a troglodyte. The wealthy call it being an eccentric recluse and the poor call it life after the fast lane. I call it how Mildred maintains some semblance of sanity.
Recently I decided to give medical marijuana a whirl. Both my primary care doctor and my pain management doctor gave me their blessing regarding my decision. Florida legalized marijuana for medicinal use in the 2016, but have always steered clear until now due to all the hoop jumping that's involved. Once I finally made the decision, I carefully followed all the necessary steps dotting all i's and crossing all t's. Unfortunately, I know what a clusterfuck anything pertaining to the government can be. Anything they handle on a local, state or federal level involves too much red tape that only slows the process of forward movement and expands the room for errors to be made every step of the way.
First, I made an appointment to see Dr. Feelgood. Next, I had my medical records from my pain management doctor and my primary care doctor faxed to Dr. Feelgood. This was done to substantiate a medical diagnosis that is on the list of qualifying diseases and conditions. Previous medical records also help Dr. Feelgood to write a personalized prescription/care plan. Next, I kept my appointment (BTW, Dr. Feelgood really knew her stuff.) Once a person sees the doc and her recommendation is submitted along with your Patient ID number, the mandatory application for a Medical Marijuana card from the state with a $75 required fee (everyone has to get their piece of the pot pie) can be submitted online or by snail mail. About 2 weeks later, I received an email me with my card number. Until I receive my actual card, the email with the card number enables me to make purchases. They say it takes about 4 to 6 weeks to receive the actual card. That's the speed of light for any government agency! I'll believe 4 to 6 weeks once I have my card in my hand is really 4 to 6 weeks.
There's two dispensaries where I live and both do home deliveries. I'll most likely use that service in the future, but I wanted to check out the dispensary in person for my first purchase. I like to see how things work and if they run smoothly. It gives me an overall picture of whether or not I'm dealing with a bunch of imbeciles. It helps keep my expectations in the realm of reality. I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised by the whole operation at Surterra Wellness right down to the ATM standing all shiny and new inside the dispensary. This feature made a lot of sense since the marijuana business is all cash and carry due to the current Federal laws and banking restrictions.They would have really impressed me if they had a blood plasma center on site so people could sell some blood to buy their weed. That's what I would have called one stop shopping!
The dispensary was a strange trip...nothing like copping a little weed back in the day from the friendly neighborhood pot dealer! Upon checking in for my first one stop shopping experience, I found out that my approved card number didn't show up in the Florida Stoners-R-Us database when the dispensary tried to access it. So I sat there and called the 800 number into the state registry. Ring! Ring! Ring! I first accessed their automated menu hoping I pushed all the right selections to talk to an actual human being. Of course, there were many callers ahead of me, but the automated recording assured me that the first available representative would help me and thanked me for waiting patiently. I wonder who I'd have to register a complaint with regarding the "on hold" music that played in my ear while I waited. I beg your pardon, but elevator music is not acceptable to listen to for more than 5 seconds and what stoner do you know who listens to that crap? Pink Floyd would have been easier on the ears!
Fast forward about 45 minutes later and the state informed me that I indeed had been approved and the number emailed to me was correct. Duh! I knew the number was correct. The state knew the number was correct. I wanted to know why the dispensary couldn't access my correct account number. That issue was never answered. "I don't know" didn't seem like an acceptable answer, but I wasn't going to push the issue because I didn't want my correct account number to permanently float around lost in cyberspace. What I did was accept some things are meant to remain a mystery. So now, I'm back at square one. The dispensary needed to be able to access my account via my top secret correct account number. If the dispensary couldn't access my account with the prescription from my pot doc, then I wouldn't be able to make a purchase. Period! Why would I ever expect anything to ever go smoothly from start to finish and not be riddled with all sorts of Murphy's laws? I don't know how, but somehow magically, my card number appeared in the database after my phone call to Florida's Stoners-R-Us registry. Go figure! It must have been a miracle!
Now fast forward to the present day: Pensacola now has 6 dispensaries in anticipation of Florida legalizing cannabis in the near future. I think they're trying to get it on the ballot in 2020. Hip! Hip! Hooray! Like the title of this blog post indicates, I wasn't expecting a miracle, but smoking marijuana has helped with my pain and it's kept me off narcotics. That's the important thing. You see, unlike with narcotics I'm not going to die from using cannabis. It is, however an ongoing process of educating myself regarding the various strains and what works best for me. For instance: Sativa strains are for daytime use and Indica strains are for nighttime use. Hybrids are potent blends for anytime use :). I won't bore all you non-users with a bunch of tips from Mildred, but please know Mildred is much better than she has been in a long, long time! And Martha has been like a ray of sunshine and a real blast from my past! Together we're just two radical old stoners looking for the ultimate munchies :)
*Repost from November 4, 2019
Update: (December 8, 2022) I'm still not taking any narcotics. Hooray for me! I still use medical marijuana for depression, anxiety, insomnia and pain. I have a few favorites strains I use specifically for pain. Dutch Treat, Grandaddy Purple, 9lb Hammer and Duct Tape have been excellent in helping alleviate my pain symptoms. Pensacola now has 11 dispensaries. The cannabis business seems to be booming!
Yesterday, I started tackling my sorely neglected yard. My yard man only cuts the grass. Everything else in the yard got put on the back burner until I could get to it. Saying that my flower beds were a mess is not an adequate description of the sorry state they were in when I started cleaning out the weeds yesterday that had over taken the beds. This time of year I always fight the same weed called Devil beggarticks. OMG! If you aren't familiar with this highly invasive weed, let me tell you that if you own dogs and have beggarticks are in your yard, your dogs will come inside the house coated with fine black needle-like seeds that cling to their fur. This time of year I always just about lose what little mind I have left pulling the damn stickers out of my dogs' fur every time they go outside. 
