For years I have suffered with degenerative disc disorder and other back ailments. Modern medicine to the rescue. To be sure the pain killers on the market today can and do allow many individuals such as myself to carry on with normal lives albeit at the risk of...addiction.
Most of us know of the euphoria experienced when administered a powerful narcotic. Whatever pain you are under going is relieved and for a moment in time you feel “good.” Really good. Therein lies the problem, the pain goes away, plus, you feel better. Who doesn't want to feel better. I know I do. Onward and upward.
Through the years I kept to a regimen indicated by my physician(s). On occasion I would stray when the pain was above it's normal level. Simply, just add more to get the desired effect. Simply, just add more to get the desired effect. Simply, just add more to get the desired effect. Simply, just add more to get the desired effect. And more and more and more, until....
When what is prescribed is not even enough. There is of course, more available and it involves another world entirely. Getting more to get your fill to feel better, it's justified in your mind. Classic in every respect.
One can soften the definition of an addiction. After all that very word, “addict” has a harsh menacing sound to it. Is it better to say “dependent,” or “hooked?” The pictures in our mind we conjure of an addict? What do we see? What do we think? There are a plethora of addictions in the drug world. On the street it can be, meth, crack, heroin, speed, etc. Then we have the “legal” stuff of legend. Oxycontin, Oxycodone, Morphine, Percocet, etc. and that is just the pain medications being prescribed and abused. There are a host of other legal drugs that are legit that get abused as well. Whether By prescription or from the street or even both, you can get “hooked.” Count me in. I have become a statistic.
I am employed thankfully and am involved in business to business sales. If you were to meet me, you would not know that I have an addiction to pain killers. I am well groomed, dress nice and carry myself quite well. I can converse and negotiate business deals. My power point presentations are strong and I am always on time, keep my appointments and follow up on all my emails and phone calls. Not really the picture of an addict, eh?
The connotations associated with an addiction are not good. How will I be perceived? Do I want the secret out? How do I go about this? What do I do? I am afraid, very afraid.
And when you do decide to take that first step of recognition, that there is a problem and it is not going away on it's own; what to do?
Tuesday 1:00pm.
This last Tuesday I decided that the time was now. No point in putting it off any longer. The problem was becoming acute. So, I called my Dr. and was put in touch with his nurse. I spilled my guts. I opened up and told the whole damn ugly truth. It was one of the most difficult things I have ever done.
I think I made a mistake.
I guess I had some crazy notion that someone might care. Nope. Drug abuse is not good. Especially when it comes to the prescribing physician.
Not only was the decision made to come “clean” about the problem, but I also made the decision I was not going to supplant the habit by making additional purchases. No more. I was done. I was also out. Out of the drugs that kept the pain at bay and out of the drugs that kept me from the dreaded withdrawal symptoms. So, I made the call. A call for help.
The nurse called back about 2 hours later to report that the Dr. wanted me to have an MRI of the Thoracic region of my spine. Ok that’s good, I thought. Expensive, but good. However, the Dr. was not going to do anything about the prescription refill, she said. That was it. Full stop. She reported that I was just going to have to wait till this coming Monday June 13 when I see the Dr. and that I will be having withdrawal and I was just going to have to deal with it until then. Uh oh. This is not going to be good after all. Six days to wait. I am in trouble. Big trouble. I thanked her for her time and said goodbye.
Panic sets in.
Now what? That did not go as I had hoped. It's worth mentioning that I have an underlying health issue too. I have a seizure disorder and am on prescription for that as well. Now thankfully over the years this condition is not as it once was. My last Grand Mal has been at least 5 years now. I was concerned that the sudden stop of the drugs could precipitate another event and was curious if they took that into consideration. Didn't matter, I sure as hell wasn't going to call back.
All through that afternoon I pondered my situation. I had a pretty good chance of scoring some drugs. I didn't want that shit anymore. The escalation. The dependency. This has to stop. Now.
Tuesday evening, 6:30pm.
Early that evening I decided, I best tell the wife of the problem. If I was serious about my problem, she at the very least should know. I am a lucky man. My wife was understanding and loving and she said she would stand with me and support me any way she could. Just doesn't get much better than that. Next order of business. Tell my 17 year old son. Again, nothing but support. I am truly blessed.
I want this over with.
I make the call to the insurance company for guidance. For all the things we hear and know about the damn health insurance behemoths, the people I spoke with were understanding and caring. I was genuinely surprised.
They gave me the name of three places here in the valley where I could get in touch with. I took the info and made the call that night to one of the places I felt would best serve my needs. I was relieved. The forest stood before me, but I could see a glimmer of light that would lead me.
Wednesday morning 8:15am.
I think...I made a mistake. Again. The first thing in the morning, I called back to my first choice from the night before and was told that they, meaning the insurance carrier would in all likelihood not cover this. That was his experience in dealing with the insurance company he said. No other alternatives were really offered. That is the short version. For, I had spilled my most intimate details of a problem that I was coming to grips with and after spending over an hour on the phone with them, I felt letdown. No where to go.
Back to the insurance company.
“Listen, what I suggest is you get in contact with.........and they will address and access your situation.” The insurance rep said. I make the phone call to the second place of choice and give all the intimate details. Again. 45 minutes later I am asked who my carrier is? Oh, they most likely will not cover such a treatment, but if you like, I know of a place that might be able.......Son of a bitch! I am thinking this no damn joke. I am serious and I am getting the run around.
Wednesday morning, 11:20am.
Back to the insurance company. By this time I had figured I would be under someones care, or at the very least weaning me off these damn pain killers that are killing me. Reality is starting to set in. There is no quick fix.
I am told that if I just go down there they cannot turn me away. “They have programs that will address what you are telling us.” They are helpful and considerate. However, I am feeling as though it is part of the insurance game plan to discourage me from using said services. But I don't really know. My emotions are not in the best of shape. I wonder if I am capable of this. Panic is ensuing. I want some drugs. I decide to carry on. I must.
I shave and shower, the warmth of the water calms me. I am afraid deep down though. Where is this going to end up?
I grab a travel bag my wife set out for me earlier that morning when she gave me a hug and kiss and told me how much she loved me. I pack it with at least 4 days of clothes. I will just go down there and check myself in. I want resolution. The sooner the better.
Wednesday, 12:45pm.
I'm on the freeway to the other location suggested by the insurance company. The same one that I had been on the phone with earlier that prompted me to call the insurance company back. I find a spot in the parking lot and step out to have a smoke. I am nervous. The building looks nice and there are plenty of trees, that it has a calming effect. I walk the 300 feet to the entrance and think about everything I have done that has brought me to this. I walk through a vestibule and then into the office where I see a woman talking with another co worker. I wait. She eventually asks how she can help me. I search for the words to say. I stammer “I am here for help, I abuse opiate pain relievers.” I am embarrassed to my core. She grabs a business card and writes a number for me to dial. “Go back out where you came in and dial this number and see if there is someone who can assist you, they are probably busy and they may not be able to see you. If so, you can make an appointment.” I look at her with a look that I am sure conveyed, “are you fucking serious?” I return through the vestibule to make the call and decide....this is insane. I don't feel good about this at all and decide to leave.
Wednesday, 1:20pm.
Another phone call to the insurance company. I am in my car driving aimlessly through the city and talking with insurance people. Again. In time I find a place to pull over and talk with them. For 45 minutes. I hang up and I call the third place that was given to me the night before. I speak with a very compassionate and understanding woman and she asks me to come in. I am less than 2 miles from the center and I will be over in less than 10 minutes I tell her. I am starting to feel some relief again. Arrival at the desk and they have me fill out a pile of paperwork. Oh well.
I eventually meet a woman who escorts me back behind secured doors and she proceeds into the assessment. She is professional, somewhat aloof in her questioning. Very dry, as if she has done it a million times.
Nearly 45 minutes later she feels I need to be admitted and go through a detox program. I get the feeling she is more concerned about admitting patients than she is in me. I am not feeling confident. I inquire of the cost associated and she informs that I can speak with the “business manager.” I definitely feel like a product, not a patient. Bottom line. $1,880.00 out of pocket for the detox program and as long as 7 days.
I think I will need to speak with the wife. As I leave, the person who did the assessment meets me and is trying to convince me to stay. She has the access card around her neck, and without her swiping it, I am feeling boxed in. I tell her I will let her know and I am informed to not wait to long, as I will have to go through the assessment again if I wait to long. Jeesh. Are they selling me a car?
Wednesday, 3:30pm.
I call my wife. We talk. She suggests I call my Dr. again. Maybe he can do something that is not so intense and expensive. Yeah, I have been thinking the same thing I reply.
I call the Dr's office and request a phone call from the Dr. Ok is the reply. I wait.
Sitting in the parking lot I watch the vehicles go by on one the busy arterials in the Salt Lake Valley. I wonder if any or how many people are going through a problem of drug dependency? I feel alone. But I shouldn't, I have my family.
Wednesday, 4:15pm. I leave and go home. I am tired. I listen to music and turn it up, hoping for a kick to the brain to make me feel better. It doesn't.
Wednesday, 5:45pm.
I awake from a short nap and see a text on my phone that a contact has some “stuff.” Do I want it? YES. I negotiate a price and we meet two and half hours later in a grocery parking lot. Down go the pills. I have decided I am going to get enough drugs to get me through until my Monday morning appointment with my Dr. I don't like it. It is what it is.
The guilt level rises higher. Sure wish there was a phone app for this. A magic elixir.
I have stopped before and I must say that it is the most excruciating thing a human can go through. The physical and mental assault seems to be never ending and death is preferred to the onslaught. I will avoid that nightmare at all costs.
What the hell have I got myself into? Somewhere along the line of time you realize this shit is going to kill you. My time line of reality has hit. I'm done. I have lost this battle and it is a “come to Jesus moment.” I wait for my appointment and resolution. I hope I have not made another mistake on top of all the others. I feel the need to lie down. My back is screaming for resolution too. Sorry “back,” I think you will have to wait.
So on this rare beautiful Saturday in the Rockies, I am in fear of what is to come.
Sat down yesterday, fighting all the demons and panic that has surrounded me and wrote a letter to my Dr. the prescribing physician. I spelled out in detail my use and time line for him to read before I see him on Monday the 13th. I fear I will be kicked to the curb. So I wait. Maybe it's just one more chapter I need to fill. C'est la vie.