Life is not about the end of the story where you put down the book with a satisfied sigh. It is about all the chapters in between that makes your heart race, bring a smile and make you cry as you work your way deliciously exhausted to the end,where you get to say, "That was a great story!"
"My New Life"
I was conceived in a police parking lot in London, England, East End. It was the part bombed the worst during World War II. I was just a baby but I felt the desperation and panic of rushing to an Air Raid Shelter when the alarms sounded. So, in saying this, I'm saying, what kind of chance did I have from the beginning?
I remember soldiers coming to the door to buy moonshine when my Father deployed to Germany, then off to fight in Korea, leaving my Mother and I to make our way to the United States by way of military transport to New York, then Fort Lee, Virginia for a few more years.
The camp was for officers, but my Father had twenty years in the Army, so we could stay there even though my Father was a Corporal. I was teased by the other kids, just like the German kids teased me in Germany, because I was Jewish.
We never had enough money to buy food or nice furniture. By then,my Father was a shell shock nervous wreck who drank and gambled the money away. He thought taking his belt off, beating you till He was tired was the answer to everything.
My first pain pill, I took a beating from my Father and didn't even feel it. I had come in late from being out with a crowd of people who were older and a six pack of beer each is what we would do. I'd run into a pill or two now and then. I remember how fearless it made me feel and nothing mattered.
I got into scripts in 1965 in Miami when speed and acid was rampant. I was going to eight different doctors and two of them twice a month under two different names. No brag, just fact. After a five year sprint in prison, I went out to Texas to join my husband getting out of prison as he had a union bricklaying job lined up. We fought from sun up to sun down.
At times I had a black eye and broken ribs. I caught my foot in an open primary chain on an Indian motorcycle and almost split my foot in half. I ended up leaving him. I still had this alcohol thing going on and from going to the hospital, getting pain pills for this and that. I didn't think you could get strung out on pain pills as you did speed. It's really sneaky stuff.
I kept on with the partying and looking out for some percs or any opiates. I thought I was taking good care of myself. I got a D.W.I. in 1984 and soon afterwards joined Alcoholic Anonymous. It wasn't until 1991 did I stay sober. No pain pills or alcohol, nothing at all. When I was sure I could retain my sobriety, I, then, returned back to my home town, Orlando. I did stay clean until I allowed my husband join me.
There's just so much that can happen to us in our every day lives. He developed carpal tunnel in both his hands, followed by Arthritis. He was prescribed Oxycontin and yes, of course, I started taking them, too. I had sobered up. Now, I was much older and all the broken bones I had acquired began to ache. I worked as a waitress in a busy hotel restaurant. I had to do a lot of walking and I was beginning to wear out at my age.
I started taking 10mg Oxycontin and it worked just great to get me through the day. I thought I would get my life back on track. The next seven years was one rodeo ride I don't ever want to do again. One day a friend of mine told me about Suboxone and gave me a number to call.
I called the number one day when I had run out and had no way of obtaining anymore. Suboxone was the last train leaving for me and I jumped on and rode it, not letting go for nothing. I showed up at their office in my bed clothes. I didn't even have the strength to get dressed. Once I returned Home, I showered and put on a clean gown and went to bed.
I was still weak from the past six years. I wasn't sure at all I could survive the ordeal. I started out on 24 mg (8mg three times a day). From the beginning, I looked at the medication as temporary and worked toward less and less. I think there is a line you cross over when you get strung out and there's a line you cross back over when you quit. It's just something that comes from within, something that's very right.
I don't go up and down so much now. I'm on an even keel. When I feel like I'm not going to make it, I tell myself I can, even if I'm not sure it's true. "Act as if is true!" I have no other choice but to make it. I'm on 1 to 2mg a day. When the day comes I know inside I've got a chance, I'll make it.
Suboxone saved my life. I've watched too many people die to give up on myself and my friends I've grown to love and matter to.
It happens to nurses,too. I was addicted to painkillers of all varieties, the most recent one being Oxycontin, on and off since high school. Presently, I am twenty-six years old and with the help of Suboxone, I am finally able to see a future for myself.
I have been clean and sober three weeks today, February 11, 2008. As small as it may seem to you, it is a miraculous achievement for me. Before I stumbled upon the Suboxone Assisted Treatment, I thought I had no chance of recovery and was waiting, once again, for the next relapse.
Now, I'm not waiting for anything, I'm actually living my life. Not only are the urges non-existent, but I have the concentration and the motivation to get up out of bed and go all day.
I believe every physician should be educated on how to prescribe Suboxone. If they were aware of how many times a day they write prescriptions for patients pretending to be in pain,they would all want to learn about the medication.
"It Can Happen To Any Of Us."
Editor: Deborah Shrira Dated: March 15, 2008