oxydose
03-30-2007, 04:14 PM
Originally written and posted on &TOTSE, I figured some might find my ordeal a interesting read. I wrote this while I was clean & sober, as you can tell thats no longer the case. The 3rd mentioned is January the 3rd, couple days past new years. Damn methadone ;l
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Jeez I know this is long, so heres some cliff notes, also I know its horribly written. I'm not aiming for no archive, just trying to let people know what happen to me:
I almost died of a accidental opiate overdose the 3rd, my body went threw shit, doctors/god did good and I woke up withdraw free. I was then forced in a pysc ward for 4 days.
So if anyones been wondering about me here it goes.
I recently got out of the psyc ward. On the 3rd I had a accidental opiate overdose which nearly shut down my kidneys and liver, i've lost part of my hearing. I woke up nearly deaf but it seems to be getting better every day.
Ok so what happened. I had gotten on the needle as of late shooting whatever opiate rx's I could cook. I ran up on a great deal on a script of methadone 10's and had been eating them about 5 days before the accident. The day of the overdose I had eaten 50mg of methadone, but it kept staking upon the previous days dose. Later on that night I finnally got ahold of some oxycontin and decided to bang off 40mg, bad bad mistake. I went out remembering nothing else.
Now the next day (3rd) a junkie aquantance of mine came buy EARLY at 8:30am and tried to wake me, he said I was snoring very loud but wouldn't wake up. He left returning at 1:30 where he still couldn't wake me, so he wen't to our mutual good friends house and told him this. They immediatly came over to check on me where they found me going into respitory failure. He tried for 20 minutes unsuccessfully to wake me up, he then quickly called 911 and kept at me. By this time white stuff was comming out of my nose and mouth(no idea?) and I was having a VERY difficult time breathing, so he made sure my toung stays depressed leaving me a air passage.
So the EMT's show up and they finnally get my big ass on a stretcher (luckily 2 of my buddies and my uncle was there to help them). They put me in the ambulance and start to take off and thats when it happen, I flatlined. So the driver immediatly threw the van back into park and jumped into the back and started in on me, I was told I was flatlined for nearly 10 minutes when he finnally got me breathing again.
So we rush to the local hospital who had no fucking clue what to do, all they did was immediatly call a better hospital 20 minutes away who told them to get me there immediatly. I was told they got me there in about 10 minutes so they must of been flying.
So I get at the other hospital and they start in on me. I wasn't awake or atleast lucidly for days. Apperently my kidney had failed and my liver wasn't far behind, they told my family that if I made it i'd loose a kidney and partial function of my liver, at this time they started kidney dialasis on me. 12 hours later the doctor came back and to tell my family that somehow my kidney and liver had started working again on there own. At the same time they started to filter my blood which they fully did a total of 3 times, they kept me knocked out this entire time. They did this not only to get the drug out of my system quickly but also so when I woke up i'd be completely undependant worrying that w/d would through me into shock harming my kidney/liver. Also they had to keep me on a machine to make me breath which they gradually lowered making sure my body could do it on its own.
So i'm fully out of my mind this whole time, I wake up lucidly the 7th. What a fucking way to wake up, its like going to sleep one nite fine and waking up days later barely being able to hear, everyone around me now different, but most importantly, I WAS NOW UNDEPENDANT OF NARCOTICS. My body no longer yearned for the drug like I had grown so accustom to. It was so surreal like a dream sorta to me but a nightmare to my whole family/friends. Now they had wrongly wrote down overdose/possible suicide attempt on my case, which was totally wrong, I had about 20 80mg oxy's, morphine, and methadon still left. If I had wanted to die I would have, I had a bad drug opiate addicition and was merely trying to get off. Never the less I was forced to sign into a short term pysch ward at the same hospital in ordered to be monitored. It was some scaring shit knowing your being watched, and that your not sure how long you'll be here, basicly that your life was now in a doctors hand, a doctor whom you'd never even met before. This whole time now being barely able to hear whats being said to you.
Imagine having someone coming up to you and asking if you'd heard/seen anything that wasnt there, If you'd had thoughts to harm yourself or others, Now imagine this happening each day. FUCK NO, All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of that place.
So what did I do? I woke my ass up everyday being prompt, I praticipated in every Group thing I could even though I now couldnt even hear a person sitting a couple feet away. The third day there my psyc doctor called me to speak with him and told me he didn't think I needed to be there and was going to cut me loose the next day and recommended that I go to outpatient drug rehab. I told him I concured. So the 11th at 3:30 I was finnally allowed to go home, but everyone is different now, hell i'm different now.
Them days fully sober really gave me time to relize how bad I had let myself get, and how quick it had happened. I realized how much narcotics had not only hurt me but everyone around me, my mother sit inside leg ridden with cancer unable to get up for 10 minutes wondering why the ambulance had stopped again, everyone lied to her but she knew what was going on. If I had died right then and there i'm not sure if she could of ever went on with life, atleast with a clear concience.
I've done some bad things in my life, but that is the worst, thats what eats at me now. Knowing what I put my ill mother threw, what kind of fucking person am I...
If I took something from this its that lifes way to short to be worried so much about all the small dumb shit. I do not think Im saved at this point in my life, I think this is my 2nd chance to appriciate life, and seek god and his forgiveness for all the fucked up things ive done.
I'm not comming down on anything, fundementally I still think drugs are good. You just have to keep yourself in control of the drug, and never let it control you. I'm powerless to drugs in the sence that at my point theres nothing I can ever do to make me not want to use, I cant do anything to kill that urge. I can just try each day to surpress it and try to live my life as best I can, A Day at a Time...
So in conclusion i'd just like to make a few warnings to people.
WATCH METHADONE, IT STAYS IN YOUR SYSTEM FOR A GOOD PEROID SO USING HIGH DOSES EACH DAY WILL STACK UPON THE PREVIOUS DAYS DOSE. ALSO WATCH MIXING ANYTHING WITH METHADONE, ITS JUST NOT A GREAT IDEA.
STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE NEEDLE, ITS A FUCKING BASTARD. IF YOU SEE FRIENDS GO TOWARDS THE NEEDLE ATLEAST TRY TO STOP THEM. I'D BEEN USING FOR YEARS BUT I LOST MYSELF SO QUICKLY WHEN I TOOK TO THE NEEDLE.
USE OPIATES SPARENLY, THEY'VE WRECKED MY LIFE, AND ALMOST TOOK IT FROM ME. I UNDERSTAND YOU CAN TALK TO A JUNKIE UNTIL YOUR BLUE IN THE FACE ABOUT NOT USING, AND IT'LL NEVER MAKE A DIFFERENCE UNLESS THEY WANT TO CHANGE. BUT IT NEVER HURTS TO TRY, AND ONLY MAKES YOU A BETTER PERSON FOR IT.
NEVER THINK YOUR SMARTER THAN ANY DRUG, AS A LOT OF YOU KNOW I WAS *VERY* KNOWLEDGE-ABLE ABOUT DRUGS. I KNEW HOW METHADONE WORKED, I REALLY DONT KNOW WHY I DECIDED I NEEDED TO BANG THAT 40MG OF OC ON TOP OF IT, ITS JUST THE PULL OF THE NEEDLE.
I NEVER thought i'd be that person who overdosed, I knew way to much. Today I relize I don't know jackshit, just when I think I got everything figuered out I wake up the next day and have to rethink about everything.
So thats my story, If i'd died yall would never known and that would of been the end of it, but I got a 2nd chance which I think God for everyday.
------------------------------
Jeez I know this is long, so heres some cliff notes, also I know its horribly written. I'm not aiming for no archive, just trying to let people know what happen to me:
I almost died of a accidental opiate overdose the 3rd, my body went threw shit, doctors/god did good and I woke up withdraw free. I was then forced in a pysc ward for 4 days.
So if anyones been wondering about me here it goes.
I recently got out of the psyc ward. On the 3rd I had a accidental opiate overdose which nearly shut down my kidneys and liver, i've lost part of my hearing. I woke up nearly deaf but it seems to be getting better every day.
Ok so what happened. I had gotten on the needle as of late shooting whatever opiate rx's I could cook. I ran up on a great deal on a script of methadone 10's and had been eating them about 5 days before the accident. The day of the overdose I had eaten 50mg of methadone, but it kept staking upon the previous days dose. Later on that night I finnally got ahold of some oxycontin and decided to bang off 40mg, bad bad mistake. I went out remembering nothing else.
Now the next day (3rd) a junkie aquantance of mine came buy EARLY at 8:30am and tried to wake me, he said I was snoring very loud but wouldn't wake up. He left returning at 1:30 where he still couldn't wake me, so he wen't to our mutual good friends house and told him this. They immediatly came over to check on me where they found me going into respitory failure. He tried for 20 minutes unsuccessfully to wake me up, he then quickly called 911 and kept at me. By this time white stuff was comming out of my nose and mouth(no idea?) and I was having a VERY difficult time breathing, so he made sure my toung stays depressed leaving me a air passage.
So the EMT's show up and they finnally get my big ass on a stretcher (luckily 2 of my buddies and my uncle was there to help them). They put me in the ambulance and start to take off and thats when it happen, I flatlined. So the driver immediatly threw the van back into park and jumped into the back and started in on me, I was told I was flatlined for nearly 10 minutes when he finnally got me breathing again.
So we rush to the local hospital who had no fucking clue what to do, all they did was immediatly call a better hospital 20 minutes away who told them to get me there immediatly. I was told they got me there in about 10 minutes so they must of been flying.
So I get at the other hospital and they start in on me. I wasn't awake or atleast lucidly for days. Apperently my kidney had failed and my liver wasn't far behind, they told my family that if I made it i'd loose a kidney and partial function of my liver, at this time they started kidney dialasis on me. 12 hours later the doctor came back and to tell my family that somehow my kidney and liver had started working again on there own. At the same time they started to filter my blood which they fully did a total of 3 times, they kept me knocked out this entire time. They did this not only to get the drug out of my system quickly but also so when I woke up i'd be completely undependant worrying that w/d would through me into shock harming my kidney/liver. Also they had to keep me on a machine to make me breath which they gradually lowered making sure my body could do it on its own.
So i'm fully out of my mind this whole time, I wake up lucidly the 7th. What a fucking way to wake up, its like going to sleep one nite fine and waking up days later barely being able to hear, everyone around me now different, but most importantly, I WAS NOW UNDEPENDANT OF NARCOTICS. My body no longer yearned for the drug like I had grown so accustom to. It was so surreal like a dream sorta to me but a nightmare to my whole family/friends. Now they had wrongly wrote down overdose/possible suicide attempt on my case, which was totally wrong, I had about 20 80mg oxy's, morphine, and methadon still left. If I had wanted to die I would have, I had a bad drug opiate addicition and was merely trying to get off. Never the less I was forced to sign into a short term pysch ward at the same hospital in ordered to be monitored. It was some scaring shit knowing your being watched, and that your not sure how long you'll be here, basicly that your life was now in a doctors hand, a doctor whom you'd never even met before. This whole time now being barely able to hear whats being said to you.
Imagine having someone coming up to you and asking if you'd heard/seen anything that wasnt there, If you'd had thoughts to harm yourself or others, Now imagine this happening each day. FUCK NO, All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of that place.
So what did I do? I woke my ass up everyday being prompt, I praticipated in every Group thing I could even though I now couldnt even hear a person sitting a couple feet away. The third day there my psyc doctor called me to speak with him and told me he didn't think I needed to be there and was going to cut me loose the next day and recommended that I go to outpatient drug rehab. I told him I concured. So the 11th at 3:30 I was finnally allowed to go home, but everyone is different now, hell i'm different now.
Them days fully sober really gave me time to relize how bad I had let myself get, and how quick it had happened. I realized how much narcotics had not only hurt me but everyone around me, my mother sit inside leg ridden with cancer unable to get up for 10 minutes wondering why the ambulance had stopped again, everyone lied to her but she knew what was going on. If I had died right then and there i'm not sure if she could of ever went on with life, atleast with a clear concience.
I've done some bad things in my life, but that is the worst, thats what eats at me now. Knowing what I put my ill mother threw, what kind of fucking person am I...
If I took something from this its that lifes way to short to be worried so much about all the small dumb shit. I do not think Im saved at this point in my life, I think this is my 2nd chance to appriciate life, and seek god and his forgiveness for all the fucked up things ive done.
I'm not comming down on anything, fundementally I still think drugs are good. You just have to keep yourself in control of the drug, and never let it control you. I'm powerless to drugs in the sence that at my point theres nothing I can ever do to make me not want to use, I cant do anything to kill that urge. I can just try each day to surpress it and try to live my life as best I can, A Day at a Time...
So in conclusion i'd just like to make a few warnings to people.
WATCH METHADONE, IT STAYS IN YOUR SYSTEM FOR A GOOD PEROID SO USING HIGH DOSES EACH DAY WILL STACK UPON THE PREVIOUS DAYS DOSE. ALSO WATCH MIXING ANYTHING WITH METHADONE, ITS JUST NOT A GREAT IDEA.
STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE NEEDLE, ITS A FUCKING BASTARD. IF YOU SEE FRIENDS GO TOWARDS THE NEEDLE ATLEAST TRY TO STOP THEM. I'D BEEN USING FOR YEARS BUT I LOST MYSELF SO QUICKLY WHEN I TOOK TO THE NEEDLE.
USE OPIATES SPARENLY, THEY'VE WRECKED MY LIFE, AND ALMOST TOOK IT FROM ME. I UNDERSTAND YOU CAN TALK TO A JUNKIE UNTIL YOUR BLUE IN THE FACE ABOUT NOT USING, AND IT'LL NEVER MAKE A DIFFERENCE UNLESS THEY WANT TO CHANGE. BUT IT NEVER HURTS TO TRY, AND ONLY MAKES YOU A BETTER PERSON FOR IT.
NEVER THINK YOUR SMARTER THAN ANY DRUG, AS A LOT OF YOU KNOW I WAS *VERY* KNOWLEDGE-ABLE ABOUT DRUGS. I KNEW HOW METHADONE WORKED, I REALLY DONT KNOW WHY I DECIDED I NEEDED TO BANG THAT 40MG OF OC ON TOP OF IT, ITS JUST THE PULL OF THE NEEDLE.
I NEVER thought i'd be that person who overdosed, I knew way to much. Today I relize I don't know jackshit, just when I think I got everything figuered out I wake up the next day and have to rethink about everything.
So thats my story, If i'd died yall would never known and that would of been the end of it, but I got a 2nd chance which I think God for everyday.