Pain Control Should End With Detox
On April 24, 2014, I walked to a store to get cigarettes. It was at night. I made it to the middle of the street. A truck racing around the corner of our neighborhood ran me over at about 35 to 40 mph. I don’t remember much about the impact but a third-hand account states I was thrown into the air and landed on my back. I remember coming to and seeing paramedics standing over me with a look of shock on their faces. I tried to get up, and they restrained me. As I looked down, I saw where the searing pain was coming from; I had bones sticking out of both of my legs. My femur was out of my left leg, and my tibia on my right. I was in so much pain as I was lifted into the ambulance. I was screaming in tears, my blood pressure extremely dangerously high from my severe pain. I was given every drop of morphine on board, and it didn’t even touch the pain I was in. I was rushed to the hospital. The ride was excruciating. Every bump from the road amplified the pain 100X. I reached the hospital and was immediately brought into the back of the emergency room, and they began assessing the damage I had sustained. The doctors warned me of what was about to happen next. My bones had to be set and popped back in before I was given an adequate anesthetic. Nurses started to surround me and hold me down, and an orthopedic surgeon took to my feet and began to twist and pull on one leg at a time.
Every crack and crunch of my bones being forced into place without anesthesia was so painful that it mentally scarred me. After all of the medically necessary torture, the doctors were well aware of, I was given a constant push of I.V. Dilaudid, Percocet, and I.V. Valium. Later on, it was established that both of my legs were broken, requiring two surgeries on my left and one on my right to fix them. Not only that, but my spleen had ruptured, requiring three blood transfusions, I had three broken ribs, my pelvis was broken, and there were contusions to my lungs. For thirty days, I was given Percocet orally and I.V. Dilaudid, and I.V. Valium. All of this was medically necessary because the pain from the injuries had my vitals sky-high.
While recovering at home, I couldn’t put any weight on my legs for six months. By then, I had forgotten how to walk, which you would not even think was possible. I was given many prescriptions of Percocet and Valium during the six months of recovery. But due to the euphoric effects of the I.V. Dilaudid for the month when I was in the hospital on top of the traumatic experiences, I could justify not taking them as prescribed and ate handfuls of the narcotics. The amount of pain medicine and Valium I consumed was insane, with little to no effects. This fact led me to I.V. heroin to feel pain relief to a degree and remind me of the euphoria I achieved in the hospital. It was medically necessary for all the pain medicine I was given for my accident and recovery. Still, it was also a curse because I abused it immediately when left to my own devices.
I wish that people who go through painful experiences or surgeries requiring pain control for an extended period would receive a detox (once they are physically better) to get them back into the mental and physical state they were in before the event occurred. It became so easy for me to chase the high that was gone, and heroin was the only viable option in my mind to turn to.
“There is a way out of this trap, and it does not always require a lifetime of pain meds at increasing dosages.”
If you have a loved one struggling with addiction to pain medicine, they need help. Too often, a lifelong addiction starts with an accident or injury requiring pain medication. There is a way out of this trap, and it does not always require a lifetime of pain meds at increasing dosages. Reach out for help before it’s too late.
M.G. Narconon Staff Member
