Tag Archive | opiate

Baader-meinhof and all the other things gon going on in my life that got me feeling some type of way

Baader Meinhof is the term that’s been on my mind quite a bit lately has it happened to me several times in recent weeks. This is the phenomena where you hear a word or perhaps phrase for the first time and then shortly after that you start hearing it all the time.

This happened to me first with the phrase ” hit the Quan”. One of my Facebook friends posted the clip of the news anchor women dancing to the song. It caught my attention so then I looked up the song, listened to it, got frustrated that I  had no clue what the lyrics meant then looked up those as well.

After googling the lyrics and reading enough so that felt I had some understanding, I saw that song everywhere. I don’t know if an experience can qualify as the baader-meinhof phenomenon when it involves something that’s viral because the whole concept of something being viral means that it’s everywhere all the time. That being said, I feel like I had a Baader Meinhof type experience with hit the Quan. Shortly after all of my googling, Facebook friend posted about his experience hearing the song and then immediately feeling the need to google the lyrics so that he could define them. That somehow validated my thoughts of Baader Meinhof.

I then had a very similar experience with the phrase “feeling some type of way.” I first came across it on Love and Hip Hop Atlanta. This is a show I stumbled upon and have been binge-watching for much of the time that I’ve been housebound. Something about all the messiness and drama in these people’s lives soothes me and somehow counts me be okay with all  the messiness  and drama in my own. I am sure cat that speaks to something messed up in my own character. But all of these goals I have set and I’m slowly slowly working on well hopefully work towards fixing some of that. In the meantime I take comfort wherever comfort is.

Being that all the cast is from the south, they do use some slang that I am unfamiliar with however I can usually deduce what people mean by the context. But this particular phrase stumped me. So much like the whole hit the Quan thing, I googled and read a bunch of entries on Urban Dictionary. I even look up things on Facebook and YouTube. I came across the Rich Homie Quan song “Some type of way”. 

Again much like the first experience, once I understood the term, I started hearing it everywhere. I found out later from Husband that it was a term that’s been around not really something new. Far as I can understand, it’s a term that existed and then was somewhat revived with the popularity of the song.

Guess I’m talking about all this nonsense to avoid the real topic of how terribly I’m struggling. Pain and immobility have taken me over. I am NOT a functional human being. I am merely existing, barely doing the minimum of self-care. I made quite a bit of progress with several phone calls on Friday afternoon. I think I made quite a bit of headway toward getting my PCA, I also worked on my appeal for the scooter, and help do the referral for the in home physical therapy that I both tried and desperately need.

Monday I need to make headway on the hand doctor, dentist appointments and pain specialists. I am both terrified and desperately in need  of actual pain management. I cannot seem to communicate that to the people around me.

I have been on the same Suboxone dose for the past two years. That is now simply maintenance. It does nothing or next to nothing to actually help with my pain. Within those same two years, I have had a major decline in my physical condition and a major increase in my pain. I think maybe my Suboxone doctor understands the situation but he has no clue how difficult it is to self refer to these pain clinics when you are in my situation. So month after month when I see him and he doesn’t see me any closer to transitioning into a Pain Clinic because I haven’t been able to get on an appointment he sighs in frustration and writes me another refill. So month after month things stay the same.

I need change. I can’t go on like this. The trapped desperate need to feel different is scary and somehow horribly familiar.


Up in the wee hours..

It’s around 4 am and I’ve been up for about an hour. I am swollen and freaking miserable. I don’t know if I’m going to get back to restorative sleep or just be hurting and sleepy all day. It’s times like these when being washed away on a cloud of opiate oblivion is most tempting and it’s a damn good thing I can’t get myself out the door to score something.

Right now I am grateful for any and every distraction from how it feels to be me, inside this body, this morning.

Compilation of my very 1st month blogging.. very early in recovery..

SO all of this writing is pulled from when I very 1st started using WordPress. I was at a raw point in my life as the text will show. I am reposting as a reminder to myself and anyone else in recovery that if you stay at it, things will improve.

I need this reminder now because I have gotten in to a very shameful, dark headspace as I persue wls and have to examine the depth, origin and consequences of my food issues. I need this reminder to show me if I let professionals and caring others help me and follow suggestions made by people smarter than me who have done this all before, I can make progress. Major things can change. Things that seem insurmountable. I’m not saying I have reached the pinnacle of addiction recovery, not even less than halfway there.. but my life is definitely lightyears better than how it was when I started and I truly did accomplish that one day at a time.


Ok.. so a lot has happened and maybe not enough has happened. I wonder sometimes.

My family is doing very well.

Son is having a much better time in 3rd grade than 2nd. Many things contribute to this, I know. He started with the other kids instead of the middle of the year. He has had an excellent IEP in place since the very 1st day of school and it has made all the difference. Plus, his home routine has smoothed out and stabilized tremendously. I realized early in with him that reliable routine is his personal secret for success. If he knows what to expect by what day it is, he functions extremely well and has next to no anxiety. So, even though there are still many things to be resolved between Husband and me, I think that us co-parenting, under the same roof as a reliably united front has helped him tremendously.

Daughter is still living with my parents. I miss her like crazy some days and we really have to work at getting time together cause she is so busy, but she is doing incredibly well in that GED program at the career center. She just got certified in her microsoft class and she is taking the last of the GED tests this AM. Yesterday waws her last day of “school” there. When she goes back on Monday she will be working for Sally, doing whatever she needs from computer tasks and making copies to helping another student understand his or her assignment.

Husband got his Voc Rehab and he’s thrown himself into being a student. They are paying for school,, full ride plus supplies and something to live on. This is truly an answer to prayer. He’s wants to do a degree in mechanical engineering at Umass Dartmouth. He’s been out of school for a really long time though so the Umass guy said for him to do a few credits at Massasoit, then he’ll take him at Umass.

We only have the one car now. So Tuesdays and Thursdays I am on my own getting Son to the bus, and then left alone for the day in the house. First I was just binge watching whatever I could lose myslef in to fill the hours or playing games on the computer, jumping from fcebook to pogo to big fish. Maintainting level and raising scores like these things matter to my life.I have felt some measure of guilt or need to show that I accomplished something in the hours and hours that he was off learning and my kids were doing what they were supposed to be doing, but I was just wasting away and I’m not even wasted anymore.

I am heavy.. not just fat I feel heavy when my knees are flared like this. When I stand up, the pain is tremendous. i don’t know what t o do. I meet with a knee surgeon from Tufts and i am sure that they are gonna tell me that I need to lose 80 lbs before they’ll do anything because my size combined with the other risk factors makes me a too big of a risk and guarunttes needing to do the op agoin way too soon., end up in a wheelchir blah diddy blah blah!

The thing is, I HATE being this size. And… I’m overtired and emotional so I will post more later


If you tell me something that I did that you don’t like and I say ok, and even apologize is there really any reason to keep going on and on about it? I know you’re pissed that I burnt the pizza. I know that you spent $48 on those pizzas cause they were for Son’s fundraiser. Do you think being a complete d-bag about helps me? Helps us? Resurrects overpriced veggie pizza?

And why do you tell me something and then keep talking crap to yourself, but loud enough for me to hear you? What does that do but drive us even further apart? Which is something you were lamenting last night and the night before and the night before when you think I’m sleeping and you lay next to me talking about how far apart we’ve grown.

Here’s a nifty idea! Why don’t you try doing something that fosters some intimacy between us? Asking me what would make me happy? Doing something to make me happy?


I went to therapy today after having missed 2 appointments in a row. I suppose I should make it clear exactly what depends on this therapy going right. I am in recovery. DCF is in our lives. My marriage and my relationship with my children is on the line and this clinic is who supplies with my insurance subsidized suboxone therapy without which, my life as an opiate addicted rheumatois arthritis patient is even more hell on walker, then it is now. Most days I don’t even want to get out of bed in the am at all. I sit at the edge of my bed, tears welling up in my eyes. Hands, wrists, knees, cankles and feet swollen beyond reason red, mishappen and feeling next to useless. My shoulders ache to a point that even the slightest movement of my neck or my arms feels like a scream. So I sit, on the edge of the bed, putting off the weight bearing untill my bladder won’t let me wait any longer.

ANYways..because i am a fuck-up addict who can’t keep her shit together even when everything depends on it, I have missed my last 2 appointments w/o calling and skipped my last 2 random urines.

Why, you may ask.. Well I’ll tell you.. the appointments are because I was afraid of being put on notice like today, wherein Counsellor made me sign an agreement saying that if I missed 1 more appointment w/o 24 hrs notice that I would be kicked out of the program! Meaning no more therapy that has kept me relatively on the straight and narrow , no more suboxone, no more managability, not to mention wtf the judge would say if they realized that I bombed out of the only thing I had going for me.

The reason why I skipped my last 2 color days is because both times they were called when I had run out of subs before my refill date and I was terrified that my pee would tell on me, that I, the colossal , fuck-up am now doing the same bullshit with my addiction therapy that I did with my painkillers. Using more than prescribed right after refill, trying to escape everything I hate about me and running out early. So now I am exactly 1 missed appointment away from losing what little ground I have managed to gain by completely bombing out of treatment.

Please, please, please GOD, help me get my crap together!

View from my bedroom window


We’ve had a lot of snow on my little slice of the East Coast this winter. So far we’ve had 6 snow days in the last 6 weeks and, as frustrating and plan changing as THAT can be with kids and all, it’s even more so for someone with limited mobility.

Because I depend on a walker to get around I can’t go out right after snow falls. I need certainty that Beth my home and wherever I am going have had proper snow removal and salting so the walker can roll like it should. 

I’ve been having severe opiate cravings. I don’t know if it’s all the stress.. physical, financial, marital,  circumstantial but I’m fiending for the oblivion that comes along with being “other”.

Using isn’t worth starting over. Having to rebuild trust with Husband,  Daughter,  Son and everyone in my treatment center. Plus who knows if I’d even get a a second chance with the Suboxone program and as much as I can be frustrated with my life as it is, it is light years better than where we were.

Disjointed insomniac thoughts and calling 911..

Crazy day. Shortly after Son got on the school bus yesterday morning Husband informed me that he had called 911 for himself and the ambulance was on it’s way. Literally a minute or so after he said that I heard the howl of approaching sirens.

I was laying down when they got here. Morning is always my worst mobility time and everything had been aggravated by the fact that it had been a rough night as Husband had spiked a fever and been vomiting so I was on the couch barely able to move at all.

EMT knocked with that scary loud poundy knock that emergency workers and cops have and husband had to answer the door for himself because even though he was farther away AND half delirious with fever and winded from the kidney pain he got there first. So EMT sees a 6’2 man walking to the door himself and me just laying on the couch..he got a little attitude-y for a second.

“So.. (points at Husband) you called… for yourself and you (gestures at me on the couch) can’t drive him in for whatever is SUCH an emergency. Is that what’s going on? Is that how we’re gonna play today?”

He left me at a kind of a loss for words for a second because whenever I am in a situation of being forced to defend my disability I just feel like a someone who is lying even though I am so not. Who the hell would claim the joints, as one doctor memorably described while looking at my x-rays, of a hard living 80 year old.. plus all the other health problems to boot? It’s not attractive to be sick and crippled. I can’t imagine anyone claiming it falsely, YET I still feel like a liar if I’m forced to use words rather then letting my physical appearance while moving around speak for itself.

It turned out not to matter this morning though, because while going back to the bedroom for his shoes Husband completely lost his breath and doubled over in pain. You could clearly hear that he was wheezing and also that pain was practically taking his breath away. When the tech approached him in alarm, he also felt the high fever baking off of him. Suddenly, blessedly, EMT was all health professional, quickly and respectfully asking me questions so that he could speedily get Husband what he needed. They rushed out the door, Husband clutching his cell phone and meds with one hand and his stabbing belly with the other. They didn’t even say goodbye.

After he left I felt overwhelmed and scared and relieved all at once. Overwhelmed with the idea of acknowledging how bad his needs actually are. Scared for him, that he might have to go all the way through the process of passing kidney stones with no pain relief because he is pretty much intolerant of any opiate painkillers. No matter what the variety, what the dosage, the nausea, dizziness and vomiting he gets as a side effect overwhelm any relief. So I was worried.

But he got there, they assessed him and he explained his issues with opiates and they worked around it by putting him on IV dilaudid and something IV for nausea and vomiting. He was actually able to experience some relief. And they put an oxygen tube in his nose. So he was able to breathe and get some sleep. Then they admitted him and when it was time to get more pain med the bitch doctor came in and gave him crap about the dilaudid.

“They give that out like candy downstairs. That’s not how I do things. I’m not going to give a drug that’s usually reserved for terminal cancer patients for Mr. Broken Toe.”

Oxygen tubes, kidney stones, pneumonia and IVs be damned, Husband spoke up for himself.

“Who the heck ( he actually does say heck, he’s very big on not cursing.. you’d think he’d sound ridiculous but he doesn’t when he puts the bass in his voice) is up in this bed with a broken toe? Did you even read the file? Do you even know what I’m dealing with?”

SO they had it out, he hounded her till she read the file and agreed that the hardcore pain meds / antinausea IV combo were what he needed. It was kind of ridiculous or ironic that Mr. Super Sober was treated like a drug seeker. You guys might not get it but between what my opiate issues did to us and what opiates usually do to his own body he is the LAST person in the world that would be drug seeking for pleasure.

So he’s there. Last we talked he was miserably trying to hold down cat scan contrast so they could give  him a ct of his abdomen, By that point, I was doing a whole lot better. I had felt sad, scared and overwhelmed and alone. On top of everything it had started snowing again and it was my Suboxone refill and counseling appointment day.

Crisis in our life usually results in a lot of phone calls and facebooking. Letting family,church and other friends know what’s going on and updating everyone as I get updates. So I started doing all of that and also calling my doctor and my counselor to let them know that i had an emergency, couldn’t come in and most importantly that I needed my script faxed in because I was completely out. I had to leave all of that info with the secretary because nobody was in yet so after leaving all of that info and rescheduling my appointment for 1 week out I had to wait and see what was going to happen with the script. It’s really not a good thing to miss appointments at my treatment center. I have obligations I am supposed to fulfill regularly to prove that I am not just a useless junkie anymore. And due to snow, physical pain and some pretty hard core depression I’ve been dealing with lately I have missed a LOT of appointments. So I worry that a refill day is going to come and Dr. M is going to be like, “You did not honor your contract. You’re no longer in the program.”

But that day wasn’t yesterday. Partway through my giant web of crisis social networking, I got a call from my counselor who was very supportive, then the secretary saying that she would fax in the script. She asked me about the pharmacy and I like an IDIOT gave her the CVS closest to my house which for some reason, a few months ago, after faithfully filling my script each month, they decided to not keep Suboxone in stock properly which means stupid hassle after hassle. Give them the script, wait the hours that they say it takes to fill it, trying to distract my inner addict, who’s all,”Gimme, gimme, gimme! It’s refill day. REFILL ME!”

When I drop a script off or it is faxed over I can check the computer to see if it’s filled or being worked on, and I also get a text when its available for pickup, But yesterday like a freaking moron I gave her the fail CVS, the script just sat for hours, looking on my end of things like they were working on it.

SO long story long, I finally broke down and called them which I hate doing because I hate sounding like a junkie and that’s when they told me that their order didn’t come in right and that they couldn’t fill it today, but tomorrow after 5, worst case scenario Monday at the latest, they’d have it in. I said that didn’t work for me.

That was part because my inner junkie couldn’t stand waiting an ambiguous amount of time to have what she’s allowed daily and part because  by that time my awesome Daughter, who had the day off and had heard what I was dealing with had volunteered to come over, do some shopping and pick up my meds. She wasn’t going to be available tomorrow after 5, or Monday worst case scenario. I asked could they transfer it to a CVS that had it and she said no, THEY couldn’t but if I wanted to call around and see who had it in stock, then have the doctor fax it there. That pissed me off. Cause I knew what kind of pain it was gonna be to get the clinic to refax it on their busiest day of the week  and ALSO pharmacies are not usually inclined to tell random people on the phone which schedule III narcotics they have in stock.

Instead I took a gamble and had it faxed to the one that had solved my problems last month, by filling it quickly without hassle or attitude.And it worked. Dr. M only faxed in a weeks worth which means I am not going to be able to get away with not seeing him face to face next week.

The day ended on a good note for us. The kids took Husband being very ill in stride. Son was very pragmatic about it.

He said something like,” Well, if he’s very sick like he seemed the the hospital is the best place for him. And the car is here for us so we’ll be ok if we need to do anything.”

Then he ate his snack and went to his after school program at the community center. Daughter, like me, had more complicated emotions about it because like me, her relationship to Husband is a whole lot more complex due to a difficult past when Husband ruled the house with controlling behavior and unchecked anger issues. He has changed a lot,  but the past is still an undercurrent that’s always there.

That didn’t affect how much she and her boyfriend went out of their way to be there for me.They went shopping, picked up my meds, came over, cooked, washed dishes, hung out, played with Son, and laughed at old episodes of Saved by the Bell while still marveling how great Mario Lopez STILL looks. (that last part was Daughter and I.. (Son and Boyfriend couldn’t care less, or whatever that saying is.)

She made everything better. I didn’t even have to ask. And it wasn’t even just the food and the meds that made me feel better. It was the love behind it. Sometimes when pain and depression and illness get the better of me, I wonder why the hell I’m still here and I look at  my kids and the meaning of it all floods back in. Thank you babygirl and little man, for making me a mommy.

I am counterproductive. .or am I?

I just called to reschedule the appointment with the pain clinic that I have been waiting forever for. Given the fact that I am in excruciating pain this seems counterproductive.

Husband does not get me. He’s like,”Why don’t you just see what they have to say?” Not reading the fact that the mere idea of going off the Suboxone puts me in panic attack mode.

I miss “real” opiates.  I do! But I do not miss the  life destroying monster they release in me.

Top 5 things pissing me off right now..

1. I am in very real severe debilitating pain all the time and due to my equally real opiate addiction I cannot find a realistic way to take the only meds that have ever offered any measure of relief.
2. Husband is neither understanding nor empathetic of my distress.

3. The real long term solutions to my biggest mobility issues involve multiple surgeries with multistage processes to even GET to operating day.. never mind the major risks involved and the long recovery times. But every day that goes by without these I am less and less able-bodied.

4. Husband has a HUGE double standard for the way we treat his side of the family and the way we treat mine.

5. I am tired and sore and we are driving home to Massachusetts tomorrow from Virginia.