I have to give you this. From my autobiography "Fiasco! The Autobiography of Michael J. Gayda." It's from the 80"s. I found a doctor named Luis Ramirez from Bridgeport, Connecticut.
Here’s What I Got.
Dilaudid 4 mg, #30, q 8-12 h PRN pain
Tylenol #4, #30, q 6 h PRN PAIN
Hycodan 180 ml, tsp. q 6 h for COUGH
Valium 10 mg, #30, BID muscle spasm
He forgot to add my refill to the Hycodan but did not write zero. I decided to help him out and added one refill to the Hycodan, one to the codeine and one to the Valium. Now, this was a good score.
Lordy, Filling the Script.
One of the drug stores I tried told me, “You’ll have an easier time getting a gun permit than getting that prescription for Dilaudid filled.” Dejected, I climbed back on my bike and eventually pulled up to Green’s Pharmacy in Stratford, Connecticut.
The pharmacist’s name was Peter Green just like in Fleetwood Mac. I kept up the fake limp and banter and was using the cane. I hoped that Peter wouldn’t see my bike parked behind his pharmacy. Hiding it all the time was getting to be a real pain in the ass. I had the codeine script on me but it pales in comparison with the big DL. I sure wouldn’t try to fill ‘em both at the same time.
Surprisingly, the pharmacist did have some Dilaudid on hand, but said to me, “Mr. Gayda. I can only give you 16 Dilaudid tablets for now because I am out, but you or one of your family can come here the day after tomorrow and pick up the other 14 pills.”
I was thinking, “Great. This sounds legit to me so I will take the chance. At least I’ll definitely get high; 16 pills should do it.” I wouldn’t send anyone in my family to pick up narcotics like these. I will be there!
I had a great time with Louie. Here is the next encounter:
Is the Pharmacist a Junkie, Too?
Going to Green’s Pharmacy in Stratford became a regular occurrence. I used my mother’s address in the next town over, Bridgeport, to avoid suspicion. I was still living in New Britain, Connecticut, 55 miles away, with my wife. Now, Peter kept a supply of Dilaudid on hand for me. This one day, however, something weird happened.
I had my car but parked it out of sight and limped into the store. In those days, the cash price for thirty, 4 mg Dilaudid was about $20.00, for the brand name product from Knoll Pharmaceutical.
Peter filled the script quickly while I was at the vitamin counter. I paid him $20, grabbed the small bag, and left. In the parking lot, I ripped open the bag to inspect the contents and couldn’t believe my eyes. The little pills were white! “What the fuck is this?” I remember thinking as I pulled out my glasses to look more closely.
“Goddamn, I can’t believe this!” This fucker gave me thirty, 50 mg Demerol instead! Whoa, with something like Dilaudid, this was no mistake. I walked, more quickly this time (ha, ha), back into the pharmacy.
Other people were also filling prescriptions as I said to Mr. Green, “Sir, I think there must be a problem here. These pills are white, not yellow like the others. What’s up?”
He opened the bottle and said, “Oh, sorry, Mr. Gayda. I gave you the generic product this time to save you some money. Give me a second and I will switch these for the usual ones.”
My wife hated this guy. Ah, hell, I loved him!
