(Heroin / 50cc) - Novice - From A Point To Hell

[xburtonchic]

BACKGROUND INFO​

Stats: Female, 23, 100lbs, 5'2

Experience level: I've tried most drugs, I guess. In my teenage years I considered myself a tiny little psychonaut, and tried basically everything that came my way: salvia, shrooms, crystal, weed, alcohol, E, cocaine, DXM. I didn't fully discover the recreational value of pharms until I was an adult. Benzo's have always been good to me, but opiates grabbed me by the throat and dragged me down. I've been battling opiate addiction for, I guess, 3 years now? It started with pills, then Suboxone maintenance, then finally as my Sub maintenance hit the lowest dose possible, the Grandfather of All Opiates itself... heroin. With H in particular, around here, there's only tar. I'd consider myself a beginner since I've only done it a handful of times, but since I catch on quickly - meaning I can cook it, prep the points, find a vein, pull back, and plunge myself - and the fact that I've already been through what most people are lucky enough to avoid, I'm upgrading my status to Novice.
Like I said, I'd only tried H a few times up til now - three times smoking (which doesn't work for me) and a small handful of IV. All good experiences - great, even - up until where this report comes in.

THE EXPERIENCE​

Setting: At my friend and his fiancee's apartment, we'll call them A & S, respectively. Always a comfortable environment to be in, despite the short power outage. I've always said it doesn't matter where you are in these instances, as long as you are among friends who you trust. Which I do. So setting seems less important than mindset. My mindset was that I was excited to start cooking for my first time and then get the dope in our veins. I was relaxed, in a mellow mood, all was right in the world in that moment.

The Experience: A friend had purchased a 40 of dope earlier that day before realizing he had to go to work, so he handed it off to me since he still owed me money. He told me it would be enough for three people to have 3-4 good sized shots. After dropping him off at work, I headed over to A & S's place, where I started cooking the dope using a Macgyver'ed soda can. This was my first time doing everything on my own, so I was pretty proud when everything came out great. The point was loaded to about 30cc to get a small taste for it, and then came the tricky part - finding, hitting, and plunging my own vein. This proved to be a difficult task for me since my hands are where I prefer to be hit, and I was working with only one hand... and my hands are small. It would have been much easier to have usage of both hands, but I was layered in winter clothing and didn't feel like hunting for a body part where I could use both hands. After a few false starts, I finally got a small shot in. (First one all by myself! I was proud) After that, though, I turned the reins over to S. We both took another medium-sized shot (around 50cc), and all was well. After an hour or so, we started to figure out that this was really weak dope, and figured it was okay to move on to filling the entire syringe.

While S was prepping the point for my shot, I started hunting around for a good vein on my hand. I found one a few centimeters from the crease of my thumb and forefinger. It was showing up quite nicely from all the exercises I'd been doing with my hands throughout the night, so I was ready. S located the vein and seemed to have found it, because blood came out when she pulled back. Then we lost the vein somehow, and she moved to another one farther down. This time when she pulled back, there was a spurt of blood as well as a very frothy, very pink substance in the syringe. This is where I promote myself back to Beginner - I should have told her to pull out right there and then. In the back of my mind, I knew something was off about this, but I figured it was normal and that sometimes that just happens. Even so, I told her to go slowly when she was ready to plunge. So she started to plunge... and what happened next was entirely unexpected.

About 40-50cc in, I KNEW something was wrong. All of the blood in my body was on fire, lit with an injection of drano and lighter fluid, and rushing into my hand. I said "Oh my GOD" in some weird animal/human word/noise sound. I have been through a lot of physical pain, but in that instant, I would take a million severe beatings and relive another hundred years of boot camp and military life, just PLEASE make the burning fucking stop! S stopped for a second and asked, "Does it hurt?" I managed to get out, "YES this isn't normal take it out!!!" And so she did. I didn't know it yet, but 50cc of heroin were now flowing through the arteries in my hand. All I knew was that my hand was on fire, and so I stood up to try and use the computer, and that's when I felt the dope in the back of my mouth, and that's when I was hit with the most INTENSE feeling I have ever seen or experienced.

My BP suddenly shot up sky high. I could HEAR and FEEL my heart pounding in my head. How did my heart get into my head? My chest was too tight, it didn't exist anymore, my heart must have been pushed up into my brain. A million racing thoughts about this and other things. I was going to die, was I going to die, what the hell was in this dope, what's happening to me, why didn't this happen earlier, we had been doing this all night?!?! I couldn't believe how fast my heart was beating, I told my friends, "Feel my pulse!" They didn't do anything, just stared at me. I was getting aggravated and irritable with everyone in the world on top of everything else going on. "FEEL my PULSE!" And so S did, and drew back with wide eyes and said, "Oh my God." Which didn't serve to do anything but further increase my panic. Suddenly I couldn't stand anymore, I was too dizzy and nauseous, I had to sit down. I was irritated with everything and everyone. My friends were panicking, asking me if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I brushed that idea off immediately. No one could figure out what had happened. I was lost in my own body. My burning hand was suddenly the lesser problem. The only thing that existed was my body and the pain I felt, no one, nothing else mattered. Finally, A figured out what was going on - I was having a severe panic attack. They managed to convince me of this, and made me take a few benzo's. While waiting for the benzo's to kick in, I was convinced that all I really needed was fresh air and said I was going to go smoke. One step up and out the door and I collapsed in their hallway. I couldn't make it to the stairs. I pleaded with A to PLEASE let me have a cigarette on his balcony - I really needed a cigarette and fresh air. He reluctantly agreed, but agree he did. (That's how you know when you have great friends by the way... because they take care of you.) I put A on Google Duty while S and I went to the balcony.

Out there, with a cigarette to calm me down and the fresh air, I started to feel a bit better. Or maybe it was the benzo's finally kicking in. My heart was back in my chest where it belonged anyway. I no longer felt that I was about to die. Still, no one could figure out what was going on, so I called my friend B, who is an expert on tar. He informed me that I hit an artery, including a few tasteful words about the dope I'd wasted, and a few colorful words about how the people I was with have no idea what they're doing and that I was stupid to let them and that's why I'm in this position and etc. I wrote off that last part - obviously, it was not anyone's fault. These things can happen to anyone, especially in the hand, where veins and arteries are so close together and it's so easy to hit one. If anything, it was my fault for not pulling out the second I saw that frothy substance in there, which I had a feeling wasn't right - I later learned that's one of the biggest ways to identify that you're in an artery instead of a vein. I felt a little better knowing what had happened. I was glad anyway, that it was because of a miscalculated place of the point, not bad dope.

By now, my panic attack was long gone, though I was still a bit shaky from what had happened. The worst was yet to come, though. My panic attack had subsided, but in it's place was what used to be my hand. Instead of my hand, there was a swollen, painful, fiery, splotchy balloon. It swelled. And it swelled. And it swelled some more, getting more and more painful by the minute. We knew what it was, so A started to Google everything he could find about hitting an artery. How to tell you're in an artery (spurts of blood instead of a steady flow, a pink frothy substance), symptoms of arterial injection (all of which we knew, since I had them), what could happen if it goes untreated (blood loss, gangrene, losing a limb, etc... nothing fun.) I'm vain enough that I would rather die than lose a limb, but I still refused to go to the hospital.

Instead, we researched what to do. We found various methods and used them all at once (lie down, keep affected limb elevated, drink water, ice the affected area). Soon, the swelling reached it's end and stopped altogether. It wasn't getting better, but it wasn't getting any worse. Around this time, the dope hit my blood-brain barrier and I started to feel a little bit rushy. Great. That was the last thing I wanted. Under any other circumstances, I might enjoy this, but now it only served to make me nauseous and swear off dope forever. There was still a lot of dope left, and I didn't want that shit anywhere near me. I told my friends they could have it in exchange for some benzo's, or even without the benzo's... regardless, I didn't want it and I was giving it to them, exchange for benzo's or not. They gave me the benzo's anyway, which was kind of them.

After a few hours, the pain and swelling gradually started going down. VERY gradually. It took three days for the swelling to go away entirely, and a full 24 hours for the excruciating pain to cease. For the next two days, it was just an uncomfortably tight feeling in my pointer finger (that was the finger most affected for some reason), and the pain had ebbed into a constant pulsing sensation... which wasn't very settling either. On day three, I woke up to find the swelling and remainders of pain and sensations very faint, and the symptoms were gone entirely by the end of the day. I was lucky. I AM lucky. To still be here. Intact, with all ten of my fingers and both of my hands.... and a desire to never do anything to induce that sort of intense panic attack ever again. God knows what my blood pressure was or what my BPM was, but I know if I'd had a machine around me, both would have been frighteningly high. My theory is that S DID hit a vein, but in the process, the needle had slipped into an artery... either right below or right next to the vein she was trying to use. I don't blame anyone for what happened, no matter how horrible it was.

LESSONS LEARNED​

I'd like to say I had some glowing, life-changing revelations due to this, but I have not. Yes, I said I would never do dope again, but armed with the knowledge of where all veins and arteries exist in the body, I know I'll probably be privy to doing it again one day. I did learn a few valuable things, however, which I'd like to share. Hopefully this will help others be more aware when they are shooting up.

The first thing I learned is... well, a ton of information about arteries and arterial injections. If you're still reading this, please take note of what's going into your syringe the next time you pull back the plunger to see if you've got a hit. Blood does not always = vein. If you notice any of these things in your syringe: spurts of blood instead of a steady stream, bright red blood, and/or (most noticeable) a pink frothy substance, pull it out IMMEDIATELY. You're in an artery. Don't be tempted to take the plunge just to "see what it feels like". Trust me, you don't want to know. And like I said, I was lucky. I could very well have had to get a finger or even my whole hand amputated or gone into shock. It's not worth it just because you want to experiment. I don't know what would happen if you were to inject the stuff back into another vein. Maybe it's bad for arterial blood to reach your heart, I don't know. Either way, do your research or don't take the plunge at all - it's best to be wasteful but alive and intact. Only inject if the blood being pulled back into the syringe is coming out in a stream and is a dark red, almost black-ish color.

If by some fluke, you inject anyways and it is into an artery, you'll know it by the almost immediate burning sensation in your hand. It will be a pain like no other, and you will KNOW it's not normal. It's almost second nature to pull the needle out at this point, but just in case it's not second nature for you, pull it out anyway. The less that goes into your arteries means the less damage to you'll have to your limbs. Soon after, the limb affected will get splotchy and red while it slowly starts swelling and getting more painful until (if) it reaches it's peak. Give it an hour. After an hour or so if it's still swelling, the pain is increasingly unbearable, or your hand starts to turn colors like blue or purple, that means the oxygen to that limb is being cut off and you need medical professional help. Otherwise, the tissue will start to die, lead to gangrene, and you'll find yourself missing a hand or a finger or a leg. It can also lead to blood poisoning, which is even worse. In the meantime, while you wait, there are a few things you can do to decrease the amount of damage: lie back, take an anti-histamine to try and reduce the swelling, keep the limb elevated, massage it to promote blood circulation, ice it, and try to move it around (also to promote blood circulation as well as to prevent the drug from localizing in one spot, much like it did with my pointer finger.)

My best advice: DO NOT PANIC. That made things so much worse for me. If you do have a panic attack however (I realize they can be uncontrollable), take a benzo or two if they're available. If they're not, then just sit down, head between your legs, and do deep breathing exercises until the worst of the pounding and dizziness passes. When you are able to walk again, try listening to soothing music, eat something, drink water, do anything you can think of that's calming for you. And last but not least, make sure you never take drugs via IV alone... do it with a trusted friend.

As for what I learned personally, I learned who two of my true friends were that night. They stuck by me every step of the way, didn't kick me out of their apartment when the panic attack hit and I started freaking out, S massaged my hand for me, they were kind enough to let me use their balcony so I wouldn't have to attempt to walk downstairs... or even down the hall for that matter. They researched, they provided me with everything I needed to help (benzo's, ice, a pillow to lie down, etc.) They offered to take me to the hospital, despite the fact that illegal drugs were involved and they could get in trouble. They checked on me constantly, made sure I was okay, that I was comfortable, etc. That's a true friend right there. If there was only one thing I could get out of this whole experience, it would be that - learning A and S are trustworthy and loyal friends who genuinely care about me. True friends are priceless, they are invaluable, and they are very hard to come by... through this experience, I am grateful to have them. It's people like that who will be there for you every step of the way if things go downhill, knock on wood. Most friends will panic, flee the scene, and not look back when something goes wrong. True friends will stay calm, offer to take you to the hospital themselves, and do whatever else they can to help. Moral of that story? If you're ever going to do drugs like psychedelics or via IV or ones that can bring on psychosis, do so with people like A and S by your side.