rave23
Bluelighter
Hello Folks,
i would like to share my rather interesting experience of kicking my opiate habbit.
Here is what we started out with: 2 - 3 shots worth of smack a day with various opiates like Oxycodone, Codeine and Hydrocodone supplemented. Sometimes weeks full of methadone due to financial issues. That went on for 1 1/2 years solid, and before that it was like an on and off with opiates. The ammount of drugs taked fluctuated a lot, but there was not a single day that i went without taking anything.
I decided it needs to stop. I tried to kick it myself numerous times, but after the 2nd day i always relapsed. I needed help badly. I was not a trainwreck or anything, no, i was a pretty decent male human being at the peak of his life. I decided i did not need drugs, and they were really starting to bother me.
Anyway, my clinic offered the "Rapid detox method" for $1500 and a 5 day stay in the hospital. I thought let's give it a shot, i have nothing to loose anyway.
I checked in at the clinic on the March 31th, my last goodbye shot of smack being 12 hours away. I signed a lot of papers and consent forms, and had a talk with the "Team" that would perform the procedure. We tediously discussed my usage and for how long it was going on, and how bad withdrawals were. They never were overly intensley physical, but me being a pussy, i couldn't handle it. I was given a small dose of Fentanyl subcutaneously aka. "Skin popping". Why they did that, i don't know. Probably to "synchronise me" with the programm. I was in slight withdrawal at that point, and it eased the withdrawal pain immediatley. I thought that was fucking paradox.
They then proceded to get me comfy on a bed, and hooked me up to a gazillion machines, measuring every vital function that could possibly be measured.
When the nurse proceded to get the injections ready i felt really fucking nervous, thinking about the agony i was about to go throug. After all, the plan was to heavily sedate me, and then pump some Naltrexone (? might have been Naloxone?) in my system, to get the worst part over with. Goal was it to keep me sedated and unconscious for the next 6-8 hours.
What then followed is a blur, and i had to lie to tell you details.
All i remember was a shot of Midazolam going down my IV, then imediatley a 2nd shot of unknown substance and three drips started dripping. I felt the Midazolam kicking in probably 30 seconds later, and all i remember was feeling at ease. Like anything would have fucking mattered at that point. One nurse said "close your eyes and go with it"... Well... i closed my eyes.
Next thing i know is i am lying in bed, wet and shaking. Short in breath. 2 Nurses in the room. i loose consciousness again.
I finally regained consciousnes some unknown hours later, still being heavily sedated by an unknown drug. Probably some benzodiazepine by the feeling of it. What i felt is hard to describe. Pain is the right word. It felt like every fucking bone in my body was radiating with sheer agony. But then again, the ammount of discomfort was not what i expected. i seemed to be under heavy sedation. i remember every time i moved my head the images kinda seemed to flang, like when you're playing Games with an old Video Card.
Again, it went dark. I woke up on the eveing of March 31th/April 1st. I was breathing oxygen and my hands were tied to the bed. I felt like i just went into withdrawal, that familiar body ache, the runny nose, the teary eyes, the yawning. But behold. It actually felt somewhat uplifting. A nurse came in to check on me, asked me how i was feeling. I thought that was a bad joke. I wanted to die, right there and then. They untied my hands, and explained that was nescesarry since i was heavily sedated and i could start to do stupid stuff like ripping my IV's out. I was conscious once again. And i did not feel good.
I got lots of clonidine to keep my BP down (175 over 80...), and some unknown Benzodiazepine to keep me at ease. I still asume it has to be one of the water soluble benzos, because all the drugs except the clonidine were administred via IV.
April 1st.
The last days went by in a blur, and i really don't recall a lot of it. Most stuff i told is what the Nurses told me after. I was transfered into a normal room, and pretty much continued to sleep for the entire day. I felt exhausted.
April 2nd.
Well... I felt a lot of body aches and hot/cold flashs, just like at the begining of withdrawal. I feared that it might have not been worked, and i considered running away and cook up. I told the nurse, and they send in the doc. He said the procedure went by without major complications, i was sucessfully uncoscious the whole time. he told me that it was really not that pretty and not worth the experience anyway. I had a chuckle.
wait. Did i notice a slight sense of humor? Am i really not feeling that bad after all? I continued to take my Clonidine and got asked if i require more sedation. The doctor told me that i have been throught the roughest phase already, and that it will only get better from now on. He said he feels comfortable with adminestering me Midazolam for another day. I greatly appreciated his offer, and spend the next day convulsing in bed, staring at the ceiling and wiping off the sweat of my forehead. I do not want to downplay the ammount of discomfort i experienced, it was pretty much like kicking it CT, just in a controlled environmet, and understanding docs who were willing to give you more drugs to get you over it.
That day went by so fast. God bless the midazolam. I would not say it made anything better, but it made time fucking fly and blanked my memorie where the worst experiences would have been.
April 3rd.
I felt better. I woke up, feeling overly tired, weak and shaky, but the aches were reduced by... maybe 50%. I felt like i was gonna be better. The doctor explained to me that he has to stop giving me drugs, so i don't run in another dependency issue. I continued to take Clonidine however. Did i mention i felt somewhat hungry? Yes, that was flipping amazing. I got food, and actually enjoyed eating. and this was day 4 after being "cleaned out". Severe nausea followed that was counteracted with Maxeran. I kept some Jello and Beef Broth down, and felt like i got some energy back. They stopped giving me benzodiazepines alltogether.
At this point i felt like i was able to manage it. The aches were subsiding, i still had severe problems finding a pose that i was comfy in. That was a small tradeoff however. I also found it remarkable that i had only slight cravings for smack. I thought it would be way worse. I think that is because i was ready to kick it, i hated that stuff with every fiber of my being.
Seroquel knocked me the fuck out for 12 hours, and i slept the rest of the day.
April 4th.
Woke up feeling might groggy. But that was it. Weak, strung out, but something came back to me. I felt something i haven't felt in 1 1/2 years. Knowing the fact my last shot of smack was over 5 days away now, and i am over the hill.
I got discharged, called myself a cab and went home with:
*1 referal to Psychotherapy / group counselling THAT I ABSOLOUTLEY MUST ATEND IN ORDER TO STAY CLEAN
* 1 2 month supply of 150µg Clonidine
* 1 month supply of Maxeran
* 1 1 month supplly of 1mg Xanax
* 1 7 day supply of Dormicum
Here is what they explained to me: Clonidine should be taken daily for a month, and then stopped and only taken on a "as needed" base. Alprazolam on a "as needed" base, they told me that panic attacs are likely and they greatly increase the chance of relapse, and to keep the restlessnes at ease. They figured that because of all the feedback they got with previous patients. They learn, they seem to be pretty cool. Maxeran for nausea before meals. Dormicum for 7 days at bedtime, to give me a chance of a decent night sleep, and to increase chances of recovery, sleep will be an issue. Also, they told me a gazillion times to NOT MIX IT WITH THE XANAX. Bedtime only. I was told to stay home for the next coupple of days, drink plenty of fluids and take it easy on the eating. I figure i photocopy that script and frame it, since i never had that many perscriptions on one piece of paper at once. The pharmacist sure gave me an odd look, but figured out what was going on fast.
Well, it's almost midnight and i am home now. I still sweat some, and my heart is pounding, and i still shiver a bit, but nothing i can't take. I feel greatly relieved because all the bone/muscle pain is maybe down to 5% of what it used to be. I still have restless legs from hell, and i am planing to take my Dormicum soon to go to sleep. Otherwise i am sure a Xanax would help.
I feel like the detox took the major part of the physical withdrawal. Now it's up to me to make the mental changes and stay clean. This was only the sucessfull beginning of the hard part. I am glad my habbit was not overly intense to begin with. I am actually in some sort of euphoria, knowing that i just made the first sucessfull step in kicking it. I look forward to the counselling / therapy, and plan on attending as often as i can.
My thoughts on the clinic/hospital: I know they did not offer it as an "official" service, i had a friend of a friend refer me to a doctor at the clinic who was willing to do the procedure.
He seemed straight forward about, not judgemental the slightest bit, and willing to support me as much as he's allowed to. I found it pretty risky that they discharged me that fast, but after all, what am i gonna do in the hospital? stare at the wall? I might as well just go home. I get a daily phonecall for about a week to "report in" so to speak. This is not an official thing, more a favour that the doc is doing to me since i was refered by a medical friend that i happen to know. He never gave the "junkie scum" look that i expected, and he and the staff treated me with lots of respect. They actually did a scan of my lung to check for fibrosis (?), but it seems like it's all fine and dandy, and my lung is not clogged up.
I think the ammount of complications depend on how serious your habbit is. He adressed all my concerns, and tried to keep me comfortable. I really appreciate the great service, remembering that this was a rather "unoficial" thing. It's possible in canada :D ...
At home i faced another mental challenge. Beside my bed, on the table, i found my works. Needles, cookers, empty bags. Of course that send a tingle down my spine, but i threw that and all the other shit out, along with everything that has to do with my junkie days. I WANT to kick this shit, and i have to stay strong.
Now i have to face reality in a state of full consciousness![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
I might have to say good-bye to bluelight for a while, depending on how much i associate it with my cravings and habbits.
Any comments and questions are greatly appreciated
Rave23
substancecode_opiates
i would like to share my rather interesting experience of kicking my opiate habbit.
Here is what we started out with: 2 - 3 shots worth of smack a day with various opiates like Oxycodone, Codeine and Hydrocodone supplemented. Sometimes weeks full of methadone due to financial issues. That went on for 1 1/2 years solid, and before that it was like an on and off with opiates. The ammount of drugs taked fluctuated a lot, but there was not a single day that i went without taking anything.
I decided it needs to stop. I tried to kick it myself numerous times, but after the 2nd day i always relapsed. I needed help badly. I was not a trainwreck or anything, no, i was a pretty decent male human being at the peak of his life. I decided i did not need drugs, and they were really starting to bother me.
Anyway, my clinic offered the "Rapid detox method" for $1500 and a 5 day stay in the hospital. I thought let's give it a shot, i have nothing to loose anyway.
I checked in at the clinic on the March 31th, my last goodbye shot of smack being 12 hours away. I signed a lot of papers and consent forms, and had a talk with the "Team" that would perform the procedure. We tediously discussed my usage and for how long it was going on, and how bad withdrawals were. They never were overly intensley physical, but me being a pussy, i couldn't handle it. I was given a small dose of Fentanyl subcutaneously aka. "Skin popping". Why they did that, i don't know. Probably to "synchronise me" with the programm. I was in slight withdrawal at that point, and it eased the withdrawal pain immediatley. I thought that was fucking paradox.
They then proceded to get me comfy on a bed, and hooked me up to a gazillion machines, measuring every vital function that could possibly be measured.
When the nurse proceded to get the injections ready i felt really fucking nervous, thinking about the agony i was about to go throug. After all, the plan was to heavily sedate me, and then pump some Naltrexone (? might have been Naloxone?) in my system, to get the worst part over with. Goal was it to keep me sedated and unconscious for the next 6-8 hours.
What then followed is a blur, and i had to lie to tell you details.
All i remember was a shot of Midazolam going down my IV, then imediatley a 2nd shot of unknown substance and three drips started dripping. I felt the Midazolam kicking in probably 30 seconds later, and all i remember was feeling at ease. Like anything would have fucking mattered at that point. One nurse said "close your eyes and go with it"... Well... i closed my eyes.
Next thing i know is i am lying in bed, wet and shaking. Short in breath. 2 Nurses in the room. i loose consciousness again.
I finally regained consciousnes some unknown hours later, still being heavily sedated by an unknown drug. Probably some benzodiazepine by the feeling of it. What i felt is hard to describe. Pain is the right word. It felt like every fucking bone in my body was radiating with sheer agony. But then again, the ammount of discomfort was not what i expected. i seemed to be under heavy sedation. i remember every time i moved my head the images kinda seemed to flang, like when you're playing Games with an old Video Card.
Again, it went dark. I woke up on the eveing of March 31th/April 1st. I was breathing oxygen and my hands were tied to the bed. I felt like i just went into withdrawal, that familiar body ache, the runny nose, the teary eyes, the yawning. But behold. It actually felt somewhat uplifting. A nurse came in to check on me, asked me how i was feeling. I thought that was a bad joke. I wanted to die, right there and then. They untied my hands, and explained that was nescesarry since i was heavily sedated and i could start to do stupid stuff like ripping my IV's out. I was conscious once again. And i did not feel good.
I got lots of clonidine to keep my BP down (175 over 80...), and some unknown Benzodiazepine to keep me at ease. I still asume it has to be one of the water soluble benzos, because all the drugs except the clonidine were administred via IV.
April 1st.
The last days went by in a blur, and i really don't recall a lot of it. Most stuff i told is what the Nurses told me after. I was transfered into a normal room, and pretty much continued to sleep for the entire day. I felt exhausted.
April 2nd.
Well... I felt a lot of body aches and hot/cold flashs, just like at the begining of withdrawal. I feared that it might have not been worked, and i considered running away and cook up. I told the nurse, and they send in the doc. He said the procedure went by without major complications, i was sucessfully uncoscious the whole time. he told me that it was really not that pretty and not worth the experience anyway. I had a chuckle.
wait. Did i notice a slight sense of humor? Am i really not feeling that bad after all? I continued to take my Clonidine and got asked if i require more sedation. The doctor told me that i have been throught the roughest phase already, and that it will only get better from now on. He said he feels comfortable with adminestering me Midazolam for another day. I greatly appreciated his offer, and spend the next day convulsing in bed, staring at the ceiling and wiping off the sweat of my forehead. I do not want to downplay the ammount of discomfort i experienced, it was pretty much like kicking it CT, just in a controlled environmet, and understanding docs who were willing to give you more drugs to get you over it.
That day went by so fast. God bless the midazolam. I would not say it made anything better, but it made time fucking fly and blanked my memorie where the worst experiences would have been.
April 3rd.
I felt better. I woke up, feeling overly tired, weak and shaky, but the aches were reduced by... maybe 50%. I felt like i was gonna be better. The doctor explained to me that he has to stop giving me drugs, so i don't run in another dependency issue. I continued to take Clonidine however. Did i mention i felt somewhat hungry? Yes, that was flipping amazing. I got food, and actually enjoyed eating. and this was day 4 after being "cleaned out". Severe nausea followed that was counteracted with Maxeran. I kept some Jello and Beef Broth down, and felt like i got some energy back. They stopped giving me benzodiazepines alltogether.
At this point i felt like i was able to manage it. The aches were subsiding, i still had severe problems finding a pose that i was comfy in. That was a small tradeoff however. I also found it remarkable that i had only slight cravings for smack. I thought it would be way worse. I think that is because i was ready to kick it, i hated that stuff with every fiber of my being.
Seroquel knocked me the fuck out for 12 hours, and i slept the rest of the day.
April 4th.
Woke up feeling might groggy. But that was it. Weak, strung out, but something came back to me. I felt something i haven't felt in 1 1/2 years. Knowing the fact my last shot of smack was over 5 days away now, and i am over the hill.
I got discharged, called myself a cab and went home with:
*1 referal to Psychotherapy / group counselling THAT I ABSOLOUTLEY MUST ATEND IN ORDER TO STAY CLEAN
* 1 2 month supply of 150µg Clonidine
* 1 month supply of Maxeran
* 1 1 month supplly of 1mg Xanax
* 1 7 day supply of Dormicum
Here is what they explained to me: Clonidine should be taken daily for a month, and then stopped and only taken on a "as needed" base. Alprazolam on a "as needed" base, they told me that panic attacs are likely and they greatly increase the chance of relapse, and to keep the restlessnes at ease. They figured that because of all the feedback they got with previous patients. They learn, they seem to be pretty cool. Maxeran for nausea before meals. Dormicum for 7 days at bedtime, to give me a chance of a decent night sleep, and to increase chances of recovery, sleep will be an issue. Also, they told me a gazillion times to NOT MIX IT WITH THE XANAX. Bedtime only. I was told to stay home for the next coupple of days, drink plenty of fluids and take it easy on the eating. I figure i photocopy that script and frame it, since i never had that many perscriptions on one piece of paper at once. The pharmacist sure gave me an odd look, but figured out what was going on fast.
Well, it's almost midnight and i am home now. I still sweat some, and my heart is pounding, and i still shiver a bit, but nothing i can't take. I feel greatly relieved because all the bone/muscle pain is maybe down to 5% of what it used to be. I still have restless legs from hell, and i am planing to take my Dormicum soon to go to sleep. Otherwise i am sure a Xanax would help.
I feel like the detox took the major part of the physical withdrawal. Now it's up to me to make the mental changes and stay clean. This was only the sucessfull beginning of the hard part. I am glad my habbit was not overly intense to begin with. I am actually in some sort of euphoria, knowing that i just made the first sucessfull step in kicking it. I look forward to the counselling / therapy, and plan on attending as often as i can.
My thoughts on the clinic/hospital: I know they did not offer it as an "official" service, i had a friend of a friend refer me to a doctor at the clinic who was willing to do the procedure.
He seemed straight forward about, not judgemental the slightest bit, and willing to support me as much as he's allowed to. I found it pretty risky that they discharged me that fast, but after all, what am i gonna do in the hospital? stare at the wall? I might as well just go home. I get a daily phonecall for about a week to "report in" so to speak. This is not an official thing, more a favour that the doc is doing to me since i was refered by a medical friend that i happen to know. He never gave the "junkie scum" look that i expected, and he and the staff treated me with lots of respect. They actually did a scan of my lung to check for fibrosis (?), but it seems like it's all fine and dandy, and my lung is not clogged up.
I think the ammount of complications depend on how serious your habbit is. He adressed all my concerns, and tried to keep me comfortable. I really appreciate the great service, remembering that this was a rather "unoficial" thing. It's possible in canada :D ...
At home i faced another mental challenge. Beside my bed, on the table, i found my works. Needles, cookers, empty bags. Of course that send a tingle down my spine, but i threw that and all the other shit out, along with everything that has to do with my junkie days. I WANT to kick this shit, and i have to stay strong.
Now i have to face reality in a state of full consciousness
I might have to say good-bye to bluelight for a while, depending on how much i associate it with my cravings and habbits.Any comments and questions are greatly appreciated
Rave23
substancecode_opiates
Last edited by a moderator:
yesterday i got weak and took half an Oxy 80. Nice high, but i got so fucking scared about how weak my willpower is. My GF already beat the crap out of me and i am gratefull she's supporting me that way.
Oh well... it's not like kicking cigs is a monumental task after this has been accomplished. A little bit of weed here and there keeps me sane, and actually helps. I automatically reach for the jay every time i obsess about relapsing (like... worst is in the morning and before bed), and it just flushes my mind in a nice way. The ammount of relief is linear to the ammount of weed smoked, so i feel like i have some kind of cushion if it gets too bad. I know it's all a mental thing now, and something mildy mind altering like pot is just the thing that's perfect in order to relief that kind of tension. Keeping yourself bussy, away from the scene (i basically have zero friends now...), and some weed at hand, a GF around and a job, and you're set.