Oh, I have a good one.
I overindulged in 3-MeO-PCP. I was using it heavily, multiple times a day, large-ish doses (10mg - 50mg) plugged and one night sat down to smoke a bowl and do some. Next thing my mind goes blank. it caused a fugue state where I ended up wandering my house like a zombie, unable to communicate and "with no life behind my eyes" - freaking the fuck out of my poor mother. I was running into furniture and making strange guttural sounds. Eventually I passed out and thanks to the massive amount of dissociative anesthetic I was on, had a GCS of 3 - which usually indicates absence of brain activity, i.e. Very Bad. EMS took me to the local hospital. The doctors were concerned I may have had a stroke or aneurysm (no response) and ordered emergency CT. I think by the time they found PCP in a blood/urine test they freaked out and put me in restraints. My memory kicks back in as I'm laying in an ICU bed, with a catheter up my dick, restrained by hands and legs, and full of IV's. Needless to say I was an absolute wreck - it's confusing enough to wake up in restraints, but when the staff are treating you like a fucking child and seemingly demonstrate no empathy, it makes everything worse. Struggling against the restraints and crying out won me a prize of a nice big bolus of haloepridol. By the time they finally released me from my restraints, the Haldol was coming on and I started to stagger. Two security ogres dumped me in an isolation room where I passed out. When I woke up I found myself wholly unable to move. I needed to be carted around in a wheelchair and could barely make a thumbs-up gesture, Let alone talk. Took a good couple days to clear that shit out.
Thus began a 2 week stay in the inpatient psychiatric unit. I also managed to damage my muscles pretty badly in the stuggle against the restraints - nothing like a nice case of rhabdomyolysis to keep you in the hospital. Met some interesting folks there (quiet, unassuming asian kid who was there for attempting to torch his family's residence - he got as far as poring gasoline everywhere before he was caught. Or the guy who insisted Bill Gates gave him his coat outside a Safeway. Or the nice Chinese jewelry designer who was simply there because her parents were abusive fucks. Or the guy who led cops on a midnight chase, buck-naked and frying on meth, through bramble bushes and rough woodlands. A real cast of chcarcters.), and the doctors were almost uniformly secretly interested in PCP.... it's not common at all any more.
Then when I came out, all my perosnal posessions had been thrown out, save for clothing, my PC, books, etc - my mother, whom I lived with at the time, decided to go through all my shit and discard any drug-related anything. I lost a copy of PiHKAL, TiHKAL, and the Shulgin Index. And also got the indignity of preumably having my limited collection of paper-based pr0n discovered (and discarded). My parents were duly unimpressed, my girlfriend left me as soon as I got out the psych ward (nice timing...) and to this day my mother refuses to sleep in the same building as me.
The irony is, my 3-MeO-PCP stash was stored in a suit-jacket coat pocket. It was still there when I got back. I would be lying if I said I didn't do more to celebrate....
Losing the love of my life cause i jumped out of a 3story window
I once was bedded in the hospital beside some poor moron who apparently got pissed drunk and jumped off a balcony while fleeing police. Broke both his ankles, kept going for a bit, leaving his feet thoroughly fucked. (different hospital stay than above). I guess they wouldn't give him any narcotics because he was drunk as fuck, and to be fair, he was mostly asking for alcohol, which they would portion out one shot every few hours. The real kicker is, I guess he had recently broken his ankles pulling a similar stunt, and they had barely healed by the time he decided to do it all over. The doctor didn't seem to want to split them again.
