Drugs And Booze

I was awake most of last night with toothache. Ouch.

So I thought what drug should I take to stop the pain.

Well, the choice was a rich one!

When I left hospital in November, I carried away with me a large bag of drugs – anti-seizure tablets were the most important but there was also a generous array of painkillers with morphine as the star attraction.

I fondly remember the day, coming out of semi-unconsciousness as I recovered from my brain haemorrhage, the day when I was offered my first conscious drink of liquid morphine. It was a moment of forbidden delight.

No matter how traumatised, confused or pain-filled I was, this little drink filled me with joy.

My haemorrhage and subsequent brain seizures left me with a fractured spine and with most of my torso muscles torn, so painkillers were pretty helpful anyway but I was still aware that a possibly dangerous new friend had entered my life.

When I was home, I realized that this bundle of drugs, along with a muscle relaxant called diazepam, were among the coolest drugs on the street.

How nice, I thought in my foolishness, to have prescription drugs that had such street-cred.

Against doctor’s orders, I gradually eased myself off the morphine and diazepam knowing full well that an addiction was on its way and I was just enjoying those heady days of pleasure before every addiction turns into a problem.

Even though I had only been on them for just over a month, I had a strong sense of cold turkey as I “came down” from the morphine. Phew, I thought, just in time.

The consequence, of course, was more pain, less night-time sleep and, maybe, a lowering of my spirits which had been, quite literally, pretty high whilst I was in hospital.

Still…it was a job well done.

The anti-seizure tablets carried that puritanical message that whilst taking them I would not be able to drink alcohol.

So here we went again! First no drugs and now no alcohol.

Oddly, the absence of both, even though I was in pain and still feeling truly weird sensations in my head, I felt better. My mind seemed to be my own again and I now knew exactly what my injuries were.

So, how unfair to then get toothache.

What drugs to take? They are all still there waiting to drag me back. A touch of morphine – only one tablet couldn’t do any harm. Some diazepam – so tempting. Some folks swear by a wee tot of whiskey at times like this.

Well the alcohol is forbidden but those drugs….mmmm….now there’s a thought.

I gave up smoking cigarettes a long time ago. I had a habit of at least 40 a day and remember so well the horrors of giving them up.

Nothing, no matter how much pain I feel, would tempt me back to the world of drug dependency.

In fact, although no one believes me, when or if I am allowed to drink again, a part of me thinks that I would rather keep my head clear and my thoughts focused without its reckless influence.

As for those glamorous street-cred drugs that are waiting in my cupboard, they are going back to the chemist shop. That forbidden pleasure, so vivid on the hospital ward, has lost its ginger – thank God.

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