I'm a dumbass. I admit that because half the time, I have no idea how to live life and I need lots of help to get through each day. I was in a real bad car accident back in July of 2017 and ended up needing spinal surgery. I had the surgery almost 3 months ago now and I'm still in nearly intolerable pain every day. That incident altered my life in a permanent way. Physically, I'm unable to do anything relatively, remotely, physical. I can't run. I can't do push ups. I've gained 40lbs since last year because I haven't been able to exercise. I got hooked on pain meds and suddenly realized I was having a problem abusing them.
One day, I got hit with Narcan because when my psychiatrist called EMS on me, after a really bad episode; they said that I had taken 3 pain pills but somehow EMS thought I had taken 30 pain pills and believed that I had overdosed. There's millions of people overdosing in the US and in Charleston, so when they hear percaset, they go into just "another overdose" mode. It's a common call they get. I'm gonna tell you, that was a nightmare-ultimately one of the most painful experiences I've ever had. There's plenty more painful experiences but I will divulge those in upcoming blogs. LOL.
There is more to this horrible story that I feel necessary to reveal. What had really happened to cause EMS to show up was that I smoked weed after 90 days of being clean, took 3 percaset and started a new psych med that could possibly lower my blood pressure. Well, I bugged out. Crying hysterical I called my mentor, did not tell him I smoked pot. He tells me "Call the psychiatrist and tell them what you did."
So, I called them, frantically, without saying I smoked weed and the lovely receptionist called 911 for me. They showed up and I instantly knew I was in a heap of shit. They fired off a million questions, I'm stoned as fuck (excuse my language), I couldn't understand why the EMT's were pissed off and angry so I was pissed off and angry back.
In the ambulance they strap me down because at this point I'm irate. They say I'm nodding out but I was really just having a panic attack. That's when they jam some Narcan in my veins. I had no idea what Narcan even was. Part of me thought it was going to be pleasant and a calming experience. It wasn't peaceful at all. In fact, it's the opposite of peaceful. In 90 seconds, I went from being intensely stoned,a panicking idiot to a violently ill, instantly withdrawing, most fucked up feeling of "I'm gonna die" person. Once hit with that lovey drug, they needed a urine sample at the hospital. I couldn't pee in front of them. I got gun-shy and I was still enraged about the deathly ill feeling I had. Then they-without my permission-shoved a tube inside my pee-hole. Oh it was just fucking great! Just kidding. It was horrifying. But here I am 3 months later starting to feel like a human again.
I still have pain and lots of it. However, I've been off narcotic pain pills for 2 months. I take IBprofin. I also don't use alcohol anymore. I can't use alcohol anymore. That doesn't fix anything. It makes everything worse. It's actually probably the worse thing I could do right now. I want to be healthy and clean but I have a brain that constantly tells me that I need medicine in whatever form we can find. My brain lies to me because I'm sick. I have to deal with it. There is a way that makes it manageable though and it starts with morning prayer and meditation. It requires me to talk with a mentor at least once a day. I have to help other people in order to receive help from others.
I can help in lots of ways. By putting myself out there in hopes that some people can relate, find a resource in my past mistakes and my tragedies could be helpful to others. Who knows? Maybe this little rant will help someone suffering from the same thing I got. Feel free to join my mailing list and share this article if you found it interesting. Respond to me by email or on social media. I'm not hard to find. LOL. I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading.
-Joe Gallagher Jr.