I’m a dope fiend

6/8/22

I remember the first time I smoked weed. It was with a childhood friend who I used to play soccer with. He was also the first person I started smoking cigarettes with. I was 13 years old and it was magical.

Everything that was supposed to happen did. We laughed at the most ridiculous things. Beatboxing brought tears to our eyes. We pondered the greatest of mysteries such as is the S or the C in scent silent? Or what if Soy milk is just regular milk introducing itself in Spanish? We ate and ate and ate. The one thing I remember most was putting captain crunch on vanilla ice cream and thinking it was the greatest thing ever.

And that’s where it stopped. Never again in my experimentations did I ever replicate those feelings again. All I wanted to do was sleep. And not a causal rest either. This was almost violent making me pass out uncontrollably. One time I even passed out on my feet in a restaurant walking from the counter to a table. It was at that moment I realized weed was not for me. After all, who wants to pay whatever sum you’re paying just to go to sleep?

And that’s when I met alcohol. We got along great. For 30+ years we’ve hung out and created wonderful memories (some of which were lost to black outs but the camera roll reveal was always amusing).

Now I’ve succumbed to peer pressure occasionally and hit a joint, bowl, bong, or whatever device my enticer was using. Same results. A solid reminder why I don’t indulge.

I bring all of this up because what’s missing in my substance use is everything else. I’ve always had a firm outlook on drug use. It wasn’t for me. If I had a dollar for every time I turned down cocaine I’d be a millionaire. I’d always get the suspicious stares from my inquisitors but I could fight well so never worried about any of the outcomes all of which thankfully turned out nonviolent.

This brings us to present day. The doctors have prescribed me opiates to manage my recovery. I’m currently prescribed oxy & morphine and have been taking them regularly as prescribed. A side effect of opiates is constipation. To relieve my bowels I would skip the opiates for a day and shit my brains out. But each time I’d get very ill.

Today it dawned on me after skipping my waiting medication that my body is physically addicted to these same opiates that are supposed to give me relief from the cancer and treatment side effects being the radiation therapy and chemotherapy I went through which takes 3-6 months to clear the body. I have no mental desire for any of the medication I’m prescribed but the physical is clearly there. I’ve become a junky without ever using anything recreationally and I don’t like it.

To all of my friends who are also currently going through your own battle with cancer I highly recommend avoiding any type of narcotic relief your doctors may offer. There are several other medications available that require higher dosage but less risk of addiction which I turned down foolishly thinking I’d be immune to the effects due to my mental position on the opioid family. As a man who once subconsciously looked down upon heroin addicts I now share the same withdraw symptoms they have. Perhaps that’s karma kicking me in the ass. Whatever the reason, this is just one more obstacle that I’ll eventually have to overcome. Until then I believe I’m pretty much stuck in this loop until hopefully surgery is ordered and I can be done with this cancer battle for good. I plan on looking into a detox center after that. Until then, keep me in your prayers.