My Rapid Detox Procedure

Three years into my addiction

I was homeless off and on throughout my addiction. After walking the streets for a few months, there would be opportunities where convincing my parents would allow me back into their home. The agreements made between me and my parents would range anywhere from "If you let me move back home I promise to get sober" to "I can't get sober but I will keep all drugs and paraphernalia out of the house." Of course neither of those "promises" ever held true and I would lie, manipulate and steal until I was kicked out once again.

The majority of my homeless stints, I would find refuge (under a bridge or abandoned field) in a large city about 60 miles (85km? lol) from my parents home. This of course was because "the city" is where I would hook up my balloons of heroin and cocaine from the Mexican dealers.

One day I ran into an acquaintance who had just been released from an 18 month prison sentence. This particular day I was out of money and out of heroin. He was looking to score some cocaine. I told him I was dope sick and if he was willing to buy me some heroin, I would get him his cocaine. He was more than happy to take my offer. Once I scored the drugs, we went to a nearby public bathroom to do our business. While in adjacent bathroom stalls, he asked me for some heroin. I knew he hadn't done any in almost 2 years but I wasn't willing to get into a boxing match with someone of his size and stature. His neck tattoos alone scared me enough. I handed him some of my leftovers under the stall wall and continued mixing and stirring my shot. Once I finished, I came out of the stall and looked at my acquaintance. He was standing in front of the mirror with both hands on the sink. He was just gazing into his own reflection. Seconds later, he tipped backwards without shuffling his feet and hit the bathroom floor like a bag of wet sand. He just laid there motionless. We were both in possession of cocaine, heroin, syringes and other paraphernalia.  With no lock on the bathroom door, I was terrified someone would come in. I panicked and ran away; leaving the lifeless man on the cold floor. Still to this day, I don't know if that man died.

This was one of many incidents that was a turning point in my addiction. All I could think about was getting home to my family. Not knowing what happened to that man was beginning to weigh on me. It was too much for me to process and the only thing I knew how to do was numb myself from it. Doing more heroin wasn't helping anymore. I decided to call home. I needed help. 

Because of the seriousness of what happened, there was greater urgency and honesty in my convictions to get sober. I believe my father could see that- even under my inebriated and rickety shell of a body. After a 2 hour discussion with my parents I was allowed to move back in. The requirement this time was that I absolutely had to get clean. I felt at this point in my life, I was truly ready.

At the time, I felt I had tried everything to get myself clean. From weening myself off heroin, switching from heroin to cocaine, from cocaine to meth, from meth right back to heroin. Relocating, white knuckling. Quite early in my addiction I was thoroughly convinced I could stay sober if I just listened to music! I have a strong relationship with music but give me a break Dustin. What were you thinking? I know what I was thinking. I thought my battle was about will power. That will power alone could keep me sober.

My dad had mentioned AA and NA many times because he wanted me sober more than anything in the world. Back then, I had this preconceived ridiculous notion that AA was for old men who needed a place to drink whiskey, have farting contests and to re-live war stories. I am introvert who wasn't too fond of farting at public gatherings nor had I fought in any wars. 

I wanted to believe that I was unique in my addiction and that no one else was addicted for the same reasons as me; that no one had the same problems as me. Up to this point, the only option that had been somewhat successful was when the Judges got tired of seeing me on petty theft and paraphernalia charges and would throw me in jail for a month or so. Obviously, this option was not voluntary; at least not yet. I will get to my voluntary jail requests another day. When I was forced to get clean my sobriety never lasted very long.

I was feeling wore out. Wore out from relapsing, wore out from withdrawals, wore out from life. My parents were also exhausted. My heroin addiction had eaten its way through our family structure and it was starting to break apart at the seams. 

We had a family discussion again last night. After a long phone call to my grandparents from my father, my grandparents have decided to pay five thousand dollars so I can have a rapid detox procedure done. It will take place next week. 

 I had some old methadone pills left over from about a  year ago stuffed in my old dresser. I've decided to take the methadone until I get the procedure done. This way I don't have to find a ride to the city every day this week when I run out of heroin.

4 DAYS LATER

The anesthesiologist who will be performing my procedure called today for a consultation and he told us what to expect from the procedure. By the end of the conversation, I was instructed to stop taking the methadone and get back on heroin! WTH? I am blown away right now. Did I hear the doctor correctly? That is exactly what I was told and the doctor explained why:

 For those of you who don't know what Narcan is; Narcan (naloxone) is a drug that reverses the affects of opiate based drugs. It blocks opioids from attaching to the receptors in the brain. It is often administered to stop an (opiate) overdose. The procedure I am doing consists of being sedated into a deep sleep. Once asleep, I will be injected with Narcan. The doctor explained that Methadone sticks to the receptors in the brain with a much stronger bond than that of heroin. That made sense to me because I knew when I did heroin, I had to do it about every 6 hours. Methadone I could do just once a day. He said if I was on heroin instead of Methadone, the procedure would be much more successful. 

Once given the Narcan, my body will go into heavy withdrawals. This process is kind of like a 3 or 4 day time machine. The worst part of the withdrawal process happens while I am asleep. It takes about two hours to complete. Once complete, they will put my mom and I in a nice motel room and they will also have a nice steak dinner brought to my mom. It is kind of a weird combination of amenities but I didn't care. I did ask "What about my steak dinner?" The doctor laughed and said "I can promise you this, the last thing you will want when you wake up is a steak dinner."

I had a previous experience with Narcan a couple years prior to this procedure. This was before I understood what it was. I thought it wouldn't affect me as an active heroin user. Boy was I wrong! My parents gave me 10 days to get sober and then I would be given a Naltrexone (Narcan) pill on the tenth day. I figured I could use heroin up to the tenth day and just take the pill. No big deal right? Wrong! I believe that was the worst, most painful and excruciating day of my existence. I don't want to sidestep on the current story so I will go into more detail on that later on. The point is, Narcan works!

After my parents collected their bearings from the mind-boggling advise of the doctor, I was told to get in the car. My mom and I was on our way to the city. We were going to get me off the methadone that I have been taking for the past four days. My mom and I scored me 3 days worth of heroin.

PROCEDURE DAY

I am nervous, scared, excited, ashamed, embarrassed and worried. All the what-ifs' are twirling around in my head and it is making me uneasy. They had me strip off all my clothes and put on a robe that opened in the back. The doctor just came in and gave me a cocktail of pills and said they should make me really sleepy. I feel too worked up to sleep right now. Wat if ii don wak uppp? Wht if it proseedur dont wrk? ZONK!!!

The next thing I remembered was waking up on a hospital style bed. I don't know how I got there. I don't remember anything but sitting in that chair. I am glad I have no recollection of what happened because after I came to, I realized that a nurse had inserted a tube into my butt and also a tube into my penis. Luckily I was still so drugged that I didn't care. Knowing that during my sedation, I uncontrollably pooped and pissed while lying in bed makes me cringe.  How fun it that! 

I'm not sure why they record the whole process but they did. (Not the gross stuff I just mentioned but the entire procedure itself.) They were taking the video camera off of  a tri-pod when I woke up. So somewhere in my mom's house, there is a video of my rapid detox procedure. Maybe I should ask her for it so I can remind myself just how bad things can get. It is so easy to forget and say "Eh, it wasn't THAT bad!" It was THAT bad Dustin. Don't kid yourself.

Once my mom and I left the doctors office, I had to have her assistance getting out of the car and walking into the hotel. People in the elevator where giving me strange "what the hell is wrong with that guy?" look. I don't care much. I am giggly and feeling the effects of the sedation medication. I am dizzy and my equilibrium is off, but for the most part, I am out of pain.

The room is nice. There is a hot tub in the center of the room. I am just lying on the bed. I can feel the fog lifting off me and my stomach is starting to rumble. My mom is sitting at the small table eating her steak and vegetables that was promised earlier. The doctor was right. The smell of her food is making me sick. The ache in my legs is beginning to slowly creep upwards. Slowly lifting each leg I can tell I am going to be in a lot of pain soon. I get into the hot tub.

After 20 minutes in the wonderful steaming hot water, a nurse comes into the room. I am glad he is here because my stomach feels like it is twisting into small, tight little knots. He gives me a shot in my belly

ONE WEEK LATER

I still feel crappy but it is tolerable. Its Friday night so decided to go with my sister and her husband to one of their friend's house. I think being around other sober people is best for me right now. I feel like I am at a tipping point on my withdrawals. I could either push myself through this last part, or if I am not careful, I could relapse. If I relapse, all of this would be for nothing. At least I can smile. I do feel happy overall despite the lack of energy and leftover pain that creeps in and out.

 90 DAYS AFTER PROCEDURE

I made it 90 days before I relapsed. At the time, 90 days was my longest period of sobriety so it was even more devastating. Of course after every relapse, your thoughts remind you of how worthless you are and how big of a failure you have become. Not to mention the five thousand dollar price tag that was now nothing more than salt in my wound. The devastation allowed my progressive disease to turn on the after-burners and I sunk to a new low. I was afraid I would never return. All moral lines would be erased and I would begin to see the real power of my relentless addiction...