"I'm not an addict. Baby, I'm a lie"

A couple years ago when my client Claire was leaving my massage room, she stopped me in the hallway and said,
"Hey, I don't have any cash on me so I left you something else."
Hmmmmm. Okay. I entered the room with caution. You never know what will be waiting on the other side of that door.
I looked on the sheets where my clients usually leave their gratuity- nothing.
But there on the desk sat 5 neatly lined-up white pills. Vicodin. Oh sweet Vicodin, how I have loved you...wait a minute. She left me drugs? Weird, right? Not really. You see Claire is a nurse and also a bit of a addict. She openly admitted to me, "when the kids get outta hand I just take enough Vicodin until my eyes roll back."
She works for a a private physician and has access to just about anything you can possibly imagine. How do I know this? Well, because the next time she came in I asked her for twenty 10mg Ambiens. And you know what? I got them. Just like that. In fact she even came back after my shift was over and gave them to me -for free. From this point on, I was given a whole new education on opiates. In fact, I have learned more about drugs from my clients than I learned growing up with drug dealers in Montebello.
If ever I wanted anything special, I could just pick up the phone and have it literally delivered to me- free of charge. It's that easy. You know why? People in health care take care of each other- wink wink, that's why. This woman and many other nurses and doctors I see have all offered me some kind of prescription or actual product, at one time or another.
I'll admit it. There was a time when I had a slight addiction to Ambien to uh... help me sleep. My own doctor would not renew my script for fear I would grow dependent on it. She was right because when the well ran dry I was white knuckling it. Then it just so happened I came across Claire. She got me Ambien 3 times with no questions asked. When I didn't see her for a while I asked a doctor who I occasionally worked on if he would help me out. I even told him my doctor would not renew my script. He said, "not a problem" and wrote me a prescription for 4 refills. Just like that.
Yea, that was a little scary for me. I literally did not want to even try to sleep without my tiny dancer. But eventually I snapped out of it. Partly because I was too embarrassed to keep asking all the people that were "helping me out" and also because I was a mess. Break-ups are hard. I'll leave it at that.
Fast forward 6 months later. I start to notice all the patients who come in medicated. Actually I think that's putting it mildly. But that's what I'll call it.
Being that I work for a doctor, I see a ton of patients who are on their last legs and go to what doctors will call "Pain Management." This is just a watered down way of saying hard-core prescriptive drug administration- for those who are beyond surgery, physical therapy or rehabilitation.
My fellow therapist Shelby and I tend to play "guess what they're on" when a wobbly patient comes in.
Vince visits us twice a week. He usually shows up on time and waits wide-eyed in the waiting room for one of us to call him back.
This is usually how the conversation goes:
"Hey Vince, ready for your massage?"
He stands up and kind of staggers towards me.
"S' hot in here."
"Are you warm?"
"Daaaaaaamn. It is HOT in here."
"Okay. I'll turn up the air."
"Can you turn on the air?"
"Uh, sure. Um, what do you want to work on today?"
"I hurt. I mean I hurt-hurt. Fuck, It's hot in here. Are you losing weight?"
"What hurts? Your back?"
"My back hurts." Only he points to the back of his legs.
"Okay, go ahead and start face up, I'll be right back."
"Can you turn the air on? It's hot in here."
"I'll get the air. You ok?"
"Man, I didn't eat today. I'm so hungry I.."
"Okay, Vince. I'll be right back."
Soma. He's on Soma. Probably the most powerful muscle relaxer on the market. It even makes you drool uncontrollably. How does he even drive to his appointments? Scary. Vince tells me he takes 4 Somas a day and is up to 8 Vicodins "just to take the edge off." His doctor says it's fine. All a part of his pain management.

Ron usually comes in once month. He is the typical ex-rock guy who did way too many drugs while playing in cover bands all his life. After an accident he had when he was chasing his ex-wife, "that stupid bitch, that stupid cunt" he hit another car head on and royally fucked-up his lower back. I'll spare you the medical diagnosis. Ron is also in pain management.
His drug of choice: OxyCotin
That's right- the housewives' crack.
Ron has done so many drugs in his life that he has to be put on the mother of all pain killers just so he can get some relief. At least that is what he says.
There is only one problem with being on Oxycotin-it makes you feel invincible but can be mood altering. Hmmmm. Being that Ron has a bit on an anger problem, I'm not sure this is such a good idea. This is the conversation we had just recently.
"So how are you feeling today, Ron?"
"Man, I feel good. I just took 2 OxyCotins before I got here and now I don't feel anything. You know what I want to do. I feel like getting in a fight. Do you ever feel like getting in a fight?"
"Uh, I guess. But.."
"You know, I just can't imagine my life without my meds. My script ran out last week so I had to call one of my back-up doctors."
"What's that?"
"Oh, since I am a cash patient I have 4 primary doctors and clinics I use. I rotate on 4 because they all write me refills for the Oxy. So, if one script runs out and that doctor won't renew it I just call another one and he will."
"How long have you been on it?"
"3 years."
"Aren't you scared, Ron?"
"No way. It's better than heroin and it's legal. My girlfriend tried to get me to stop and we fought a little. But after a while she was only concerned with getting me to take my hands off her throat. Stupid whore."
"uh...ha ha?"
"I'm kidding."
Right. Sure you are. You fucking terrify me.
"Look, I need the stuff. I can live without her."

I know. This is like a bad ABC After School Special. But I see this shit all the time. Just a part of the job I guess.
Sometimes it's fun.
Beverly is fun. She looks like Joni Mitchell, only older.
She is on Prozac- a lot of Prozac.

"Hi, Beverly. What are we working on today."
"I don't know. Are you going to massage me? I like massages. I like you. You're nice."
"Full body today?"
"Yea.... Do you like soup?"
"Sure I do."
"I like soup. There is this recipe I saw for pumpkin soup. It looks good. I like soup. You should eat soup."
"That sounds good. Are you going to make it?"
"What."
"The soup. The pumpkin soup."
Blank stare.
"Oh. No. I make mash potatoes."
"That sounds good."
"What does?"
"Potatoes."
"Whos?"
"You said you make them."
"No, I said I make mash potatoes."
"Uh...ok. Try to relax and concentrate on your breathing, Beverly."
"I like you."
"I like you, too. But shhhhh. Let's keep our voices down."
Silence. 3o seconds go by. She starts again.
"Are you gonna make it?"
"Make what, the soup?"
"No. The sauce."
"What?"
"Nevermind." And she says it in a tone that suggests I am crazy. Cuckoo!

My job is so entertaining. What would I do without the sick, the addicted, the medicated, the filthy, the depressing and the perverts. I think I would be bored.

So, what have I taught you?
If you ever need drugs, just make friends with a nurse or doctor. Most are pretty irresponsible and will get you anything. Just ask.
If you need a refill on a prescription and your own doctor won't help you out, just go to another as a cash patient. This way there is no way of tracking your insurance to what you have been given and how much.
Don't argue with the medicated. They don't get it, and they like their lives just the way they are- nice and numb.
And finally, if you know anyone who can get me some Marinol, drop me a line.
Just kidding.

Have a great week everyone.