*All accounts in this anthology are fictional
Trix
I played with addiction for a short part of my life; as a way to cope with the stress of school. Prior to becoming a University Professor in Philosophy, I went to medical school and it nearly killed me. I got through the first wave of internships smoothly, I was able to do my job and the additional schoolwork that was put on our plates. The second wave of internships the year after, that was a whole other issue and it started with four words.
*
“You’re doing it wrong.” My associate doctor kept yelling at me, over and over again, until he finally took over the examination of the patient at hand. The patient was struggling with severe abdominal pain, that wasn’t an appendix issue, or any other type of obvious treatable problem. I was proceeding with an abdominal exam, to try and find any possible ques that would help us establish what he was suffering from, but I never got to finish the exam.
“We are going to prescribe you some OxyContin, it will relieve your pain and allow you to function while we continue to monitor for any signs of disease or internal injuries.” He took a long, and uncomfortable pause before continuing, “This opioid can be dangerous, only take what is recommended, we will be monitoring your dosage.”
We both walked out of the patient’s room, we got a ways away from the door before I turned to the person that was supposed to be mentoring me, “I have never heard you say that to a patient before when giving them pain medication.” He looked at me with softer eyes than before, “OxyContin, although effective can be highly addictive, many people use them to relieve the pain they are feeling in their hearts, rather than in their bodies. Mr. Ottel has recently gone through a divorce, although he has no history of addiction, I don’t want him to take a pill and think that if he takes more the pain will go away. By telling him they are dangerous, I am not lying, but I am not telling him what the danger is, in hopes that he will avoid it.” I nodded, understanding the doctor’s reasoning and even more curious about the effects of OxyContin.
“Your shift is over. Go home, get some rest and come back actually ready to do your job in the morning.” It stung, I will admit, I was starting to question my whole entire career choice. As I a young teenager I was so determined to be what my father was, and then I changed my mind. I knew I wasn’t going to have children in my future, so I pursued medical school. I wasn’t sure if I had made the right choice, especially in this moment, when all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go back to the days where life seemed easier and happier. It may have seemed childish, but it was the reality I was facing. I was walking out the front doors of the Montreal General Hospital when Aiden stopped me in my tracks.
“Hey Trix, we are all getting together tonight for a little cool down after the day we have all had. My place, 9:00pm, be there!”
“I’ll think about it.” I smiled and walked out the front door, really just wanting a nap.
*
I woke up from my nap and turned to the alarm clock that I kept on my nightstand. 8:00. I had an hour and it only took me thirty minutes to get to Aiden’s by train. I was happy when they finally built the train between Montreal and Brossard, an easier way to get into the city, without having to live there. I threw on a pair of old jeans and a tie-die shirt and walked out the door.
When I arrived everyone in the house seemed out of it in some ways but put together in others.
“What is going on?” I asked Aiden, “Olivia stole some OxyContin from the hospital, here try some.” In that moment I had two choices to make, don’t take it and be the only one sober enough to walk to the bathroom or figure out what my associate doctor was talking about. I chose the second one. I had never become addicted to anything before, one try wouldn’t hurt. I popped back one pill to start. I didn’t feel much, until there was a warm sensation running through my entire body. I started to forget about the stress at work; I started to feel like myself again without having my head shoved in a textbook all the time; I started to feel happy. The night went by in a whirlwind, and soon everyone was getting ready to head back home, to catch some sleep before another crazy shift at the hospital.
“Hey Aiden,” I stopped myself in the doorway, “do you have any extra OxyContin?” He handed me a pill bottle with a few left, I put it in my pocket, and I headed out the door.
The next morning things didn’t get better with my associate doctor. He was grumpy, angry and everything seemed to always be my fault. I went to the locker room and took one pill, to get that warm and fuzzy sensation back, so that I wouldn’t be so triggered by being targeted. Soon, it became months of finding more pills and taking them whenever the doctor spoke. By the fifth month I was taking them with my breakfast, my lunch and my dinner just to get through the day. November 12 was the day that changed my entire life, the day that I derailed too much and got myself in trouble.
I was at the hospital, I had just arrived and was headed to the locker rooms when Aiden stopped me in the hall, wide-eyed and stroked with fear. “He’s in a BAD mood this morning.” “Oh great.” I said and went to go get changed. I couldn’t take another day of his yelling, grouchiness and inability to provide a learning environment. I opened the bottle, after already having one in the morning, and poured a few, I don’t even know how many. I popped them back, swallowing them dry and put my clothes on for the day. I walked out of the locker room, pushed on the swinging door and in front of the door the associate doctor stood. My heart began to race, my vision started to darken, and I was no longer able to keep my balance, I felt myself lose control of my body, but I never felt myself fall. It was as though I was floating on a cloud, all through the hospital, without a care in the world.
*
I woke up a day later, in a hospital bed and my associate doctor standing above me. He told me that I had overdosed, and had I not been in the hospital I would have died. My father came and picked me up, needless to say I took the rest of the semester off and started back in a different program, a different mindset and a lot of therapy. I had put too much pressure on myself to be perfect, that I took risks I shouldn’t have. What I did learn from it was that I shouldn’t have to rely on a drug or alcohol to go to my job, if I was, I was at the wrong job.