Oxycontin Addiction

My husband and I have been married for twenty-one years now. But the last three years have not been very easy for us. It has been a long struggle. The children have required a great deal of reassurance.

It all started on a Wednesday in January, three years ago. He had been out chopping firewood for the evening fire. Little did he know that the axe had been tampered with.  As he raised the axe to strike the stump, the blade left the handle and went spinning down and crashed his femur.

At the hospital, they put him under a sedative, but the pain was evident on his face. The doctors gave him an oxycontin prescription. He was in the hospital for a month. When he was discharged, he took the prescription home.

At home, he slowly became depressed. He could no longer go to work. He was now confined to a wheelchair. The only times he would seem a little happier was after taking the oxycontin prescription and then he would slowly slide back to depression after the medication’s effects wore off. He began taking a larger dose of the tablets so that the effects could last longer. Each day he took more and more, gradually replacing meals with those tablets.

Money started being a problem, yet he couldn’t do without the expensive medicine. He became lean with each passing day. Talking to him was no good, as he did not listen. When his parents tried to talk to him, he simply nodded in agreement then went back to the drugs as soon as they were out of sight.

Soon after, he started complaining of a backache. We were back to the hospital. Tests showed that he had severe spinal injuries due to abuse of oxycontin. He had to spend another two months hooked to machines. Friends and relatives contributed towards paying the bill, but that was not enough. The health insurance denied liability, claiming that the injury was self-inflicted. Problems piled up as friends gradually became tired of contributing.

The hospital could no longer house him so he was discharged. He took the new medication that was prescribed to reverse the effects of oxycontin. Day by day he regained health even started talking again. He admitted that he had been aware of the effect oxycontin was giving him, but he couldn’t stop using it. He is ready to get help and I am happy to have a second chance to get my family back together again.

Scott is 19. He lives at home with his parents in Kaimuki neighborhood in Honolulu, one of Hawaii’s older areas. Last week his grandmother passed away and, although his family and friends, particularly one of his closest friends Daniel, have been doing their best to help him through this tough time he is feeling very strange, something which feels a little like loneliness, although he can’t quite tell.

Scott, like many Hawaiins, is an avid surfer and has always felt at home in the sea, finding peace in its endlessness and a sense of mothering comfort in its perpetual ebbing. To him then seas constant lapping is a loving caress, but lately he hasn’t been surfing much.

Scott is, unwittingly, the classic candidate for drug addiction. Unknown to him, his grandmothers’ death has left a vast gash into the fabric of his emotions and, as many of us do, he is avoiding the pain, saying to the caring people around him that he “expected it” and that “she has gone to a better place.” He even refused to miss more than two days of college, knowing that a large portion of the money used to pay for his studies came from his late grandmother.

At school yesterday, a new friend invited Scott to come to his house over the weekend, to relax and get away. Scott jumped at this opportunity to have some time to himself without needing to bat away seemingly empty condolences from all and sundry. The new friend Jake had invited Daniel as well and privately told him Scotts old friends that he knew a sure way to help him through this.

Saturday afternoon and the boys arrive at Jakes home. Jakes father, a lawyer with a good reputation, is out of town for the weekend and Jake is looking after the house. “Come play Call of Duty,” says Jake, and the two old friends follow him to the TV room. Scott finds the games violent nature a lot more satisfying than he normally would, and gets very competitive, winning almost each battle.

Jake disappears whilst Scott and Daniel go head to head. His voice drifts through the TV room’s doorway from somewhere deeper in the house. “Want anything to eat guys?” “Yes,” the boy’s call back in unison, eyes fixed intently on the screen in front of them. Daniel is starting to catch up.

Jake returns with a sleek metal tray of food and drink and when the boys sit down to eat, he turns to Daniel. “Tell him Dan.” Daniel looks at Scott, puts his hand on his shoulder and says “Scott, I’ve known you for ages. I know when you’re upset and you’re definitely a lot more upset about your grandmothers death than you’ve been showing everyone.”

Scott’s smile vanishes so fast it’s hard to believe it was ever there. He’d forgotten totally about his gran, just for that hour, but now, like a heavy winter duvet, the weight of the facts falls back down.

“And so,” continues Daniel, “Jake and I have managed to get you something to help.” Jake places 2 golden-yellow, circular tablets on the food tray. They stand out sharply against the silvery tray.

“Take these,” urges Jake. “They’re designed to help people deal with pain.”