Trials and Tribs of Morphine Addiction

[Chrissie J.]

First, I'm not a cry-baby.  Second, my case is strange in that it involves neurofibromatosis and the painful problems it has created in my life.  Thirdly, I am addicted to more than just morphine.  It rides on a three year tail-wind that led to a massive craniotomy ivolving the excision of schwannoma from the 7th cranial nerve on the left side of my face.  The schwannoma did not spare my eye socket.  They over-ran the orbital floor and snaked down my optic nerve.  In order to access the orbit, temporal lobe and deep cavernous sinus, a trinity team of top-notch surgeons (Neuro, Oculo-plasty, and Plastic) removed the entire left-side of my forehead and subsequently dove right in on what each termed "huge" and "massive" and "a first".  We all learned valuable information for future generations of genetically deficient genes.  Hormone research is in full-swing.  Meanwhile, I'm watching the fruits of the endeavor ripen via the use of two good eyes instead of just one.

This diatribe might be consider lengthy by some standards, but when a story needs to be told, the professional writer in me emerges complete with augmented details.  In short, I am currently kicking morphine.  At the time of my surgery, 180 mgs served well tucked in with 60 mgs of Ritalin for mental focus.  Both rode on the tail-wind of existing medications, those being 2700 mgs of Neurontin, 60 mgs of Baclofen, and 450 mgs of Mexiletine (for its "Cainal" advantages).  The last three meds mentioned remain the same.  The morphine is my biggest nightmare.

I called the surgical shot back in May 1999 because I could no longer handle another morpheus ascent.  The tumors had to go if I was to have any quality of life at all... and the morphine with it.  I am currently stable at 90 mgs per day (a 90 mg descent over a 3 month period) and a Ritalin reduction from 60 mgs to 40 mgs.

None of this has been easy for me.  Facial paralysis goes along with the game.  I can accept it better than being addicted to an over-all bad-boy named Morph.  I suppose 180 mgs is considered "high", but I still could drive my old Lincoln Continental in heavy traffic (as long as I had Ritalin, I could drive for hours).  I abused it according to situations, and still do.  I believe Morph will be a rememberance, but his side-kick Speed will be the most challenging.  I am not going to lie and say I detest Speed.  In fact, I love it... and that's bad.  If I didn't have it, I wouldn't be shaving Morph so closely.

Morphine side-effects are weird.  I cry one minute, laugh the next.  Then... I have breathing difficulties and pop a Ritalin.  Sometimes I catch myself not breathing at all.  It's like I exhale, wait, then remember to suck some air 10 seconds later.  Is that a normal thing?  I also get muscle cramps in my back between the shoulder blades, plus... there are involuntary muscle spasms, especially on a Ritalin "crash".  I hate them.  I've had my fingers jump while writing checks, thereby forcing a "void".  Sometimes I don't know what to make of everything and feel just plain lost in the space of my life.  Even though my reductions are controlled at 45 mgs per drop, I spend 3 days in actual hell on earth.  Everything is jumbled, bumbled, fumbled and emotional.  My neurologist tried to perscribe something to help but I refused the assistance by saying, "Hey Doc?  Do I look like I wanna shove another frigging pill down my throat when I'm trying to exit this dilemna?"  If I need assistance, I'll be sure to let him know.

But in the meantime... a massive craniotomy has freed something because I have movement in my left cheek that hasn't moved for many, many, many moons.  I've a dimple behind a laugh line that amazes me.  Stuff like this makes kicking 2 bad-boys worth the discomfort.  Problem is... taking away Morph reveals underlying pain from existing unremovable schwannoma on the outside of my skull between the skin and bone.  I'm afraid I'll never be off Morph, and that is depressing because I hate the stuff.  I'd appreciate any information and advice from Dr. Steve, or anyone experienced in the Arena of Addiction and "How To Kick Its A__!"

Sorry I'm so long-winded, but... a writer usually is, and always will be.  Thanks for hearing me out.  I need your input so I might output and save my sanity at the same time.

Sincerely,

Chrissie J.

[noangel]

Pack your stuff and leave him immediately with this note:

Dear ________,

Only YOU can change the dilemma you are in.  You have a choice;  drugs or life.  If you choose to **** up your life with drugs, then that's your choice and I respect it.  But, I have a choice also and can't let you ruin my life, too.  Sometimes loving someone is just not enough to justify staying with them if they are destructive.  I have to save my own life now, so I must go.  If you decide to change and get clean, then after one year of sobriety, look me up.  Otherwise, don't bother.

Love,

Libby

[Libby E.]

my problem is much related to that of Chrissie J's.  Only the problem does not lie in my body, but the body of someone very important to me.  My boyfriend is sick.  He cannot get off heroine.  I have gone through rehab with  him and i have tried on my own.  He gets very sick when he tries to quit.  He vomits and lies in bed all day, curled up in the fetal position, crying and begging me to get him more.  I can't see him do this to himself any longer.  It is hell for both him and me.  When he doesn't have it, he becomes very moody and defiant.  I'm 18 years old and I can't handle this stress.  Please give me some advice.
Sincerely,
Libby

[Chrissie J.]

Dr. Steven,

Ritalin taken for focus is an absolute jokus.  It's speed for cryin-out-loud!!!  Its "crash" is worse than morphine's diabolical 3-day cruise through the waters of limbo.  I am trying to stablize myself on a mere 20 mg reduction to 20 mgs per day (been at it for the last 4 days) and this is where Satin lives.  Between the waves of nausea and visual disturbances rocking my boat, I am puking like a foole with a final E.  It's crazy!  I can't smoke cigarettes.  Each lap of their smoky odor trips the nausecal wire and I visit the porcelain bus.  I detest methylphenidate!  I fear the last final 20 mgs will be a hellacious test of endurance, both physical and mental.  If I'd have known... if only I'd known the trial and tribs I would have sustained the morpheus "nod" and learned to live with it.  This is hell, Dr. Steve.  Pure hell.

Thanks for listening.
Sincerely,

Chrissie J.