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Story of the last 3 years of my life - in a nutshell.
Story of the last 3 years of my life - in a nutshell.
~3 Years ago I was Diagnosed with Supraventrical Tachycardia. When I arrived at the hospital (I was told this later by my girlfriend) my oxygen levels were ~ 67% - she said. She also said they don't understand how I didn't pass out. At the ER room I was in, my heart rate had dropped to 180 BPM when I got there (When the attack happened, I could hear and feel every beat, my ears ringing to the point of barely being able to hear from my change in blood-pressure) But, I'm rambling. The way they treated this was completely absurd, although probably standard procedure. They gave me 2 doses (I believe they said the drug was only to be used one injection at a time intravenously) I had 2 nurses giving me 2 doses per time, through my my IV.
My heart would fall to 160. They told me the side effects of the drug (which to this day I don't know the name of, I would nearly kill to know it) were - "It's going to feel like you're drowning for 10 seconds" Well - those doses were the longest 15 seconds of my life, literally gasping for air, feeling as though I was literally dying. I don't remember a lot from that night, but what triggered was SVT attack was auditory hallucinations ( The only drugs I took that night were OTC stomach meds (Irritable bowel syndrome really sucks ) and 2 general muscle relaxers - you know the ones you get from a sprained ankle, the least strong ones. Anyways, I was laid up in the CCU for I think it was 6 days, on a drip of Diltiazem (tiazac) a calcium channel blocker, and 100 milligrams of metoprolol (lopressor) twice daily, and 3 scheduled time .25 mg xanax (I was freaking out near the whole time in the hospital) I think the reason I was there so long was because of the DANGEROUS combination of a beta-blocker and calcium channel blocker. The first night I was still having auditory hallucinations, so I asked my lover (of 7 years now, 2 kids, a third on the way) to please talk to a nurse to give me something to stop them (I wasn't experienced much in drugs, so I knew nothing about benzodiazapines. About 10 minutes later, what I can only describe as an angel walked in with a syringe, for my IV. I could have been hallucinating - but I wasn't nor have I ever had visual hallucinations, but the syringe looked like it had tiny blue squares in it, regardless, it was an IV benzo, and I believe there's only one type, because after that, I felt sudden relief, and finally passed out. (mind you I've been on, and prescribed, ativan, xanax, and klonopin afterwards, xanax and klonopin both at one point, but now my insurance wont cover 2 benzos, and for other reasons I'll likely never be prescribed xanax again - I'll explain that later. So after all of this retrospect 3 years later, I really do believe I had PTSD, there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of that horrible drug they gave me, and I'm 24/7 until I fall asleep or am heavily medicated on xanax that I don't consciously breathe. I avoid the subject of SVT or my hospitalization at all costs now, because it usually instantly triggers a panic attack. Take note I had ~ 2 panic attacks prior to this incident, both from smoking marijuana, which I haven't done for a very long time, nor do I plan to. So I eventually got released on the medications celexa 40mg 1x daily, xanax .50mg 3x daily as needed ( for the first few months I wouldn't even take it daily, but again will explain that later ) 240mg diltiazem extended release 1x daily, 100mg metoprolol 2x daily. After a while I noticed the diltiazem made my heart feel like it was struggling to beat, and occasionally forgot to take it - and I was fine, I also no longer had that feeling, so I took myself off of the medication, and promptly told my physician - he was ok with that. Months ensued, my anxiety became worse, I could no longer visit family that was a 20 minute drive away without having panic attacks, I would take my xanax, I even took two (.50s) and waited for them to kick in, they would stop it, but sure enough a little later it would start, so I would have to go home, and they would stop. At this point my doctor started to ween me off of my metoprolol because it was such a high dosage, and my vitals were doing ok (I haven't had an SVT attack since, other than in rehab - again explained later sorry for how long this is, but this is the first time I've told anyone my whole story, other than my partner. My doctor then prescibed 1mg klonopin 2x daily. That's when things changed, I as much as the next person loved an opiate buzz, and figured hey, these klonopin aren't working ( little did I know it takes 1 week to be in full effect ) So, I asked a friend of mine to sell them. I believe at this point I was being prescribed 240 5/325 vicodin per month for chronic back pain. I was still running out early, but never withdrew too harshly, I even sold some of my precious opiates for gas money, cigarette money, every day living expenses (my vicodin were 160 dollars for the presciption at the time, so the extra money helped. This is around year 2. Mid year 3 I was being prescribed 90 2mg xanax, and 240 10/325mg vicodin, and running out of both early, I mean like 5-15 days early towards the end before rehab. It got to the point early this year that I was out of my benzos, and vicodin. I had no way to buy ativan to prevent myself from seizures this time, like I had always done before ( I pretty much lost every material object I owned through my drug addiction, either traded, or sold, even for ludicrous amounts of me getting ripped off - because the people knew my situation) At this point I knew I would either die from seizures, or have to check myself into rehab, so the choice was obvious - rehab. I don't like remembering those 4 days, I've never been in such mental anguish, or physical pain in my life. The following months were even worse though. For the first 2 weeks after rehab, all I did was cry, and consider suicide - I felt like I was a shell of a person, and had nothing left to give to anyone, including myself. Afterwards, I shook like an alzheimer patient, which I never had before, and that never stopped. Panic attacks daily, I was bed-bound for a good 3 months, untill I finally saw my physician again - I felt so much guilt for betraying his trust in me. I told him I did not abuse benzos, I was in there for the opiates ( I cannot function without I benzo, I tried for 3 months and literally could not get out of bed without a panic attack). He agreed to put me on Klonopin 1 mg 3 times daily. I took those according to the prescription, for about 2 weeks. After having hard times at home - I relapsed, hard. I was taking 25 10/325s a day again when I could, I didn't care about the detox, just the rush of that lovely opiate high. I'm sitting here detoxing as I type this, although I did take 15mg hydrocodone and a quarter of a percocet I had (I don't really care for them, I never get high from them, only use for withdrawals/detoxes. But that's mostly it, skipping the good 5-10 (Hell if I remember) heavy detoxes I've gone through since rehab, I was even stupid enough to get addicted to xanax again, and am doing it again, but I learned my lesson the first time, and not to be on them for too long, it takes about 4 mg of xanax. At my worst I was taking 5 2 mg xanax at a time, not feeling much, and 6 10/325s to get any feeling from it. Honestly, I think the high doses of xanax just made me not care, just supressed my brain activity too much to. I hope this was a decent post - it's my first, I guess I "Hi this is me". If anyone has any questions I'll gladly answer them unless they ask about my direct location, I have no problem listing the hospital, or the horrible treatment there.
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