Ashton

My name is Ashton, and I’m definitely an unconventional listener. You see, I’m not an addict myself, but I’m the daughter, friend, cousin, sister, step daughter, and widow of many addicts. I’m from middle Tennessee where drugs have completely ravaged many people around me. In fact, I turned 30 this year & I have never seen either of my parents sober. My dad is a retired emergency room physician who got in trouble for writing prescriptions in multiple family members names to support his habit. He’s also an alcoholic. My mom hasn’t had a job since I was very young & supports her habit by doing anything necessary to get her next fix. My little sister has completely spiraled. The last I heard, she was shooting meth and had just gotten arrested for theft. She’s also lost custody of her three children. My step mom died by suicide (Xanax overdose) in 2017, and my then husband died four days later by using a “suicide hood”. He was struggling with a heroin addiction at the time of his death. I have many friends from my childhood & cousins who have also struggled with addiction throughout my life. Thankfully, I learned at a young age that I needed to stay far away from substances. Ironically, I’m a pharmacist, but I work in long-term care because dispensing certain medications in the retail pharmacy was becoming extremely hard & I felt myself needing a break from that. I’ve listened to your podcast on and off for about 5 years now. It’s been oddly healing for me to hear success stories of recovery especially when people choose their children over their addiction. Thank you for what you do for so many people! You don’t know how much it means to me as a child of addicts to hear you talk about your fear of losing your family and the lengths you’ll go to keep that! Anyway, have a great weekend & toodles for Chris!!!

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Breean

This is a Dopey story that takes place in the summer of 2000 in Korea town. My boyfriend and I had a shitty studio apartment on Normandie and Wilshire. I was 20 and entering my senior year of college. We moved to LA to be closer to our drug of choice- black tar herion.  Shout out Olympic/Beacon and Bonnie Brea area.
I was working at the souvenir store at Hard Rock by Universal Studios.  My bf could not keep a job, to my recollection.
One night, late after I got off work, I arrived to our apartment and my bf had a friend over. We had used with this friend before so we were all ready to start the night with a fresh score of shit that was hitting so fucking hard. We would shoot it up but not all the time. We warned the friend it was strong but he loaded up his syringe to slam anyway. Next thing you know, he’s ODing on our inflatable couch. Luckily dope addicts tend to be thin because we picked him up and took him in the shower and put cold water on. He was coming to, so we called 911 on a cell phone, did not give our apartment number. Then my bf told me to get sugar and we shoveled sugar in his mouth. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. He still wasn’t coming to, but then I guess the cold water and sugar worked. He stopped looking blue and started yelling at us “what the fuck?!l”
We told him he just OD’d. He chilled for maybe 5 minutes continuously asking what happened?  Then he starts loading another rig! We are telling no dude!!! You just died on us! Oh we had called 911 so we can hear them 5 stories down trying to get in the building and trying to figure out who called. We were definitely hiding from the police , ambulance, whatever was out there. We made the smoke smoke his heroin the rest of the night. And we kept going back for that bomb hook up for the next few days.
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Nick

Okay, finally, first time writing, but I’ve been listening since day 1; my cousin was a member of Chris’s um, harem at some point, and she put me on. Figured I’d try to hit you with a little Dopey for the 400th (!!!) episode. Okay so 20ish years ago, I was living back home while doing a year at a local community college — after failing out of UMass for the second time. My girlfriend was out in Amherst, so I spent a lot of time out there. I guess that technically, I would have said I was an Oxy dealer, but unsurprisingly, I used way, way more than I sold. So here’s some shit I got into over like, a 10-day span in 2005/6.. I went to a friends house to play cards. Brought a whole bunch of 80s — still feel bad for you that you missed out on those, and am always surprised no one ever talks about the 160s, but I digress. So I got all fucked up and my friends tried to keep me from driving — took my keys, etc. I managed to duck out of there somehow, and on the way home, I nodded out at the wheel and totaled my dad’s car. Couple days later, i thought it was a good idea to drive from my house to UMass in the middle of a blizzard to move 25 80s. There was about a foot of snow on the road, and I wound up losing control on the highway .. spun out  across the Mass Pike, air bags deployed, car totaled.. the roads were so bad that I waited a couple of hours for the ambulance, and I wound up on the way to the hospital before I could get to my little stash spot in my trunk. I went to some bootleg hospital out in the western MA area; I got some stitches in my head, and was cleared to leave, but had no way to get anywhere. I called the non-emergency number for the State Police and got the address for the place where my car had been towed. Then I called a 24 hour livery service whose number I got from a Yellow Pages, and got picked up at about 2:00 in the morning by a possibly drunk lady driving her old minivan. I had no wallet or anything, because I’d left everything in my car. I told her that I had drugs in there, and I’d give her some of them if she drove me to my car before bringing me to UMass. She did exactly that, and I threw her a couple of the 80s; we spent a good 3 hours together because of how long it took us to get from the hospital to the tow yard to UMass, and she was definitely not sober, so it was a pretty crazy ride. Made it to UMass and moved the 20 remaining 80s when I got there, and then just wound up staying  there for a week or so — with no car to get home. In that time, I skipped a few shifts at my job with no notice or explanation and was promptly fired. Definitely not my best week, but honestly, not my worst, either. Anyway, I wanted to finally send something in. I celebrated five years on February 5th, and I mean it when I say that Dopey is one of the most impactful and consistent parts of my recovery. I would not have the life I have today if it weren’t for you and Chris and Cormac and whoever runs the DN FB page these days (I’m off Facebook! shouts to Johann) and Todd and Alan and Ray and Fentanyl Jay and Erin and all the other regulars and the whole entire Dopey Nation. I love you Dave. Keep doing what you’re doing. You have changed my life and my family’s life immeasurably. Stay strong Dopey Nation, and FTFC

Nick

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Scott

So, I do the time. I’m done kicking but im still a little pasty. Still now totally feeling 100.i go to a friends house to stay because my girlfriend  got locked up for sales of meth and is on her way to prison. So im at my friends for a few days and someone comes but with fentanyl patches. This is 2010 and fentanyl wasn’t everywhere like it is today. So, I get a patch from him, and I had heard of people eating them, so I do just that, I look on the packaging and its says 50 mg. I think shit, I use to hit 80 mg oxys without a habit so this 50 won’t be bad. Well, I was wrong, I wake up in the hospital 3 days later tied to a bed with doctors standing over me. Ive got a tube down my throat, and they are trying to calm me down because I am thrashing around not knowing what the fuck is going on, why am tied to a bed and why can I not talk. They explain to me I overdosed, and they wanted to know if I had anymore patches somewhere at the house. I said no and they said they will be taking the tube out later that day. So there I am, staring at the wall, up on the wall was Jesus crucified to a cross and I was all alone. It was the first time in my life I had overdosed and it tripped me out because I don’t remember it, I don’t remember feeling pain or not being able to breath, just blam I awake to this shit. So the doctor takes the tube out. Informs my ive been in a coma for three days and that I am on the icu floor. They wanted to know if I tried to kill myself and I said no..i had this really bad pain in my ribs and I asked them if they broke ribs doing cpr, they said no and I said I need something for the pain. They gave me percs and they did not work , I told them they weren’t working and that im an ex junky and pain meds affect me differently. They said they weren’t gong to give me anything more then the percs. I get it, I’m on a drug overdose asking for pain meds. But damn I was in pain. They kept bringing me pers every 4 hours but it was doing nothing. At one point I told the doctor that if they didn’t give me something for the pain I was going to walk out of the hospital and call 911 and go to a different hospital. At this point the doc ordered an mri. I got that done and a couple doctors came to my room to inform my that I had blood clots lodge in my lungs, they called it pulmonary embolism. And its very serious. So at that point they put me on the cardiac floor in a room by myself hooked up to all sorts of machines. I had multiple ivs in my arms and hands and they had me watch a movie on the condition I had. The machine behind me was an ekg machine and it was being monitored by a group of nurses in  a room down the hall. There were many people on this floor that all had heart problems or issues like me. People die up here on the regular. So I was being monitored. The machine behind me kept beeping and beeping so I told the nurse to turn that god damn thing off. She did and I was so thankful. In the beginning the nurses were coming in my room at all hours giving me medication through these ports that I had in me in three spots. Some were blood thinners some were antibiotics and other stuff. But they were giving me my pain meds orally. And now that they knew I wasn’t lying about the pain they bumped my meds up to dilaudid every 4 hours. I was happy. Only one thing could be better. And so I made it a reality. I got up and fished out one of the screws on syringes they were using to give me my meds through the ports in my arm and when they would give me my pain meds I would cheek them and when they left, I would break them down with water and bang them. It was great, no needle poke, just blam. Straight main line, no need to register nothing. I was living large on the farm one day a friend came to see me. She was a crankster and was concerned about me. She stayed for a while and brought her goods with her just like she always does. She asked if it was cool to smoke in the room and I said yes. She offered me some and at first, I said no. but then I said fuck it. I got some from her and added water and broke out my screw on syringe that I had under my left side of the bed and shot it up. About 45 seconds later 3 doctors came barging in asking me if I was ok, my friend who was on the couch across the room had to stash the pipe super quick in between her legs and her eyes were as big as saucers. The doctors put their stethoscopes up to my chest, they were getting my pulse. They asked me what happened, and I asked what they meant. They pointed to the screen behind my head, the one that I had the nurse silence days before and they said that my heart rate soared to 120 If I remember right. I turned my head to see the machine and it was the machine that tells heart rate, ekg,temperature, blood oxygen levels the whole gamut. I was trying to come up with an excuse really quick and all I could come up with was I was watching something scary on the tv. The doctors shook their head and said no that would not do it. They weren’t anything more to say and they left just as fast as they came. My friend let out a huge sigh and began packing her paraphernalia back in her bag and she said fuck this, you’re crazy and I am out of here. She left just as fast as she came too. And I was left in the room alone again. I sat there a chuckled a little.

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Tim

My name is Tim.   I live in suburbs right outside of Philadelphia, so obviously I used to go cop in Philly.   One night me and a guy I know(I don’t say friend because he wasn’t he was just some dude who introduced me to my connect) we were driving around waiting on the guy to call us back so we could go get our shit.   He finally calls us and tells us we could come grab some samples. It was a new batch of shit so he would always let us come get samples to be his test dummies.   The funny part about the whole sample situation is that we dealt with about four different guys and they were all from the same family so when one would call to give us samples, all four of them would end up calling for us to come grab samples.   So now we are on a mission to drive to all the different dealers spots to pick up samples.  We were on our way to the third guy when we get close he tells us to give him about 10 minutes.   We end up driving around for about 15-20 minutes till we finally meet up with him.  So we now have about 6 bags each because each guy gave us 2 bags each .   I pull away from meeting him I turn the corner and the blue lights go on behind me.   I’m in my wife’s parents car and I have a suspended license so immediately I think I’m fucked .   The cops come to the car they don’t ask for any of my information right away they just asked me what I’m doing in this neighborhood so I start trying to make up some bullshit excuse.  They don’t believe me at all and say just be honest with them and it will make my life a lot easier.  So me and the guy I’m with finally tell them what we’re there for.  We told him we were there to get dope.   He asked me for my license, I give him my license he takes me out of the car and walks me back to sit in the back of the cop car.   He doesn’t search me or anything he puts me in the back of the car with the window down and he proceeds to talk to the guy I’m with.  I’m listening and I hear this cop talking to the guy I’m with saying don’t I know you from somewhere and the guy I’m with says yeah I brought you on a high speed chase about six months ago down Cobbs creek.   So at this point I know I’m fucked and I’m going to jail so I reach in my pockets I pull out all six bags of dope and I just start snorting them as fast as I can.  I’m sitting in the back of the cop car hi as fuck just waiting to be brought to jail.  five minutes later the cop walks over opens the door pulls me out takes the cuffs off me and tells me if he sees me in this neighborhood again I’m going to jail. I couldn’t fucking believe he was letting us go.    I was happy I wasn’t going to jail but I was pissed that I just did all my dope.  So we got back in the car drove to the last guy who had samples for us and parted ways and we both went home.  I just wanted to share that story with you.  I love your podcast I listen to it every day and I’m gonna keep listening to it.  Stay strong Dopey Nation and Toodles for Chris!!!!!

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