Cocaine Addiction

Lance was one of a group from his school that had decided to be doctors. The five of them went to university and joined the medical school. Early on Lance realized that he lacked the ambition that he saw in others to get to the top of the tree, thought that being a humble GP would be enough to satisfy what he now could see had been more his parents ambition than his own. Although Lance daydreamed about other jobs, such as being a pilot, he was realistic enough to know that if he played his cards right, he could set up as a local GP and have an easy life.

This attitude meant that Lance didn’t spend too much time on study other than what was needed to pass, no swotting up to sound brilliant and impress the professors. Lance took the opportunity play sport, party and experiment with drugs. Using drugs of different kinds suited Lance’s laid back style. All sorts of drugs came down the ranks, out of hospital cupboards

Lance took it all in his stride, drank alcohol, mixed uppers and downers, the occasional hallucinogenic. Due to his youth and natural health he tended to weather it better than most, and by his final year had settled into a comfortable balance of alcohol and cocaine.

He took the view best not buy your meat where you get your bread. There had been a nurse in trouble for stealing drugs. He didn’t want to get tied into any messy situations like that, in fact he liked the feel of going out on the street to buy coke, looking kind of seedy – wouldn’t his dealers be surprised if they knew they were dealing with a doctor. He liked the feel of his double life, in a world where it seemed that everyone knew everything about you.

In fact, reviewing his situation, Lance felt he’d done quite well – his longtime girlfriend was a socialite, and very well connected. He started to imagine a surgery, started with her money, him dispensing medications with authority, complete with mid-week golf at the club where she had put him up for membership. He wondered if he could get by without more than a promise of marriage, he shied off whenever the topic got mentioned. He really didn’t like the idea of being leg-shackled to anyone. It was something he would deal with in time, and meanwhile enjoyed to the max his new found status in society as a doctor to be.

Getting the practice went without hitch. Each day he basked in the glow of success as he drove from his townhouse, parked up and strode into his consulting room. He had sublet to other doctors and was making a profit each week before he even walked in the door.

Lance didn’t feel it at first but after a while he felt restless and unhappy. Seeing another endless round of patients, writing out the scripts, and calling for the next made him feel depressed, somewhat bored – was this all there was to being a doctor. Lance felt jaded and forlorn – and Jemma was starting to reel him in towards setting a date for their wedding.

Lacking any real enthusiasm Lance relented and gave in – do whatever you need to do he said, I’ll leave the detail to you, made an excuse to leave and straight way called up his dealer.

Lance spent the next five years in a haze of alcohol, cocaine and the daily necessity to go in and see to his patients, even the birth of a daughter failed to arouse much pleasure – or dispel his feelings of gloom. He stopped playing golf and only went down to the club for a drink, soon he was up to a bottle a day and using coke to get started of a morning. He ended each day with a drink from the cupboard, and a small hit of coke.

Lance knew he was in trouble, but couldn’t think his way out.

Late one evening Lance missed his footing, fell down the stairs, ended up home with a broken leg. Self prescribed medications covered his sudden withdrawal from coke and a need to hide the alcohol shakes from his wife. His wife complained to a doctor friend about the number of medications her husband was taking, and was told it was lucky he wasn’t dead of an overdose, what did he think he was doing. He would come over and talk to Lance, see if anything was wrong.

Wrong with my life, exploded Lance – there’s nothing right with it – I feel like I’m a puppet, going through the motions, leading someone else’s life. Sure, once I get mobile again I’ll get off this prescription shit – boot up with a lovely hit of coke – I’m counting the days.

George was nothing if not a doctor with a good bedside manner, he stayed with Lance a while, and talked about addiction from a holistic point of view, telling Lance that he needed to quit or it was a downhill road to nowhere. I’m nowhere now said Lance. You’re a doctor – so save me, I can’t do it on my own.

That is how Lance got to be in an addiction recovery center in another province, with no medical people,  no one that he knew. A quantum leap into a vast unknown – no drugs, and natural methods that George had done his best to explain.

Enough, said George, you want too many facts – get in there, and start getting in touch with your feelings. I don’t want to see you again until you’ve completely recovered, and done away with your drugs.

A few months later George got a call – it was Lance sounding happy and proud – George, if you’ve got the time, you can come with my wife to the graduation. I’ve done away with my drugs, recovered from my addiction. Great, said George, I’ll be there – wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Addicted Doctors Article

Rodney, known as Rod to his mates, was a typical student who was full of enjoyment of life. A straight A ranking student, he had no difficulty with studies for a demanding double math major with physics and chemistry as options. He also had a lively sense of humor, enjoyed playing cards in the recreation hall. It wasn’t so much the money as working out the mathematical odds and probabilities involved at any stage in a game.

Rod liked music and played keyboard, used a synthesizer that produced big band and choral effects. Rod liked to put music to lyrics that people wrote. Rod also was the proud owner of a motorbike.

One afternoon in light drizzle, Rod spun out on the road, crashing the bike he broke his leg, that required two operations to finally set it right.

Rod changed after the accident, wasn’t so cheerful. He still played cards, composed music, but wasn’t as social, didn’t bother much with drinking beer, going to parties any more. Some put it down to the pain, some said it was more that Rod was angry that he had the accident, had made a mistake of judgment.

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Not everyone saw the streak of perfectionism that was in Rod, that had been dealt a cruel blow the day he had the accident and came off his motorbike.

After the accident Rod frequently became depressed, and resentful , often appeared sullen and withdrawn to his mates. The general opinion was best to leave him alone, give him some space, probably when his fractures had healed he would come back to being more cheerful, like he had been before.

But for Rod things didn’t improve, in fact as time went on he found himself slipping into despondency and gloom – he felt like he was “damaged goods”, no longer filled a self image of perfection.

The precise calculations and resolutions of math formulas that had previously delighted and challenged Rod’s thinking now failed to excite him at all. He didn’t feel connection with resolving math problems any more – his study times increasingly became a chore that he had to attend to if he wanted to pass the exams.

Rod took to playing his music, late into the night. Instead of focusing on his studies, Rod started going to late night parties, with people that were musicians. At such parties, he was offered coke, and tried a snort or two. He started using coke whenever he felt like playing music – it sort of amplified the effects.

see cocaine video

Somehow, slowly his studies in math started to play second fiddle to the music making machine. Rod lost his Triple A rating with the math department when for the first time ever he was late handing in a math assignment.

One day sudden anxiety kicked in. It was nearly time for the end of year exams and Rod knew he had not covered the coursework. Inspired, Rod decided to hit up on coke and study, and was delighted to find that with a shot of coke inside him, some of the old enthusiasm returned and he could study into the night, started to catch up on the work.

When it came to sitting for the exams, Rod felt he couldn’t trust himself – hit up with coke just before he went into every exam, and came out feeling fine, thinking he had done well. Every exam that was, but the last – Rod only hoped he had done enough to pass – a failure would mean that he would have to repeat the whole year.

He hoped against hope that he had put together enough answers to pass muster, even though the diagrams and symbols had been dancing before his eyes, and he had felt spaced out for most of the time.

Instead of joining his mates for some post exam time revelry, Rod got into his music, and played it compulsively, morning, noon and night. Using coke and playing the keyboard, Rod simply drifted away, no discomfort in his leg, not feeling much at all.

Rod didn’t shave for days, wore the same clothes, and didn’t eat. He didn’t have much to say to anyone who called around to visit him, and generally, they didn’t stay. Rod seemed to be on another planet, and quite content to be there.

The exam results were as poor as could be expected – and Rod had completely failed the last paper. This caused him to receive a letter from the department, asking him to discuss his options if he wished to continue with his studies first semester next year.

The music went silent, and so did Rod. He spent most days lying on his bed doing nothing at all except hitting up on coke … and staring at the wall.

His parents didn’t worry too much, when he didn’t show up at vacation. They assumed he was happy enough in the city, too busy to want to come home. They even assumed he had passed the exams – as otherwise they’d have heard. Expected they’d hear from him soon.

Perhaps if his parents had called, it would have given Rod a chance to tell them what had gone wrong, but no way could Rod bring himself to be making a call to them.

As it was the call got made for him, in the way that these things happen, asking his parents to come to the city, a need to identify their son – very tragic, a terrible shock – a suspected cocaine overdose. There would be his belongings, and the keyboard, for them to collect from his room.

Mindy loved her brother so much that she didn’t know what to do. He had married an actress, against the better judgment of the family, and now he was paying the price. Six months married, and a baby born – her brother’s actress wife had fled to the other side of the world, taking the young child with her, and it seemed, her brothers soul.

Mindy’s brother was in the secondhand and antique trade, determined not to be the professional something or another that was expected of him by the family.

Rebellion. If Mindy’s brother was to be catagorized then as a rebel it must be – but against what and why Mindy often asked herself. Why could Gerald not have gone and worked in mining, a bank, insurance or even business broking – why on earth the choice of being a downmarket secondhand dealer, with some knowledge of antiques?

And to take on board an actress wife, with no known social connections was really the last straw. It seemed that Gerald’s wife had expected bounty from the family, being Gerald’s wife and bearer of the son and heir. Gerald was virtually disinherited from the family long before he met up with Lo-La. Their marriage at a registry office, attended by friends, was advised later to family and only served to make family connections with Gerald more distant, and considerably cooler.

So, it was with some alarm that Mindy, after many unanswered calls, got in through an open back window, and discovered her brother, apparently dead, lying on a couch in the unit, that adjoined the secondhand shop that he rented.

Plus there was an awful smell, like dishes moldy and unwashed, in the sink for weeks, food ground into the carpet, stains of spilt drinks on the kitchen floor, mingled with the aroma of unwashed clothes.

Wake up ! Mindy shook her brother awake, he looked around aimlessly. Mindy accused him of being drunk and hungover. Gerald said no way – do you think I am like our father? I’m  depressed about Lo-La taking the baby back home. I need to sort things out.

I’m not on anything except I do coke, to try and keep me awake, keep the business going.

Anyhow Mindy,what are you doing, coming here. Shouldn’t you be at work, at the office, at this time of the morning.

Mindy said – Gerald, I wouldn’t be here,  if I didn’t care – I want you to be happy. I don’t understand what has gone wrong, I want to try and help.

To help me, or to help our parents to keep their life in order – get me straightened out. Gerald looked at Mindy with a questioning expression.

There’s only one thing that I need right now – other than more cocaine – it’s a ticket, the airfare to my wife and child. I need to be with them. Mindy was so sad, she asked how much it would cost – told Gerald she would get the money immediately, and something extra besides. Went to the bank, withdrew the money, and took it back to Gerald.

Give me a call said Mindy, when you get over your jet lag, and tell me how you get on, She gave him a hug and hurried back to the office.

Days later, Mindy was missing Gerald and drove past the shop. Unexpectedly saw a light on. Further prowling and investigation and Mindy was inside, confronting Gerald – what did you do with my money?

Gerald said , sis, I used it, used it all on cocaine. So, now your going to run off on me. Just like the family did.

Mindy felt betrayed – this was her brother Gerald?

Mindy went to see her father to ask if he would help to get Gerald into rehab – but his rejection was firm, and final – as far as he was concerned Gerald was no longer his son, his problem or responsibility. Gerald had made his bed, he would have to lie in it, was the final word.

What to do and how to help -  Mindy could not think. Going back to Gerald she told him that he needed drug rehab, and Gerald totally agreed. Encouraged Mindy said why not sell the business, make a brand new start when you have done rehab but Gerald said the business was worth nothing at all – best thing if I take it all to auction, cash up, pay up the rent and the debts – then go into rehab.

Mindy helped to clean up the place, get the stock to auction, She came early every day to look in the mail box. When the check arrived from the auction rooms, she grabbed it. Told Gerald she would cash the check, and pay all the bills.

Gerald said no, I want the money – It’s mine. No way said Mindy, you will  spend it on cocaine – you need to pay the bills, and go into rehab – that’s what we agreed. Brimming with anger and resentment Gerald signed over the check. Knowing he was not happy Mindy said – Gerald, it’s the only way – your going to have to trust me.

And so the bills got paid, Gerald went into rehab, the best they could find after making inquiry. Mindy was happy that Gerald was in a real rehab place, that would get him off drugs completely. She made contact with Lo-La and told her all the news. Lo-La was in tears. I’m coming back. I’ll see him she said. I’ve missed him every day. The only reason I left was because of the drugs – thank you so much for what you have done.

And Gerald said the same when he came out of rehab clean – ready to start a new life with his wife and child – said thank you so much to Mindy. Thank you for being strong – I could not have done it on my own.

Henry – the IVth – known as Hank to family and friends, had always been accident prone. By the age of 2 he had almost choked on a button, been nearly strangled by a harness intended to keep him in his cot. By the age of 5 he had fallen out of an apple tree and fractured both of his wrists, to the despair of his nanny who got the blame and had to spoon feed him like a baby for weeks.

Hank survived kindy and boarding school with only a few mishaps and eventually went to uni, and to the fraternity house of his father and grandfather before him.

Hank had his future all mapped out. To step into his fathers shoes, when his father retired from the business that had been in the family for years. Unlike most third generation sons, Hank’s father had kept the business in tact. There was really very little for Hank to do while waiting in the wings – except to stress out his mother weekends, by getting into extreme sports.

At uni, Hank caught the eye of a young socialite, who was determined that Hank would be the man she would marry – one day when he settled down, and didn’t cause everyone so much worry.

At school it had been alcohol and marijuana and as soon as he got to uni, Hank discovered that doing a line of coke was much more to his liking. Hank needed to be with people, liked to party, Hank got into all kinds of extreme sports, it seemed to meet a need.

The better Hank got at precision sports, the less accident prone he was. At one stage he was considered for a place in the tobogganing team at the Utah winter olympics, but dashed his mother’s fond hopes by preferring to relax with a line of recreational coke.

One weekend Hank and his mates decided to go to a rave that was some way out of town, located in an old barn. Half way through the night, some electrics shorted out – the entire place burned to the ground in less than 30 minutes. Fortunately, everyone got out, although not without some damage, Hank was taken to hospital with smoke inhalation, dehydration and burns on both his legs that would need treatment for over two years. Socialite Susie seized the moment, and moved into Hank’s apartment to help him with his recovery.

It was a difficult time for Hank, he felt trapped like a bird in a cage. Being an invalid didn’t suit his nature, so he used coke, became fretful and restless, made life insufferable for Susie – but Susie was a woman on a mission and wasn’t discouraged too easily. Hank got more into using cocaine to take the edge off his problems.

There was nothing that Hank could do to get out of his feelings of gloom. He couldn’t do any extreme sport, take risks, he wasn’t expected to do any real work at the office. With his father at the helm, everything moved to a plan, Hank knew that he was expected to step one day into his father’s shoes. His father was that fit and healthy, it wouldn’t be for years.

Susie started dropping hints about engagement, eventual marriage – good grief! As if he didn’t feel like he was trapped and married already. Hospital schedules, and doctor’s appointments, being organized by Susie felt like it was crushing him down, leeching the life from his body.

Susie stopped the party-going, and tried to get Hank into drug rehab for his coke addiction, tried to motivate him to do something better with his life.

Hank was obtuse and would not comply.He would have done something about it if he had not felt so exhausted. Sometimes he would just do coke all day, felt like his life was over.

One day, a party invite, Hank insisted, Susie consented. Just don’t do coke and behave yourself, is all that I ask, said Susie.

Of course there was coke at the party, and some of the group were experimenting with Planking – that Hank had never tried.   what is planking?

Some of the lad’s were on the couches, others were testing their skill on the 3rd floor balcony at the back of the house. Hank went out back to observe, while Susie went to the bathroom – she’d been feeling a bit nauseous lately and was thinking to go in for a checkup.

Hank meanwhile saw that Planking on the balcony might be the pick me up that he needed, so he lined up in the queue.

When Susie came out of the bathroom, she saw people hanging over the balcony, with their arms outstretched, heard someone quietly saying oh, no – and no sign of Hank.

Susie gave a piercing scream, collapsed upon the floor.

Upon discovering later that Hank had got hauled back, from nearly falling off the balcony, none the worse for the experience, Susie hit the roof – not only was he irresponsible, causing fear and worry, when she’d seen the doctor – he had told her she was pregnant.

Blurting out the news this way, Susie was suddenly scared about Hank’s reaction. But to her delight, it seemed to light up a fire in his eyes, that she’d never seen before.

Yes, he said, we have to get married, better for the kid, and I’m going to get myself off coke – no kid wants a junkie for a father.

Hank went to Narconon -see video and was able to graduate, free of cocaine addiction before he and Susie were married, before the child was born.

Hank still works for the company, will one day step into his father’s shoes – but one thing that Hank has decided is that – young Jefferson is not destined to be just another Hank off the rank.