Let's just get this out of the way. I'm an opioid addict. I didn't start because I was looking for thrills. I started because I was in a car wreck some years ago and broke my back. So for pain management, my Dr. gave me everything under the sun. Started me off with Lortab 5/500, went to 7.5/500, then 10/500, and finally ended up with oxycodone 30mg (blue A/215 Roxy). Needless to say, after my back had healed to 100% I was hooked. So I told my Dr that I was still experiencing intense pain in my lower back all the time. I actually was in pain all the time but it was nowhere near as bad as I made out. So my Dr. continued to give me monthly prescriptions for Lortab 10/500 (that's gone to norco 10/325 because the wonderful Lortab 10/500, you know, the Watson 540 is no longer made). At first my monthly script was for 30, then 60, then 90, eventually to 180. Needless to say, the script never lasted a full month. At first I was OK. Maybe 2 a day, then 4, then 6, then 10, then 15, up to about 25 to 30 pills a day.
I was spending anywhere from 40 to 80 bucks on pills daily. Well, I'm not rich, I had a job and still do, but I didn't make enough money to support myself and my habit. So I sold my belongings. Electronics first, then clothes, shoes, furniture, etc. When I ran out of stuff to sell or pawn, I started screwing over my friends and family. Anyways, one day while I was sitting on the floor of my empty apartment, (because I had no furniture left except the fridge and oven) in withdrawal because I had no money and no way to get any. I started to think about my life and what an asshole I had become. I'm a college educated man. I had a good job, I shouldn't be living like this. I had burned all ties to my family and friends because of the shit I had done. My life was pathetic. It was time to end it. So, I went to my neighbor's house and asked to use his phone so I could call my Dad one last time. After all, I didn't have my own phone because I sold it. So I called my Dad, in tears, apologizing for what I had done and for letting him down. He, being a parent I guess, knew something was wrong so he rushed over to my apartment. He had a key and came on in. I hadn't done anything yet but I was going to. He took me to a rehabilitation center where I tried to detox, however, I had been on the pills for so long that my body couldn't handle not having them. I started having seizures and what not. So the Dr. there put me on methadone maintenance. I take 50mg of methadone daily and I can live a normal life.
All is pretty much well and good. I've been pill free for over a year now. I've gotten new furniture and electronics for my place and, best of all, I have a relationship with my family again. The only problem is the methadone really makes me constipated. I mean I only go like once or twice a week and when I do go, it is the worst pain I've ever experienced. It hurts so bad that I'm afraid to go. I've tried everything; fiber, coffee, laxatives, stool softners, ect. It doesn't work.
Has anyone else ever experienced OIC and if so, how did you get through it? I could really use some help.
I was spending anywhere from 40 to 80 bucks on pills daily. Well, I'm not rich, I had a job and still do, but I didn't make enough money to support myself and my habit. So I sold my belongings. Electronics first, then clothes, shoes, furniture, etc. When I ran out of stuff to sell or pawn, I started screwing over my friends and family. Anyways, one day while I was sitting on the floor of my empty apartment, (because I had no furniture left except the fridge and oven) in withdrawal because I had no money and no way to get any. I started to think about my life and what an asshole I had become. I'm a college educated man. I had a good job, I shouldn't be living like this. I had burned all ties to my family and friends because of the shit I had done. My life was pathetic. It was time to end it. So, I went to my neighbor's house and asked to use his phone so I could call my Dad one last time. After all, I didn't have my own phone because I sold it. So I called my Dad, in tears, apologizing for what I had done and for letting him down. He, being a parent I guess, knew something was wrong so he rushed over to my apartment. He had a key and came on in. I hadn't done anything yet but I was going to. He took me to a rehabilitation center where I tried to detox, however, I had been on the pills for so long that my body couldn't handle not having them. I started having seizures and what not. So the Dr. there put me on methadone maintenance. I take 50mg of methadone daily and I can live a normal life.
All is pretty much well and good. I've been pill free for over a year now. I've gotten new furniture and electronics for my place and, best of all, I have a relationship with my family again. The only problem is the methadone really makes me constipated. I mean I only go like once or twice a week and when I do go, it is the worst pain I've ever experienced. It hurts so bad that I'm afraid to go. I've tried everything; fiber, coffee, laxatives, stool softners, ect. It doesn't work.
Has anyone else ever experienced OIC and if so, how did you get through it? I could really use some help.
