I Use Presc<x>ription Drugs
Hi, my name is Epoxy, and I am managing a prescription drug habit.
Now that thats out of the way, its only a slight habit. I have crippling anxiety, and I always feel as though I'm battling to hang on to the ledge of reality. It's exhausting, or at least it would be if I would let myself relax. My tool of choice is ativan.
I had been on a low dose of ativan for five months, with my doctors advice to ween myself off. But life was a little stressful, I was traveling abroad to get married. In Costa rica, my oldest brother suggested we visit a local doctor to pick up some party supplies (hey, it may be my wedding but it is my vacation too.). I agree, but I feel really weird about this. I had a hard enough time asking for help from my regular doctor, or anyone else. There are many reasons this is hard for me, dealing with feelings of shame and insecurity.
So we took a cab early that evening to a little *****-mall with a doctors office in it. I was very nervous. I didn't know what kind of doctor to expect. I think I was expecting Dr. Nick from the Simpsons. Or some old quack. Hopefully he could speak a little english.
I was surprised when I walked into the office. The doctor was sitting behind his desk, chatting up a pretty young woman. The woman looks startled when we come in, and quickly leaves. The doctor stands up to greet us. He is young and gorgeous, with tanned skin and long brown hair tied back. He exchanges pleasantries to us in perfect english, and we take a seat.
"Was that your wife?" My brother asks
"No, no, a patient." he says. "She is severely anemic"
........'so much for confidentiality' I think to myself, and realize that things are done much differently here.
"So what can I do for you today?" he asks
"I would like oxycontin" my oldest brother says.
"20mg or 40?"
"40"
"hmm that may be difficult." the doctor said. "The pharmacies around here don't keep a lot of that in stock, it is a controlled substance. I'll give you a prescription for the 40mg and 20mg, that will probably be easier to find."
The doctor turns to my other brother. "And how about you?"
"Same thing. And um... Viagra too."
The doctor writes the script and turns to me and my husband. "And you?"
Great, now its my turn, after we have established ourselves as a family of drug addicts.
"ativan, please." I manage to squeak out.
"How many milligrams?" he asked. My my prescreption at home was .5 and I usually take two of those.
"One milligram?" I ask.
The doctor chuckled. "we do not have one milligram. Two or four."
"Two is good" I say, feeling like a touristy foreign dumbass
"me too!" my husband pipes in. I turn to him in shock. He doesn't take drugs normally.
We say our goodbyes to the charming doctor and set out to find a pharmacy. Our taxi didn't show up and it was getting late, and we were leaving tomorrow. By the time our cab showed up and we got to the city, There are a few pharmacies throughout a few blocks, but it was late and stores were closing. We split up... my husband and I going one way, my oldest brother going another way and my other brother going a third, with plans to meet back up.
The first pharmacy we went to was dark and a little sleazy. the pharmacist was a young woman. She didn't speak english, and we hardly speak spanish. She kept trying to explain something to us, but her tone was sad, even apologetic. She fetches another person from the back to tell us that they do not have that in stock right now, but soon.
We leave, precious minutes wasted. We find another pharmacy, and rush right in. The pharmacist looked over our prescription and gave us a curt "no."
The third pharmacy was bright and clean. The pharmacist looked over our presciptions told us that they only had enough to fill one of our prescription. Fine by us, and we gladly waited while they put several pill sheets into a box. Satisfied, we left and went back to the meeting spot.
We soon met up with my brothers. One found viagra, but neither could find oxy. Or so they said... one did indeed find oxy, the one who already had a problem with it, but he kept it for himself.
Anyway, the whole thing just felt kind of surreal. So different than the US. No jumping through hoops, being shamed or lectured by your doctor. Even though the drugs were easy to get in Costa Rica, theirs is a self regulating system. The drugs were rediculously expensive. A little more than what you would pay per pill on the street here, but at least you don't have to worry about getting robbed.
Now that thats out of the way, its only a slight habit. I have crippling anxiety, and I always feel as though I'm battling to hang on to the ledge of reality. It's exhausting, or at least it would be if I would let myself relax. My tool of choice is ativan.
I had been on a low dose of ativan for five months, with my doctors advice to ween myself off. But life was a little stressful, I was traveling abroad to get married. In Costa rica, my oldest brother suggested we visit a local doctor to pick up some party supplies (hey, it may be my wedding but it is my vacation too.). I agree, but I feel really weird about this. I had a hard enough time asking for help from my regular doctor, or anyone else. There are many reasons this is hard for me, dealing with feelings of shame and insecurity.
So we took a cab early that evening to a little *****-mall with a doctors office in it. I was very nervous. I didn't know what kind of doctor to expect. I think I was expecting Dr. Nick from the Simpsons. Or some old quack. Hopefully he could speak a little english.
I was surprised when I walked into the office. The doctor was sitting behind his desk, chatting up a pretty young woman. The woman looks startled when we come in, and quickly leaves. The doctor stands up to greet us. He is young and gorgeous, with tanned skin and long brown hair tied back. He exchanges pleasantries to us in perfect english, and we take a seat.
"Was that your wife?" My brother asks
"No, no, a patient." he says. "She is severely anemic"
........'so much for confidentiality' I think to myself, and realize that things are done much differently here.
"So what can I do for you today?" he asks
"I would like oxycontin" my oldest brother says.
"20mg or 40?"
"40"
"hmm that may be difficult." the doctor said. "The pharmacies around here don't keep a lot of that in stock, it is a controlled substance. I'll give you a presc
The doctor turns to my other brother. "And how about you?"
"Same thing. And um... Viagra too."
The doctor writes the sc
Great, now its my turn, after we have established ourselves as a family of drug addicts.
"ativan, please." I manage to squeak out.
"How many milligrams?" he asked. My my prescreption at home was .5 and I usually take two of those.
"One milligram?" I ask.
The doctor chuckled. "we do not have one milligram. Two or four."
"Two is good" I say, feeling like a touristy foreign dumbass
"me too!" my husband pipes in. I turn to him in shock. He doesn't take drugs normally.
We say our goodbyes to the charming doctor and set out to find a pharmacy. Our taxi didn't show up and it was getting late, and we were leaving tomorrow. By the time our cab showed up and we got to the city, There are a few pharmacies throughout a few blocks, but it was late and stores were closing. We split up... my husband and I going one way, my oldest brother going another way and my other brother going a third, with plans to meet back up.
The first pharmacy we went to was dark and a little sleazy. the pharmacist was a young woman. She didn't speak english, and we hardly speak spanish. She kept trying to explain something to us, but her tone was sad, even apologetic. She fetches another person from the back to tell us that they do not have that in stock right now, but soon.
We leave, precious minutes wasted. We find another pharmacy, and rush right in. The pharmacist looked over our presc
The third pharmacy was bright and clean. The pharmacist looked over our presciptions told us that they only had enough to fill one of our presc
We soon met up with my brothers. One found viagra, but neither could find oxy. Or so they said... one did indeed find oxy, the one who already had a problem with it, but he kept it for himself.
Anyway, the whole thing just felt kind of surreal. So different than the US. No jumping through hoops, being shamed or lectured by your doctor. Even though the drugs were easy to get in Costa Rica, theirs is a self regulating system. The drugs were rediculously expensive. A little more than what you would pay per pill on the street here, but at least you don't have to worry about getting robbed.
By:
EpoxyMonoxide
Age:
26-30
,
Female
