Good Drugs

While I don't have much sympathy for Rush Limbaugh, or anyone else who has succumbed to the temptation to take medications they shouldn't, in the back of my mind there's the knowledge that ... maybe it could happen to me.

I've never been much on taking medication. I'm more of the "a drug is a drug is a drug" school ... however misguided my attitudes might be.

When I was little (5, 6,7 or so), I remember being sick and feeling rotten and being sent to bed with children's aspirin. After a bit (minutes, hours, I had no idea), I woke up, still felt bad, and took another dose of children's aspirin.

Later, I got the third degree about that. The Big Sister (who's 5'4'', but was shorter then) chimed in with her suggestion that I be taken to the hospital and get my stomach pumped. The suggestion was ignored, thankfully.

I don't know if that's why I don't care much for drugs, but I don't.

Now, when I was younger, I was thin. Really thin. I was 6'2'' in high school, and weighed 120 pounds. Really.

Since that time, I've added a few pounds, but no height. Still 6'2'' ... and a good bit more than 120. Heck, I'm more than 220.

One day, the ex-wife (she was the wife then) decided that she and I needed to take some Dexatrim. Against my better judgement, I went along. Being a good husband and all.

Bad idea, as it turned out. Of course, I told that story once before.

Still, Bayer children's aspirin and Dexatrim are over-the-counter stuff. And while they can be abused, it's not quite the same as abusing perscription drugs.

I never did abuse those. But, after I left full-time active service in the Army, I did some reserve time in Opelika.

One weekend, we had to put up a tent. Happens all the time in the Army. Apparently, not so much in the reserves. At least, not when reservists aren't actively participating in a shooting conflict. But this was late 1990s, and we weren't at war. That we knew about.

Anyway, the tent went up. And not everybody did their part to lift. Which is why it hurt.

But it wasn't that bad at the time. Or it didn't seem that bad. But two days later, I was in agony. Which is right near Opelika on the map.

Anyhow, I ended up going to a civilian doctor for it. And he gave me some pills. I don't remember what it was he gave me. But they were good.

Oh, they didn't make the pain go away. I was still in pain. But I didn't care.

I could drive. But I didn't care. I could function. But I didn't care.

And, after a bit, the back got better. And when the drugs wore off, I cared. But, as long as I had those drugs, pain didn't bother me at all.

Perhaps if the injury was more severe, I would have taken them longer. Or more than I should. And perhaps I would have been in the same position as others that have abused perscription drugs. I don't know.

But it didn't happen to me. But, somehow, if it had happened, I'm thinking I wouldn't have cared.

And that scares me.