Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Haldol Part 1: The Retard Drug

              Just like every other summer Saturday in Gunnison, Colorado during my college years, I woke up and got some buddies together to go down to the river to go fishing. It was about 11 in the afternoon and I made the wise decision to hit up the liquor store beforehand to pick up a handle of Jack Daniels and some PBR. We made it to our favorite fishing spot before noon and sat to wait for the fish to bite while we consistently had a beer in our hand and passed the handle of whiskey around while talking about bullshit. Fishing and drinking have always been one of my favorite escapes from reality. I could just sit back and enjoy the fresh mountain air and scenery while everybody else in the world worried about their fucked up problems. When I have a fishing rod and an alcoholic beverage in my hand, nothing can bother me. All of my problems go away and the whole world can kiss my fucking ass.
               On this day the fish were actually biting and we were having a good day. One after another we landed rainbow and brown trout. My dog, Whiskey, was also having a great day running around in the woods and splashing around in the river as we reeled in fish to the shore. He loves playing with the fish as they flap around on the ground but his real treat is when we get home and cook them up and he gets a delicious trout dinner. The day went as normal as any day of fishing on the Gunnison River could go. We fished for a good 4 hours before we headed back to my house to enjoy our catch and some more delicious adult beverages.
               If you haven’t noticed by now I have a severe problem with drinking. Once I start I just keep going and going and going. I can handle a night out of drinking but when I start the day drinking is when I start running into problems. Once I start in the afternoon, I do not stop until bedtime which is usually after 2 or 3 am. When I get wasted I have no filter and will say whatever is on my mind to whomever. It does not matter to me if it’s my mom or a 350 pound bouncer. For some reason I think that everybody around me is my friend and understands me. Well, this isn’t the case and when people get pissed off at me I’ve been known to throw a drunken punch at people no matter what the consequences are. I know I have a problem and I don’t really give a fuck what people think about me. I have come to accept the fact that I am an alcoholic and do stupid shit all the time. You either think I’m fucking hilarious and love me or you think I’m the biggest dickhead alive and hate me. Even my good friends think I am a dickhead but they are still me friends for a reason. I wake up, apologize and we laugh and talk about my ridiculous actions from the night before. It adds a little excitement to our otherwise boring lives.
               With that being said, we cooked up our delicious fish from earlier in the day and drank ourselves stupid at my house. In our drunken stupor we decided to hit up the downtown Gunnison bars. We headed out on our bikes and probably hit up just about all of the four bars in downtown Gunnison. This could have been because we got kicked out of them for being too drunk or just because we were getting bored easily. I suspect that we were just getting bored at the places that we were because just about every bartender knew me in Gunnison and they were all pretty fair to me as I was to them. I’m only a dickhead to people that deserve it and piss me off. Well, usually anyway.
               On this particular night I would have kicked us all out. I can only imagine how ridiculous all of us were acting as we were drinking like 400 pound offensive linemen in a frat house, whiskey drinking competition. Somehow though, we never got kicked out of anywhere that I know of and ended up closing down the bar. Oddly enough, we ended up at Timbers which is what I like the call the jock bar in Gunnison. This is where all the assholes in town go to drink and pick up skanky bitches. Needless to say, I don’t fucking like this place. I much prefer the cocaine bar called the ‘Mo where you can punch the bartender in the face and come in the next night and apologize and start drinking again.
From what I’m told we left the bar as they were closing down and hopped on our bikes for the little more than a mile ride to my house. I say from “what I’m told” because I don’t remember and I have no fucking clue how my friends remembered either. My friend Frazier was ahead of me on the bike and as we were about a block and a half from the bar he looks back and sees me lying out on the sidewalk, wrecked on the side of Highway 50. As he turned around to make sure I was alright, he says that I was knocked out cold making strange wheezing sounds while foaming at the mouth. Some other concerned citizen stopped and called an ambulance while Frazier frantically tried to wake me up to get the fuck out of there before we were surrounded by cops and paramedics. Unluckily, I did not wake up until I was strapped down in a gurney in the ambulance.
               If you know me at all, you know that I fucking hate hospitals and think our healthcare system isn’t about healthcare at all. It’s all about money and its fucking bullshit. I know how much a one mile trip in an ambulance costs and I refuse to pay for that shit. I always refuse medical treatment unless I know for a fact that I need it. Being in the drunken state that I was in, instead of asking politely to let me go I flipped the fuck out and told them to let me the fuck out of the ambulance. When they didn’t comply I went bat shit crazy on these assholes. When you put me in a situation that I have no control over, I will do whatever it takes to piss you the fuck off.  I will spit in your face, talk about your mother and children, WHATEVER it takes to piss you off. Because, hey, your pissing me off by not letting me go so why should I respect you in the least bit? Don’t give me this shit about them being authority figures or whatever it is you are thinking. These are assholes trying to make money and make your life difficult. I was now awake which means I am fine so let me the fuck go.
               When I got to the hospital they had called a police officer in to protect the hospital staff from my spitting and verbal assaults. This didn’t help matters much because at first sight of the cop I thought I was going to jail. When I go to jail I do the same thing and rip the cop involved a new asshole. At some point my anger turned into sadness and I started crying and whining like a fucking pussy about how I didn’t want to go to jail, my life sucks, blah, blah, blah. I guess after being arrested as much as I have, I decided that enough was enough. Going to jail sucks and at that point of my life I thought I was over all of that shit in my life so I was a sad motherfucker. Sometime during my drunken, pussy cries about not wanting to go to jail my buddies Frazier and Cody showed up to the hospital to check on me. I guess the hospital staff and police officer talked to them about trying to get me to calm down. They tried their best to get me to stop being a pussy and crying but I wasn’t having it. I was balling my eyes out and whining like a bitch about how I didn’t want to go to jail and shit. My friends kept telling me that I wasn’t going to go to jail if I calmed down but I didn’t believe them at all. I’ve been around long enough to know that cops will use words to get something they want and then stab you in the back and send you to the clink. So that shit certainly wasn’t working for them but at some point I woke up from a deep sleep. My friends were gone and there was nobody in my hospital room. Finally a nurse came in to check on me and saw that I had sobered up and calmed down. She asked the police officer, whom I am certain was questioning his career path at this point, to remove my hand cuffs. I bet that’s how this dude envisioned his Saturday night, watching over the biggest drunk asshole he has probable ever seen.  
               So the handcuffs are off and the doctor comes in to check on me. I’m still not really cooperating but I know that there is only one way to get out of this, just suck it up and do what they ask. I answer questions as vaguely as possible while still giving an impression that I am cooperating. He tells me that he is keeping me overnight and I plead with him to let me go because I have a dog at home by himself which was a lie. It isn’t working and he leaves the room. So I am sitting there watching the time pass when I get the urge for a cigarette. I am no longer restrained to the bed so I just get up in my hospital gown and search my room for my cigarettes. I found them in my jean pockets where the rest of my property was and make my way to sneak a cigarette outside. As I am about halfway through with my cigarette the doctor comes out all pissed off yelling “you CAN NOT leave! You need to get back in the room RIGHT NOW!” I really wasn’t trying to leave and kindly explain to him that I just wanted a cigarette and would be right in. He tells me to hurry up and get back inside ASAP. At this point, I realize that there is nothing stopping me from leaving so when the door shuts I take the fuck off down the road barefooted, in my hospital gown running in 20 degree (nighttime Gunnison summer temperature) weather to my house about 2 miles away. The whole time I am sprinting I am thinking that any second that a cop is going to pull up and throw me in the car for a trip back to the hospital and I am going to get an escape charge and be in a shit ton of trouble. For some reason, probably because they had enough of me, it never happened and I made it home to sleep in my own bed.
               The next day I felt like shit! My muscles were tense and all I wanted to do was sleep. I just figured that I was severely hung-over but it really was a different feeling than that. I just wrote it off as a hangover though and slept the day and night away.
               The day after that was even worse so I decided that the best thing to do was to smoke a bowl. This was not a good idea at all as it made my muscles even tighter. I kept trying to fight the muscle tension off until there was nothing I could do. My neck was creaking to the side and my arms were forcing my wrist to my chest in what I can only describe as retard mode. I had no control over these movements and started to get really scared. I thought that I had maybe hit my head hard enough to knock some shit loose up there and I was going to be stuck in retard mode for the rest of my life. I kept fighting and fighting to get back to normal to no avail. This was serious and I had no choice but to go back to the hospital that I had successfully escaped 2 days earlier.
               I woke my roommate up who was just as scared as me and he dropped me off at the hospital. I was seen right away because I looked like a fucking retard with my arms to my chest and my head creaked to the side. The same fucking doctor walks in and doesn’t seem too concerned at all. I told him I was sorry but he needed to fucking fix me because I thought I was stuck like this forever. All he told me was “Son, you were out of control the other night so we had to shoot you up with some drugs to calm you down. You are having an allergic reaction to those drugs but we will get you some Benadryl and get you all fixed up”. “WHAT IN THE FUCK DID YOU GIVE ME???” I angrily ask. “Haldol, an anti-psychotic drug”. The only thing I am thinking is that he needs to fucking get me out of retard mode and it was only after that I realized how fucked up this was. He gave me 2 IV’s of Benadryl and I slowing began to have control of my body again. I picked up my property that I had left behind after my escape and got the fuck out of there. I was fucking angry but just happy to not be stuck in retard mode for the rest of my life. That shit scared the fuck out of me but this wouldn’t be the last time that I have been given this incredibly immoral and should-be illegal drug.
               For years I got collection calls trying to collect on this $8,000+ hospital bill. I wasn’t going to pay those assholes anyway but i certainly wasn’t going to pay them after they purposely poisoned me. Only in America can someone that you are supposed to trust with your life, kidnap you, poison you and then send you an $8000+ bill.
To make it perfectly clear, I did not have an allergic reaction to Haldol but these are symptoms for everyone. It is given to people in the prison system who act out and schizophrenics. 

The closest picture i could find of "retard mode". You PC faggots can go fuck yourself!

  





28 comments:

  1. lol that was a long story! but well worth the reading

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  2. long story but that is harsh man. the system is messed up. :(

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  3. interesting read, but you are a little too angry about this... When you drink and crash your bike because you were too shitfaced to remember your own name, something is seriously wrong with you. You were obviously a danger to anyone walking near that road, and when someone is a danger to society, law enforcement is obliged to detain them. The reaction to the haldol would have been mitigated immediately had you just stayed at the hospital. They were also justified in giving you the haldol. When you are detained for committing a crime (driving your motorcycle while under the influence...) and you go crazy and start swearing at people and trying to hit them, they have no choice but to tranquilize you. If you were showing psychotic symptoms, then this was, sadly, the right thing to do in that situation.

    I'm sorry to sound so confrontational, but you need to let go of the anger and admit to all of the things you did wrong that night. The things that happened to you are a direct result of bad choices made on your part. You need to stop feeling like a victim and admit that you did something wrong, and man up to it.

    Don't get me wrong, I don't hate you. I tend to be empathetic, so I actually would really like to hear how you're dealing with your alcoholism. My girlfriend recently lost her grandfather because he was an alcoholic and his liver was fried. You are obviously a smart guy, so you should channel your intelligence into something more creative. If that means you need to admit yourself to some sort of treatment, then you need to accept that.

    Think about life in ten years if you get clean. Now think about your life in ten years if your problems just keep getting worse.

    It's hard. But sometimes if you want to be happy, you need to make some hard decisions and subject yourself to undesirable circumstances.

    I know that I don't know you, but regardless, I have concern for you. Keep me posted on what happens. I know you can do better than this :)

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  4. Hilarious to read. Followed for more escapades.

    Nice to see your dog named after your favorite thing =D

    But you should be careful drinking so much!

    Hit me up at:
    www.riotoflegends.blogspot.com

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  5. Try not to be such an angry person youll enjoy life far more

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  6. interesting, not bad not bad lol

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  7. hella fucking funny. retard mode... hahahaha laughed for days

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  8. LOL !! Long ass story but worth it !
    Followed.

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  9. Long story, lay off the alcohol! Haha.

    Following and supporting!

    Garage Zoku

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  10. Absolutely ridiculous, every aspect of the story.

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  11. That was a very long post @_@ Worth the read though.

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  12. finally done with reading. strange story ... next time just dont drink so much alcohol

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  13. following for more great stories ;)

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  14. Well worth the read, following, nice post.

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  15. Glad to see that someone is still really writing! Now is that all true, or was there some embellishment? Either way, I'm looking forward to more!

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  16. try AA and using some paragraphs :>

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