I had to turn my back on a dear friend.
She was addicted to painkillers, in a methadone treatment program, and taking an anti depressant or two. I could never get a straight story out of her as to what exactly she was taking.
One day her husband calls and says she is flipping out, chasing him through the house with a knife. The cops come, he says he is taking her to the ER. A few minutes later she calls, I tell her I will meet her at the ER, so I break several traffic laws getting there, thinking they should be there by now since they live closer than I do to the hospital. They haven't even arrived yet, why you ask? She had to put on her makeup and pick out an outfit to wear :shock:
I finally get to talk to her face to face. She tells me, she is having a bad reaction to some meds. She gets called in, we all sit in the room and the Dr. arrives. She promptly tells him she needs a shot of a certain med. I find out this stuff she wants is stronger than Morphine. I am shocked, he gives it to her!
About 30 minutes passes she rings for the D.r and says she needs more cause she is still hurting. He says no, because all the med does is take the edge off so she can relax and get some rest. She gets rather insistent with him. I loose it, and tell her to tell him the real reason your there. Cause you flipped out from all the crap you take and chased Robert all over the house with a butcher knife. She screams at me to shut up. I tell her ....when you grow up and start dealing with your problems and addictions call me. Until then I am out of here. Her husband follows me out of the room and grabs my arm. I glare at him and tell him if wants a to pull back a nub he best let go. He tells me, how dare I speak to her that way, shes sick. I go yeah she is. Get her some help.
She died two years later, of an overdose. Her Mother said a long illness, I think she said that just to save face in her group of friends.
Alisa left a beautiful girl named Megan behind.