A Letter To The Doctor Who Got Me Hooked On Opioids
He held the power.
Did you know what you were doing?
When you prescribed me Vicodin with no instructions, no plan, did you realize what you were giving me?
When I called you two months later to ask if I could stop taking the drugs, why did you say no?
Why did you tell me I needed them, when my pain was reduced enough to manage with over-the-counter meds?
Why did you tell me I’d need to be on them indefinitely, with no plan to control the amount I was taking?
You prescribed me a high dose starting out. I didn’t know what opioids were; I’d never heard of them.
I was in pain from my surgery and trusted you to take care of me.
Why didn’t you?
You didn’t care about me; you just cared about the money you were getting.
Was it worth it?
When I called you in tears two years later, why did you shame me for being addicted? Why did you refuse to help me, saying you wouldn’t prescribe me any more Vicodin, but you’d keep me on the same dose?
Did you not understand opioids don’t work that way?
My body needed more, I was suffering. I hated the position you put me in.
I hated that you didn’t care.
The next time someone comes to you in pain, please help them. Please don’t prescribe them dangerous drugs indefinitely.
Please don’t do what you did to me.
I got off, but not everyone is so lucky.
Money is not worth more than a human life.
