Mar 8, 2019
4 min read
Near Death and Needles
I am a walking pharmacy with all the pain pills I have. At times I dump them all down the toilet and try to deal with the agony. Then the pain becomes so intense that I call the pharmacy and the delivery boy delivers the drugs to my door within a few hours. The migraines continue and the doctors put me on narcotics, saying they are habit forming, and that I am too young to be on them. In desperation, I go to an acupuncturist. It’s 1974 and…
