I got married at 33 in the early 90’s to a nurse I worked with. I had a problem with hellacious anxiety attacks where I felt like I was going into shock and dying. My shrink put me on clonazepam. I started smoking pot on top of it. The drugs started to spiral out of control.
In 2003 I had quit my job to go back to school which wasn’t possible with the meds I was on so I dropped out.
my wife was an ICU nurse who ended up on disability due to her health. I had previously taken out a $250,000 life insurance policy with her as soul beneficiary.
One day she went to Walgreens with me to pick up clonazepam and hydrocodone. She watched me read the label on the clonazepam. The dosage had been changed from 1 mg TID to 3 mg TID. My eyes grew wide and as she observed me she said, “Score”. 3 days later I could barely walk and all my words were slurred. I got a call from my shrink because apparently that dosage set off DEA alarms and there was an investigation over the dosage. I don’t know why walgreens filled it. My shrink wanted to know how the dosage was changed. Apparently the DEA talked to Walgreens and it was determined that a female voice called in the prescription. My primary physician was a female and she denied she called it in.
My shrink had an agreement with my wife and I that I would get a safe and store them there and she would dispense them as prescribed. Very quickly she started asking me how many I wanted. By the time I got to the altered prescription she just dropped them in my hand like candy.
What saved my life was her leaving an oxycontin, (her own prescription) on the counter and I popped it in my mouth. She was so p~~~ed that she called group health to send me to a detox hospital in Seattle. At the airport she dropped a handful of pills in my hand and Somehow I staggered onto the plane and made it on my own. 3 days later I was so psychotic that I demanded to leave because I thought I had to get home and find a job. They told me I would be in for an unimaginable crises if I did this on my own, but there was so much stress about finding that f~~~ing job that I left AMA…I wasn’t aware of how far gone I was.
When I got home I had a feeling of fear around her. I asked her point blank… “do you love me?” “Love you” she said, “I hate your f~~~ing guts”. The next words out of my mouth were “then let’s get divorced.” I slept in the spare room that night and my pulse was about 170 and thready. She said, “You need some clonazepam, how many do you want.” I called my sister and told her what had happened. She said “We need to get you out of there before she kills you. I landed on my unsuspecting 70 year old fathers doorstep with a suitcase.
I was awake for 4 days straight… not fun. On day 3 I was laying in bed and started seizing. I could feel my diaphragm wanting to lock up. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t walk, call out for help or call 911. my jaws locked down so hard I broke a tooth. It was God’s grace that I didn’t die right then and there.
My dad hired me a divorce attorney which ended up costing me $10’000 dollars which I paid back. Fortunately I had no assets, no kids and was unemployed. I declared bankruptcy. I walked away with no equity in the house which she got of course… I got a dresser, tv, and a recliner and that was it. I had a piano there which was mine.
When it was agreed that I would go get a quilt that my mom made me, she didn’t want to give it up and called the police. They said they were there for a domestic standby. I got the quilt along with a restraining order against me.
I couldn’t go to the house on the day I was suppose to get my s~~~ and had to have other people go get it. She had left the piano in the rain for 3 days, bagged up all of her spring cleaning and trash and the unwitting people that went to get my s~~~ had no idea what she was up to. They weren’t allowed to return.
her attorney slapped a restraining order on that $250,000 life insurance policy which I couldn’t cancel until the divorce was final.
I spent 6 months not wanting to talk to anyone and sat on my dads deck and stared at the trees. I was told by the people at group health that my recovery would be similar to someone who had been in a major traffic accident. I still don’t feel completely right 13 years later.
She used to tell me that she would dose her patients with enough morphine to make them comfortable which would sometimes surpress their respiratory system and result in death.
The last thing she said to me as she dropped that last pile of pills in my hand was, “I just want you to be comfortable!”. I never spoke to the woman again.
Anonymous 2 years, 11 months ago.
