Medically Induced
Breathing hard on the operating table, unable to comprehend the trauma of being clinically induced, with anesthesia. As I listen and look slowly over at the heart monitor, buzzing the nurse on call to give me something to drink and lunch made me feel uneasy.
Comatose and packed down with bandages across my head with tubes running through my thoracic cavitites, along with a sporadic respiratory problem while on high powerful medication.
Eyes rollin up in the back of my head, as I push the buzzer, doctors flew in the admission room along with a team of nurses. Why did I do drugs? Why did I have an addiction for drinking, cocaine and ravenous drugs? I just couldn't admit that I had a problem.
Long days at the detox center for substance abuse. This reminds me of the looking glass. For example; you can only see one side of yourself. And the other side you cannot see. My children whom are sexually active at 11 and 13 years old, with no prognosis of being pregnant.
Can you gain a sense of hope or normality? You have some type of stability on an illusive scale. I remember times when I saw my street doctor who gave me intravenous drugs taught me everything that I know. I think to myself how the world was so different back then.
Meanwhile; hospital stays, changing times and family feuds had me living in everlasting hell. My promise to get clean and rehabilitated was long winded, after a ninety day discharge.
What do I do or what do I say to the drug dealer and the street doctor? As he approaches me about some money I owe him. Oh lord please don't kill me! Please don't proposition me! Please stop the dramatic entrance to this one woman world that I live in.
Furthermore; I am medically induced with doctors and detoxification nurses. Let me take my meds right now. Oh God please help me, because I'm scared of what I might become.
STD's, shelters, and trash can food makes me run to the street man. Still having a family feud, where are my children Carmichael! He replied, they're at school! Okay Carmichael, I'm going back to detox even though they helped me before when I was drug addicted.
Meanwhile; antibiotics, methadone, and twenty three months of rehab gives way to a new life with counseling for my family. No more feuding or drugs. Because I have learned to let
This is a passage from one of my friends, about her experiences. I post it as is, even though it is not finished. Thank you to my friend for sharing her story.
Jesus Christ told his followers that he came to earth, "not to be ministered to, but to minister and to give his soul a ransom in exchange for many." (Matthew 20:28) He willingly gave up his life for the benefit of others. How did Jesus, by his death, provide a ransom? Why was this necessary? For whom did Jesus lay down his life? And what can his death mean for you?
Comatose and packed down with bandages across my head with tubes running through my thoracic cavitites, along with a sporadic respiratory problem while on high powerful medication.
Eyes rollin up in the back of my head, as I push the buzzer, doctors flew in the admission room along with a team of nurses. Why did I do drugs? Why did I have an addiction for drinking, cocaine and ravenous drugs? I just couldn't admit that I had a problem.
Long days at the detox center for substance abuse. This reminds me of the looking glass. For example; you can only see one side of yourself. And the other side you cannot see. My children whom are sexually active at 11 and 13 years old, with no prognosis of being pregnant.
Can you gain a sense of hope or normality? You have some type of stability on an illusive scale. I remember times when I saw my street doctor who gave me intravenous drugs taught me everything that I know. I think to myself how the world was so different back then.
Meanwhile; hospital stays, changing times and family feuds had me living in everlasting hell. My promise to get clean and rehabilitated was long winded, after a ninety day discharge.
What do I do or what do I say to the drug dealer and the street doctor? As he approaches me about some money I owe him. Oh lord please don't kill me! Please don't proposition me! Please stop the dramatic entrance to this one woman world that I live in.
Furthermore; I am medically induced with doctors and detoxification nurses. Let me take my meds right now. Oh God please help me, because I'm scared of what I might become.
STD's, shelters, and trash can food makes me run to the street man. Still having a family feud, where are my children Carmichael! He replied, they're at school! Okay Carmichael, I'm going back to detox even though they helped me before when I was drug addicted.
Meanwhile; antibiotics, methadone, and twenty three months of rehab gives way to a new life with counseling for my family. No more feuding or drugs. Because I have learned to let
This is a passage from one of my friends, about her experiences. I post it as is, even though it is not finished. Thank you to my friend for sharing her story.
Jesus Christ told his followers that he came to earth, "not to be ministered to, but to minister and to give his soul a ransom in exchange for many." (Matthew 20:28) He willingly gave up his life for the benefit of others. How did Jesus, by his death, provide a ransom? Why was this necessary? For whom did Jesus lay down his life? And what can his death mean for you?
posted by Howard Jackson @ 7:35 AM
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