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- Submitted by: charissa
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- Category: English: Creative Writing
- Date Submitted: 02/07/2015 06:10 PM
- Pages: 6
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Short story
Nobody knew how bad John's addiction was, until it was too late
this story is about my son, John. He died at the age of 31 after a three- to four-year-long addiction to Vicodin that I didn’t even notice he had, even though he lived with me during that time. He was a very high-functioning addict.
John’s teenage years were very trying, as he was drinking and smoking pot almost every day. Calls from the police in the middle of the night were becoming common. At some point in his early 20s he toned down his drinking, as he got a promotion and he worked incredibly long hours. But he had a serious fall at work that injured his back. He was prescribed Vicodin and went for his physical therapy regularly. I was very concerned about John taking Vicodin, and when his therapy was over I asked him if he had stopped the Vicodin. As an addict often does, he lied and told me he wasn't taking it anymore.
About two weeks before John died, he started becoming ill. He couldn't go in to work, which was unusual because he never missed a day. He couldn't keep any food down, and he couldn't even read or write anymore, which I discovered from his boss, who was also very concerned. John's addiction was now affecting every part of his life. I did notice he started isolating himself, did not visit his family, quit, and stopped going out with his friends.
One morning John pounded on my bedroom door doubled over in pain and begged me to take him to the hospital. He was diagnosed with pancreatitis, but lied to the doctor about his drug use. When I went home to get some things for him, I found literally hundreds of empty little pill stashed all over in his room. I also found what he titled his "Drug Schedule." He was taking 30 to 40 pills a day.
On October 4, 2008, John went into cardiac arrest while he was still in the hospital—the day before he was scheduled to be discharged. This led to his being put on life support, which is a shocking thing to see, and prepped to be...
Nobody knew how bad John's addiction was, until it was too late
this story is about my son, John. He died at the age of 31 after a three- to four-year-long addiction to Vicodin that I didn’t even notice he had, even though he lived with me during that time. He was a very high-functioning addict.
John’s teenage years were very trying, as he was drinking and smoking pot almost every day. Calls from the police in the middle of the night were becoming common. At some point in his early 20s he toned down his drinking, as he got a promotion and he worked incredibly long hours. But he had a serious fall at work that injured his back. He was prescribed Vicodin and went for his physical therapy regularly. I was very concerned about John taking Vicodin, and when his therapy was over I asked him if he had stopped the Vicodin. As an addict often does, he lied and told me he wasn't taking it anymore.
About two weeks before John died, he started becoming ill. He couldn't go in to work, which was unusual because he never missed a day. He couldn't keep any food down, and he couldn't even read or write anymore, which I discovered from his boss, who was also very concerned. John's addiction was now affecting every part of his life. I did notice he started isolating himself, did not visit his family, quit, and stopped going out with his friends.
One morning John pounded on my bedroom door doubled over in pain and begged me to take him to the hospital. He was diagnosed with pancreatitis, but lied to the doctor about his drug use. When I went home to get some things for him, I found literally hundreds of empty little pill stashed all over in his room. I also found what he titled his "Drug Schedule." He was taking 30 to 40 pills a day.
On October 4, 2008, John went into cardiac arrest while he was still in the hospital—the day before he was scheduled to be discharged. This led to his being put on life support, which is a shocking thing to see, and prepped to be...