My ex is an addict. When we first married, it was alcohol. He drank tons of beer. He is an alcoholic and an "alcohole" (see previous blog post here Alcohole ). He is also a smoker. He smoked about 2 packs a day when we were married. Half-heartedly tried quitting a few times, but it was more about a power struggle for him to keep doing what he wanted to do and enjoyed doing, rather than caring about his health or following doctor's orders.
Of course, due to decades of smoking, he was diagnosed with emphysema and COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, for those who don't know what COPD stands for - blockages in the airways caused by inflammation and sets one up for chronic bronchitis and pneumonia). He's now 53 years old, and it's amazing that he hasn't been diagnosed with cancer yet.
When we were married, it got to the point where he would see a pulmonary specialist every 2 weeks. This was more about maintaining his supply of Percocet, than for him to get any real treatment for his lung issues. He never would use the nebulizer and albuterol that was prescribed to him, wouldn't use the Spiriva once it was made available to him, he only wanted Percocet and his precious Fentanyl patches. He had a quack for a doctor, and on the occasions that I would attend visits, the doctor would tell him he needed to go to a pain clinic, and there was nothing wrong with him that would cause the pain that he claimed to be in, but yet the doctor would hand him a prescription for 60 Percocet, 10mg each, and tell him "see you in 2 weeks".
His pain pill addiction was started by a trip to a doctor in Carrollton who is since deceased, who prescribed him 100 Percocet for some pain he claimed to be having. WTF would a doctor prescribe someone 100 Percocet in one prescription?!?!?!? (this doctor was the father of the doctor that was arrested for prescribing stuff to deceased wrestler/murderer Chris Benoit - I don't want to name the doctors here and would appreciate it if you didn't either)
At some point after obtaining these 100 pills, James traded his alcohol addiction in for a Percocet addiction. He went to church one Sunday evening without me, and apparently stood up in front of the congregation and made some statement about asking them to take care of his family and making it sound like he was gonna kill himself. I was told that he was surrounded by sympathetic church members, and a bunch of them immediately came out to the house with him to have a conversation with me about his problem. As if I didn't already know. The pastor offered to help get him into rehab, a Christian one, and James agreed. The church offered to pay half for the 6 week program, and we could make payments that fit our budget for our half, or the church would pay all the costs for the 4 month program. James seemed keen to go, wanting to salvage our marriage and his health, until he found out that he couldn't smoke, or take his precious Xanax. He would only be allowed to take medically necessary medications, such as for blood pressure, diabetes, etc., and not anything for his nerves or pain, and smoking wasn't permitted. There was that, plus he didn't want to be in debt for half the cost of the shorter program, and he didn't want to be away from home for 4 months (and honestly that would have been extremely hard on me, having to deal with the 2 kids, and working with such a long commute to work at the time).
But I know, ultimately, the real reason was he didn't want to give up his precious drugs. That was the real reason he didn't want to go to a pain clinic, too - he was so afraid they would insist that he try to live without narcotics, and use other non-narcotic medications, and exercises and lifestyle changes to help his phantom pain. I say phantom pain, because every doctor I went to with him, told him there was no reason for him to be in pain. (and yes, I know many times there are afflictions that people have that cause pain, that are extremely hard to diagnose, but he was checked for all those things and had none of the indicators for any of them - no signs of arthritis, blood work all normal for things like fibromyalgia, etc.).
He would come up with bogus reasons to go to the emergency room - fell down the stairs because the cat tripped him (this excuse happened multiple times - the last time he tried it I was home and knew for a fact the cat didn't trip him - we stayed home and he pouted because I busted him in a lie), fell on something at a store, one time he claimed he burned his arm - I happened to look outside the kitchen window as he was squirting lighter fluid onto the grill and it flamed up, singed the hair on his arm, and he claimed he was burned. His skin wasn't even red. He carried on so much the kids were screaming at me to take him to the ER, so I did and they looked at him and told him he didn't even have a first degree burn.
Anyways the reason to go to the ER was to try to get a shot of Demerol and maybe some take home Percocet. One year he went to the ER 17 times. Yes, SEVENTEEN times! In 12 months!!!
Since we've gotten divorced, I've been told that Dr. Quack has since lost his ability to prescribe narcotics, and James was forced to go to a pain clinic to keep his precious drugs. I've been told that he gives them away or sells them, and that he fails his drug tests at the clinic because he doesn't have the appropriate levels of the drugs in his system, and now I've been told that he "lost his pain pills", meaning that the pain clinic is now refusing to prescribe them to him anymore due to non-compliance.
And now he's saying he wants to go live in a nursing home so he can get his pain meds back. Really?!? As if he could get admitted to a nursing home and convince them to give him pain meds for imaginary medical conditions. He should be careful - they may admit him into a psych ward, which is probably not a bad idea, considering his delusions about having mafia connections and the like.
I get my info from his son that lives with him, and son if you're reading this - your father is playing you. I know his health is not that great, considering the emphysema and COPD that he's living with, but he does absolutely NOTHING to help himself. Still smokes. Most likely doesn't use his nebulizer or other meds related to those conditions. And I just don't see him being bad enough off to need to live somewhere to have round the clock care - if he was, the doctors would have already recommended it. He just acts in such a way to try to make people feel sorry for him, and he's a master manipulator when it comes to getting what he wants. He acts all pitiful and sick to make you feel sorry for him. Lays the guilt trip on you, and if the guilt trip doesn't work, then he aggravates the hell out of you until you give in and do what he wants you to do, just to shut him up. That's your dad for you.
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