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At Bully Hills Ch2

At Bully Hills Ch2

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Published by Thaddeus DeLuca
The journey continues; after a cursory physical & social history I was given SUBOXONE--bad idea.
The journey continues; after a cursory physical & social history I was given SUBOXONE--bad idea.

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Published by: Thaddeus DeLuca on Dec 21, 2008
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03/05/2011

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1DeLuca/At Bully Hills
Chapter Two-
Suboxone
 
It was time for my physical, so the nurse with the long corkscrew blonde hair ushered me tothe medical area behind the credenza, the wall between patients and staff. I entered anexamination room and was greeted by a large woman in a white lab coat. She was a pleasantwoman, a Physician’s Assistant—an ersatz Doctor. She explained, with a reassuring smile, that Iwould receive a cursory physical before being given
 something 
to ease my withdrawal. Hell, atthis point 20mgs of Valium would have helped, but I had no idea how wrong I was—whatdreadful medicine was headed my way. I was asked to stand on a double beam scale so that myheight and weight could be recorded, then the
PA
asked me to hop-up on the exam table andhave a seat. As I rested on the naugahide examination table my blood pressure was taken, after Islipped-off my shirt she listened to my heart and checked my motor reflexes. I hadn’t had a
 Patella Reflex
in my right knee in over 7years, and this afternoon would be no different.“No
 Patella Reflex
…odd,” she queried.“Told you it wasn’t there, hasn’t been there for quite some time,” I answered.“Let’s move on,” she guided the conversation.“I’ll need a urine sample,” the
PA
told me, as she handed me a sealed plastic urine cup.I went into a small bathroom and she asked me to leave the door open a crack while I filledit, so she could hear what was going on. I put the urine screen on a metal tray when I finishedand she checked the temperature on a little numbered strip-gauge.After my piss-test, I filled-out a long questionnaire about my Drug History; I checked off alaundry list of college experimentation, from
 Locker Room
inhalant to
Whippets
(N2-O). Ianswered “Yes” to having tried just about every drug except Ecstasy and PCP. I was given a brief 
 
social history that surveyed my proclivity towards any genetic predisposition toward alcoholismor Drug addiction. I told her that my paternal grandfather—Johnny Bones—was a jazz musician,who died at age 65 from a lifetime of alcoholism and hard living. He was primarily an altosaxophone player, but could just as easily play piano, vibraphone, and clarinet—all by ear. I wenton further to tell her that alcoholism galloped on my mother’s side of the family as well. Mymaternal grandmother’s maiden name was Limbaugh. The Limbaughs came from a long line of Hell raisers with desperate reputations, not so much the sisters, but Marvin, Rush and Denver allhad their own stories to tell. Uncle Rush was a former Marine who used to ride with the
 Hell’s Angels
motorcycle gang; he had calmed down considerably by the time I got to know him. I toldthe
PA
that it was actually through my maternal grandfather that I was a blood relation to theConservative Radio Talk Show host
 Rush Limbaugh
, from the Cape Girardeau area of Missouri.She just grinned and made a notation on her clipboard. Then she asked me to summarize how Ithought other people viewed me.“That’s an easy one,” I responded, “doesn’t give a shit!”“Hmmm,” she hummed as she wrote on her clipboard, “doesn’t-give-a-shit.”The
PA
spoke the words as she printed them in ink on paper, and with a stroke of her pen sheunderlined the statement for emphasis.“Do you have any heroes?” She asked me.“What do you mean heroes?” I responded.“You know, people you look up to or admire,” she shot me a quizzical look in disbelief.“Uh, yeah…Jaco Pastorius, a jazz bassist,” I spoke, “revolutionized the electric bass…a real
virtuoso
…played it like an alto saxophone.”“Never heard of him,” she never looked up from her clipboard, “should I have?”
 
3DeLuca/At Bully Hills“Uh, yeah-uh…he played with Wayne Cochran and the CC Riders, Al Di Meola, PatMetheney, Joni Mitchell, and Weather Report…put out a debut solo album the year I graduatedhigh school that put him on the map, a real Monster,” I continued. “I had just begun playingelectric bass in my high school’s Big-Band,” I explained, “he had a huge influence on my playing, tragic life though… spent the last few years of his life in and out of Bellevue Hospital’smental ward…Drug and alcohol problems…got beat to death by some bouncers at a sleazy cluboutside of Ft.Lauderdale…fucking tragedy, a real tragedy, he was only 35 years old when hedied.”“How do you spell that?” She asked me.“Pastorius, P-A-S-T-O-R-I-U-S.” I spelled it for her, “half Greek, half Cuban.”“And he’s your hero
how
?” She quizzed me.“Well, he was a genius for sure…but, it was like a double edged sword,” I continued, “he wasgiven so much…musically…but all his success kind of blew his mind out…he took it too far…Ilooked up to him as a bassist, yet his death was a warning of what could very well happen to meif I don’t kick this narcotics habit…it’s ‘gonna kill me if I don’t do something about it. Samething happened to my paternal grandfather, the booze got him…a really talented guy, but he pissed it all away…I never even got to know him really, he just drank himself to death while Iwatched as a child.”“That’s why you’re here now isn’t it?” the
PA
spoke, “to save your own life…and to get allthese Prescription Drugs out of your system…so you can begin to work on your lifetime of Drugand alcohol addictions, the past 30 years it shows here on your chart…and that’s a mighty longtime...I’ve got to give you credit for at least trying to do something about your problems, you’rea very brave man to face up to the sizable narcotics addiction you’ve acquired.”

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