As you mature, your body grows what they like to call “wisdom teeth”. These four annoying little fucks sprout up every which way in the back of your mouth, two on top and two on the bottom. Their typical orientation is to push through the existing gums. They don’t really do much, besides crowd the other teeth in your jaw, cause incredible pain, and cost a hell of a lot of money to get removed. One thing I would like to protest is the fact they are called “wisdom” teeth. The only wisdom I can see gained from these little bastards is learning about the drugs the doc gives you to dull the pain once they have been ripped out. I’m trying to take what god has given me (useless teeth), and turn it into somewhat of an experiment.
By no means am I a drug addict, or ever intend to be one. But, on this occasion, narcotics have been prescribed to me legally, by a doctor, and taking them is beneficial to my situation. Being an avid advantage-taker of burned plants, and the distilled byproducts of plants, man-made drugs have never made a distinct appeal to me. Things that are produced in a lab to create any type of high just leave too many ends un-tied. Oxycodone is a pain reliever, used for the relief of moderate to severe pain from injury or operation. The drug is a substitute for Percocet, a commonly abused prescription pain killer. My goal was not to abuse the drug, but as a first oral narcotic at twenty years old, I planned to do some mild experimenting. There were no thoughts of snorting or injecting, merely just trying to figure out the buzz as it came and went. The “buzz” was not as I had expected at all, in fact the 325mg pills were mellow. My doctor suggested that I start with half a dose, for fear that it may be too strong; and I accepted this advice, but almost instantaneously let it trickle from my memory bank at once.
The pills killed the mental pain. What the drug actually does is shut off the part of the brain that lets a person know where the hurting is coming from. It is almost like dulling the blade of an axe; the pain still does its job, but your mind could care less. For me, it was motivating. It allowed me to slow down, sit, think, talk, and rationalize about whatever was going on. For some odd reason, the drug makes me focused, and incredibly enthusiastic about any work I had to do. From schoolwork, to personal work, to regular household chores, nothing seemed that big of a deal. Right now, as I type this, I’m about a half an hour into a fresh Oxycodone, and I can feel myself loosening up, and accepting whatever is thrown at me. As my parents walk in the door from work, all of their grievances are released, like any American household during these times. Usually, it bothers me, but not today, not with this drug.
There is now no question in my mind about why people get addicted to these little pills or any little pill for this matter. I think the cause for the addiction is based partly in the reason for distribution. If you’re given the pills to dull pain, any pain without access to the pills is amplified; mental or physical. The brain refers to what has been aiding it through difficult times (the drug), and somehow cannot get passed it.
Enough about addiction, it’s an ugly word. Sitting here, my face wrapped with some ice-holding contraption to reduce the swelling from my jaw, I just get frustrated. A considerable amount of money was given to my oral surgeon to remove teeth that I never even saw. The damn things didn’t even have a purpose, or maybe they did. My conclusion of using this damn narcotic is this: only use when prescribed. I am forever a fan of the natural lift, not the man made. In fact, I would make an argument for the substance of my choice, but with m particular situation, further complications would occur. Any other injury could have served as a beautiful base for a debate towards natural relief, but that is not the case. Wisdom teeth are nothing but a hassle, a potentially dangerous hassle if you don’t know yourself, and your drugs. Whenever I hear of someone undergoing the procedure, now I’m going to wish them luck. Not luck for surviving the procedure itself, but for surviving the hold of narcotics. Narcotics prescribed by a doctor to help with the pain when in fact they could do more harm than the useless wisdom teeth themselves, or a person can gain wisdom about the dangers within the man-made high.
By no means am I a drug addict, or ever intend to be one. But, on this occasion, narcotics have been prescribed to me legally, by a doctor, and taking them is beneficial to my situation. Being an avid advantage-taker of burned plants, and the distilled byproducts of plants, man-made drugs have never made a distinct appeal to me. Things that are produced in a lab to create any type of high just leave too many ends un-tied. Oxycodone is a pain reliever, used for the relief of moderate to severe pain from injury or operation. The drug is a substitute for Percocet, a commonly abused prescription pain killer. My goal was not to abuse the drug, but as a first oral narcotic at twenty years old, I planned to do some mild experimenting. There were no thoughts of snorting or injecting, merely just trying to figure out the buzz as it came and went. The “buzz” was not as I had expected at all, in fact the 325mg pills were mellow. My doctor suggested that I start with half a dose, for fear that it may be too strong; and I accepted this advice, but almost instantaneously let it trickle from my memory bank at once.
The pills killed the mental pain. What the drug actually does is shut off the part of the brain that lets a person know where the hurting is coming from. It is almost like dulling the blade of an axe; the pain still does its job, but your mind could care less. For me, it was motivating. It allowed me to slow down, sit, think, talk, and rationalize about whatever was going on. For some odd reason, the drug makes me focused, and incredibly enthusiastic about any work I had to do. From schoolwork, to personal work, to regular household chores, nothing seemed that big of a deal. Right now, as I type this, I’m about a half an hour into a fresh Oxycodone, and I can feel myself loosening up, and accepting whatever is thrown at me. As my parents walk in the door from work, all of their grievances are released, like any American household during these times. Usually, it bothers me, but not today, not with this drug.
There is now no question in my mind about why people get addicted to these little pills or any little pill for this matter. I think the cause for the addiction is based partly in the reason for distribution. If you’re given the pills to dull pain, any pain without access to the pills is amplified; mental or physical. The brain refers to what has been aiding it through difficult times (the drug), and somehow cannot get passed it.
Enough about addiction, it’s an ugly word. Sitting here, my face wrapped with some ice-holding contraption to reduce the swelling from my jaw, I just get frustrated. A considerable amount of money was given to my oral surgeon to remove teeth that I never even saw. The damn things didn’t even have a purpose, or maybe they did. My conclusion of using this damn narcotic is this: only use when prescribed. I am forever a fan of the natural lift, not the man made. In fact, I would make an argument for the substance of my choice, but with m particular situation, further complications would occur. Any other injury could have served as a beautiful base for a debate towards natural relief, but that is not the case. Wisdom teeth are nothing but a hassle, a potentially dangerous hassle if you don’t know yourself, and your drugs. Whenever I hear of someone undergoing the procedure, now I’m going to wish them luck. Not luck for surviving the procedure itself, but for surviving the hold of narcotics. Narcotics prescribed by a doctor to help with the pain when in fact they could do more harm than the useless wisdom teeth themselves, or a person can gain wisdom about the dangers within the man-made high.
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