TAKING IT EASY ON THE PAINKILLER DRUGS

You don't have to be somewhere outside Barstow to realize that small talk is
much easier and more enjoyable when you're on painkillers. I made that
discovery myself over the Christmas weekend. I was heavily medicated
throughout the holiday after having four wisdom teeth taken out on
Dec. 23. In my entire life, I'd never taken anything stronger than an
aspirin for pain and have as a matter of course tried to avoid taking
medication even when sick. When I had my appendix removed in the
seventh grade, I never popped the top of the bottle of Codeine the
doctor prescribed for me. The pills sat in my parents' medicine
cabinet until I threw them away one weekend when I was home from college.

Coming as I do from a family that has included alcoholics and gambling
addicts along with several charming and successful individuals (often
the same people), I've always been well aware of the addictive side of
my nature. I certainly didn't want to become the family's first dope
fiend. My lifetime fear of drugs was overwhelmed by my oral surgeon's
description of what was going to happen during the operation. I was to
have four wisdom teeth removed, all impacted, two having broken
through the gum. The surgeon told me he was going to slice into my
gums and saw my teeth in half before removing them. This did not sound
like something that would leave me feeling peachy. I resolved that I
would take whatever pills the doctor told me to. This turned out to be
a good decision. Judging by the pain in my jaw muscles days later, I
think the doctor used something like a rake to prop my mouth open
during the operation.

I remember absolutely nothing of the actual procedure. It seemed to
happen in the blink of an eye. One minute I was lying back on the
chair telling the nurses how relaxed I felt, the next I was waking up
in the recovery room. I'm told it went something like this.

Nurse: "You aren't going to remember any of this."
Me: "Yeah, right. I feel great. I'm driving myself home."
My memory is fuzzy about the whole thing. Thank God for anesthetic.
Back at home I diligently took my medication and didn't notice much in the
way of effect.

The oral surgeon did a wonderful job, by the way, and I had lamb for
Christmas dinner.

I felt good enough to go to several different holiday parties and had
an absolute blast. Everyone was shocked when I told them that I'd had
my wisdom teeth out only a day or two before, and they kept commenting
on how well I was doing. The fact was, I was on drugs.

The pain pill I was taking is called Lorcet. It's related to Codeine
and Percocet and OxyContin and most of the other prescription
painkillers. They are in the same drug family as morphine and heroin.

I know this because in my position as police reporter for The Pilot,
I've written several articles and briefs about unlucky souls who let
their addiction to pills drive them to forge prescriptions, rob
pharmacies and commit other desperate acts. I've written about people
who have died as a result of their addictions.

Even though I tried to be empathetic, drug addiction always seemed to
be evidence of some underlying weakness. But then I stared into a
bottle and saw only four Lorcets left. My first thought was that one
of my friends had stolen some. My second thought was that I could
convince the doctor to give me more during my follow-up visit.

The prescription was for only 15 pills, and after only two-thirds of
the bottle I was already jonesing. It was a little scary. Being in
pain, I eventually finished the bottle and the pills really helped,
but I didn't ask the doctor for more.

Or maybe I was too afraid. I didn't want him to break out the rake.