Once An Addict, Always An Addict

After surgery I got morphine twice. That's the first time I have ever had morphine. The first time I was not there to object or consent, I was still coming out of the influence of whatever they used to knock me out. Later I could not sleep, not because of pain, but because I was afraid that if I went to sleep I would forget to breathe and die. It made sense at the time. The little philipino nurse told me she could give me more vicodin or more morphine. I asked which would calm me down and she said the morphine will, so I agreed to that.

I'm a little bit sore now, not bad, still taking vicodin, but it still hurts.

My body just said: Morphine would be good. Real good.

I was startled. I did not know I remembered what the morphine felt like. But my body does and it is hungry for more. It is actually quite scary how large that hungry feeling around the idea of morphine is.

Goddess, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.