Recently I spent 4 days at a hospital being detoxed off of pharamuticals at Shawnee Mission General Hospital, I won’t go into detail on what I was taking but let’s just say I have an ailment and can get prescriptions for almost anything I wanted, I became addicted and dependent on them. It started out slow 5 years ago after I discovered the pleasures of ambien and percocet. After a close call with an OD last week I found myself waking up in a hospital being forced to drink chunky bottles of charcoal in the hospital....ugh, the doctors didn't find it odd in the slightest that I had two different prescription sleeping pills and many other substances in my system. They suggested I see a therapist due to heavy use of these drugs and sent me home.

I came home from the hospital and laid in bed contemplating what was important to me and decided to flush my stash and asked my mom to take me to a hospital to detox me. I could have sold the items in my safe for 400$ but I’m not a drug dealer, I probably took 200$ worth of pills the night of the incident. I struggled to dump these pills in the toilet and watch my best friends twist down the drain; I had to resist grabbing a few out of the twisting water to make my first night in detox a little easier. I resisted. I can't begin to explain the feelings and thoughts I had on the hour long trip to this hospital, as soon as we arrived I almost changed my mind but I knew better. It took them 6 hours to check me in; I sat in a room with my mother during this time in silence.

After seeing several nurses and two doctors I was asked the same exact questions by each one and couldn’t help but wonder why they didn’t just pass my first analysis chart along to each other, I was already aggravated. I was finally escorted to the top floor by a male nurse, It was around 4 AM when I showed up to my room, I felt a little relief in the fact that I had a room to myself and most of the other patients shared rooms, I wanted to lock my door but of course it had no lock, nor did the bathroom. I was forced to stand in my underwear as a nurse charted my scars and tattoo; I prayed she didn’t notice the extra bulk in my crotch, my cell phone. I watched as she went through my things and took out anything that was "unsafe" but she left my belt. I questioned their motive as I was under suicide watch. She found a secret compartment in my bag that I didn't know existed, she asked me what was in there because she felt something.....panic struck me, had I hidden drugs in their while I was under the influence? I played it cool as she brought scissors in the room and slit my bag open, it was just wads of paper, I wanted to show my gratitude towards her for ruining my bag but I figured I should stay friendly with the nurses so I could have a better chance of sedation. She left the room and gave me a schedule of "classes" which consisted of mostly AA meetings....a substance I do not enjoy or use.

I roamed the hallways sleeplessly for about 2 hours until the wake up call came to the other drug addicts. I was given ativan at 8 AM after being up all night, I felt groggy and wanted to sleep but they made me go to class. At this point I was yet again aggravated that the nurses watched me stay awake all night and decided to make me take a drowsy downer, I did not want to participate at all and I was pissed going into the first meeting. I was in for a surprise. The ward was mixed with psyche patients and 40-60 year old alcoholics whose stories I had the pleasure of hearing a few times a day everyday of my stay. The meetings were dull and generic. I figured there would be other pill abusers yet I only met two others during my stay and only for two meetings. I sat and listened to the stories of these aged alcoholics and grew bored after they spilled their hearts out with hours of storytelling and crying. The stories were sometimes colorful but I grew tired as they all seemed the same. For the 1st half of the day I passed on my turns to speak....I had seen Hancock lately and decided to amuse myself by copying his act in this the end of the day they came back around to me and expected the same response. I spoke loudly and said "I’m David and I take pills and shit." Being the youngest by far I'm sure they thought I had more to say, I starred blankly at the counselor for about 10 seconds before he realized I was done speaking, I was briefly thanked for sharing and was gazed at by a man that could have been mistaken for Samuel L Jackson.

The patients made me nervous, they were shaking and feigning for a drink, some worse than others. The groups could have possibly made me lose more brain cells than my past drug use; we did activities that reminded me of grade school. Lunch came around and I tried not to vomit as I choked down what they passed off as food, I sat alone. I noticed the Samuel L impersonator in the corner gazing at me yet again; I felt a chill knowing my door had no lock. There was no security at all and only 3 nurses on duty....they spent most of their time on the internet or talking to each other blatantly ignoring the line of edgy patients begging to be sedated. They enjoyed being there less than the patients and were not afraid to let us all know this. I was giving random pills at odd times of the day and was injected with an IV to start detox. I became sick and moody, withdrawals kicked in on day two. The day was exactly the same as the previous; I finally grew bored and decided to liven up the group with my crude story filled with bad language.

Samuel was swept away by my story and to my dismay befriended me instead of molesting me as I had previously grew suspicious of. At one point in the day a nurse put in the wrong video about adolescence sex, the nurse left us alone in the room for the first time and the patients enjoyed my views on the hospital staff and the 70s video of staying abstinent. I made friends quickly with alcoholic pastors, wife beaters, criminals, and two drug abusers. I became the center of entertainment for the groups, I wondered to myself if the patients remembered that they just told the exact same story of their addictions two hours ago, some stories lasted up to an hour, the men that cried would touch each other in ways that refreshed my fear of molestation or abuse. The whole day was based around AA meetings and I found myself making excuses to skip them. I finally got some sleep courtesy of medication. I woke up confused and scared at 6 AM in a dark room with a needle in my arm injected by a shadowy figure, I sat up quickly and hurt both my arms as she was injecting something into my IV as well, I thought my concern of being sexually attacked was happening. She decided to tell me that it was normal procedure to do this every morning at 6 AM. I had no clue what was going on half the time and the nursing staff didn't seem to either.

I can only describe the detox process as this. Horrid. I was sick, shaky, anxious, drowsy, dizzy, and unable to if I awoke from a 1 year coma. The doctor who was in charge of deciding when to discharge me spent 5 minutes with me during my stay. I quickly angered the staff by asking them to point me to a person who knew what the hell was going on and could answer my question, when the hell could I leave? After seeing some other patients and myself I knew I never wanted to take any medications prescribed by doctors again. I found a slightly powerful counselor who I cut a deal with....which was send me home tonight on day four and I agreed to 4 weeks of classes and drug tests. I wish I could bring my stay in there to life more, but as I was in a daze I do not remember much besides being charged out the ass to be treated like Van Dam in his insane days. The point of the story is, if your willpower is not strong enough I suggest to never take opiates, uppers, downers, or sleeping pills....they can take over your life and they almost cost me mine. I can honestly say I will never go back to taking ANY of that shit again. Today has been 1 week completely sober from medications and I am proud to have checked myself in. I wanted to write this story as it was fresh in my mind but I must get going to drug school now. My Troll movie review will be followed by my outlook on the detox process of Shawnee Mission hospital. Don't do drugs kids.

Detox Works
The bed.
Samuel L Impersonator
A Few Good counselors
Cool Friends

Nursing Staff is horrible.
Chance of being raped
Random injections while you sleep

Overall if you think you have a drug problem or knows someone who does....I give it a 3.9 for Detox and keeping people in Sobriety.