Drugs in My Pocket (and I don’t know what to do with them) was a song by the Monks, a punk band back in the 1970s and ’80s.
At the time the tune was different and new age enough that lots of kids hummed or sang along, having no clue what drugs even were.
It was just understood they were bad.
Today though, there are plenty of drugs in pockets – a good number of them legally prescribed.
Opioid drug use has exploded in recent years. Initially most of this class of drug was prescribed to alleviate pain, but quickly patients became addicted.
The story moves on from there.
A good number of people we know are scared witless of such drugs. Despite major pain and the need for relief, they are worried sick about getting addicted.
In very short order they weaned themselves off the drug, but noted some crazy sensations of withdrawal – this after just a few days.
Unfortunately, others less worried about getting addicted, or quite happy to fly high, kept at the drug. In a few cases we know about, exceptionally happy people turned into addicts.
In one case, a real go-getter type of person ended up in and out of rehabilitation facilities after numerous overdose visits to the hospital. It’s hard to say where he ended up, but those drugs made a waste of a good guy.
Our local United Way has suggested this to be the public crisis of this generation, claiming more lives already than the AIDs epidemic.
Nasty drugs are made even worse when laced with carfentanil and fentanyl.
For many unsuspecting souls, such a cocktail will result in death. The crisis is proving costly too, for emergency providers and helpless families watching loved ones destroy their lives.
The big city is now here.
