Oxycontin was never in his plan

He has the easy manner of an athlete who is not far from his prime but, although he is tall and rangy, you should not mistake an economy of movement for physical prowess.

His back went bad on him some years ago and, if you have had that kind of pain, you move carefully ever after.

And so, this is not about athletics. This is an addiction story. This is a story of Oxycontin.

Let us also give him a certain amount of privacy.

Call him Neal. He is a business professional who works in an office in the east end.

He said, “I’ve had back problems since I was about 16 years old. Things came to a head about 10 years ago. My lower back. There was sciatica down my left side.”

Does his economy of movement dictate his economy of expression? He surprised me. “Ask any woman who has had kids.” And then he said, “It stopped my leg from working. I had a herniated disc. The pain was off the charts.”

The pain was far enough off the charts that a fistful of Tylenol 3 did nothing for him.

“I spent seven weeks on the waiting list. I was in and out of hospital three times. They knew they had to operate, but there were no beds. They moved me to Oxycontin. I was taking three pills, three times a day.”

I repeat: three pills, three times a day, for seven weeks.

The surgery, when it happened, was successful, but at no point did any doctor tell him that the drug he’d been given for pain was addictive.

“After the surgery, they told me to wean myself off it — I was taking three pills, three times a day, so I should reduce it by a pill a day. When I got down to a pill a day, there were symptoms. I had the shakes. They’d last for hours. I had the sweats. I couldn’t sleep.”

He wasn’t sure what the problem was. “I remember sitting, shaking, at 4 a.m., just wired, couldn’t sleep, looking up my symptoms on the Internet.”

The closest description: delirium tremens. He was addicted, but there was no craving; there was only withdrawal.

“I lost 50 pounds. I was so skinny I couldn’t sit. I lost muscle, fat, everything. My wife would bring me a sandwich. I couldn’t eat.” It’s not just that he had no appetite. “If I ate anything, it would pass through me immediately. I was dehydrated.

“My wife moved out of the bedroom. I couldn’t bear being near someone in bed, there was so much pain. She understood that it was related to withdrawal.”

He is a lucky man who marries well. In the end? “I remember standing in the bathroom with six or seven bottles of pills, flushing what must have been several thousands of dollars worth of drugs down the toilet. For six months after, my mood swings were uncontrollable. No one ever told me that this was possible. They were just giving me stuff to keep me out of the hospital.”

It took two years after the operation for Neal to recover his physical form. He’s back at work now, happily.

“I’m not worried that I’d go back to using, but I’d be nervous if I had to take a painkiller; if I did, I’d probably ask a lot more questions.”

I remind you that he is a normal guy.

He wasn’t seeking thrills: he was hurt, and they gave him pills, and he got hooked, and it was just that easy; in a nutshell, that is why Oxycontin has been banned. Joe Fiorito appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. jfiorito@thestar.ca