Hooked on Recovery by Phil Valentine, CCAR Executive Director

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Phil Valentine

Hooked on Recovery is a message from CCAR Executive Director Phillip Valentine, person in recovery since 12/28/87, devoted husband, a father of five and just another surf fisherman. These thoughts, views and opinions reflect on his personal recovery and are not meant in any way to speak for the entire recovery community. He welcomes all your comments and suggestions on this column, email him at phillip@ccar.us.

2/12/11 “Nearly Snared by Oxycodone”

In "Take Your Medicine! (as prescribed)", I talked about how the influence of the recovery community deterred me from using pain medication that would have helped me. The same recovery community also helped me avoid getting trapped again by addiction. I nearly got snared by oxycodone.

My thirty-sixth and final radiation treatment was on the last Friday in July 2010. That Sunday, we were scheduled to begin our annual two-week Cape Cod vacation. My family went without me. I stayed at home to gain some strength before I ventured out. Mom stayed home with me to help. I was hurting. Nutrition came solely through the feeding tube. Cans of Jevity provided no levity. (Sorry about that.) Even though the Jevity had brevity.... Wow, I am way off track.

Looking good?
I did OK at the Cape. Looking back, I realize I was just a shell of a man, living in pain and fogged somewhat by narcotics. I didn't look well. Although people were very fond of saying "you look good." What's that mean exactly? It means you look like hell and they don't know what else to say.

FamilyWell today I am looking good. That means I still have a face for radio. Even though, seven months after the last treatment I still feel side effects. I have a dry mouth and throat. Makes eating difficult, not impossible. I lost the whiskers on my chin and neck. Also, I have this weird tingling and numbness in both feet, an after effect of chemotherapy. Sometimes, I swear my feet are freezing and I touch them and they're warm. What's more odd is a sensation when I tuck my chin down into my chest. A buzzer goes off at the base of my spine, like a cell phone on vibrate against my lower back. That is a result of the radiation. It's called some kind of "syndrome" (I can't remember the name). All these are physical side effects, things I can deal with and are small prices to pay, considering the alternative.

I'm still recovering from the emotional ones. I went through some serious stuff. The treatment was super aggressive. Intense. And praise God, it worked. I didn't realize there would be so much difficulty after the treatment. Some part of me thought that once treatment was done, all I would have to do is drink a few large glasses of water, one good pee and back to life as usual. Wrong.

The medication-induced rollercoaster

It took a lot longer than I anticipated for my body to heal. But heal it did (and it is still). The pain in my throat and mouth finally became manageable, so I wanted to get off the pain medication, yet both my oncologists strongly advised going cold turkey. The withdrawal would be too severe. They advised a taper period. I began reducing the amount gradually. I would test myself now and then by trying to stop completely. One morning after several hours without the oxycodone, I sat on our family room couch and slid into despondency. I am not a despondent person by nature. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I was drowning in hopelessness. Sandy was really worried about me. She said, "Take your medicine!" I went to the bathroom, got my medicine, rolled out a tiny pill into my palm and held it between my thumb and forefinger. I eyeballed it for a long time. With a sigh, I swallowed it.

Thirty minutes later, I was smiling, talking, ready to go for a walk. That stopped me short. I uncovered the trap. It almost had me. One more step and I would have been snared. Isn't it amazing that a tiny little pill could make me feel so much better? Yet, I knew deep within that this too would be a fleeting feeling. I'd end up chasing it endlessly. Just like the despair and hopelessness, the euphoria would pass. Life on an even, elevated emotional level was way better than this rollercoaster, cyclical ride of being on medication. I longed to get back to emotional stability. When I described this to my oncologist he said, "Oh, that's the euphoric effect of the narcotic." Ya think? I tried to explain recovery, the danger, all that...he didn't get it. I needed to get off this stuff. I followed my taper plan and I did not deviate. Finally, the day came where I didn't take any.

Tested

During the first part of abstinence, I was full of anxiety, my emotions ran raw and my joints throbbed. It stunk. The power of the withdrawal is a strong indicator of the power of the drug. Yet, it was wonderful too. Because as I wrote in "Encountering God", it was a time I will always remember. When I knew I had taken my last pill, it was like a spiritual block was removed. God poured into me and transformed me, again. I am looking at life through a new lens. I'll explain this in more detail in future blogs. But for one thing, I am appreciating moments more.

My sponsor came over one day when I was rattling and rolling. He put into action the recovery slogan "move a muscle, change a thought" and got me outside, out to lunch, etc. We talked about passing a test. Maybe the test I passed was not so much the treatment for cancer. Maybe the test was not to mess around with the medication. Because it would have been so easy to do.

Thank God I had many deposits in my spiritual bank of recovery. All I had to do was make substantial withdrawals. I was in some very dangerous waters. Many people in long-term recovery do not navigate them safely. I believe the number one cause of relapse for people with long-term recovery is misuse of prescription medication. I heard the Sirens. I experienced the temptation. I appreciated the escape from reality offered by the tiny little pill. Yet, for some reason I resisted. No, many reasons.

Today, I have been more than three months without pain medication and have no desire, none, to take any. In fact, I have an internal aversion to it.

Praise God.

Hi Phil,

I’ve followed your column sporadically for many years now and I usually appreciate your frankness and self-disclosure. Your stories have probably helped and inspired many to take it “one day at a time”, especially when the going gets tough or temptation starts to affect their vision. Your expressions of gratitude, hope and faith are beacons of light to others caught up in the storm. Most of all, I think that you’ve given people hope for living life like God intended, without all the pain and suffering of self-destruction but with blessings, family, friends and a purpose for living.

I’ve learned that most of the pain and suffering an addict experiences is the direct result of his/her own choices. It’s like someone beating you up with your own hands (a childhood favorite). We just make the enemy’s job easier, and that might be the most difficult thing for an addict to accept. That he/she is responsible for the mess they’ve gotten themselves into and the mess they’ve gotta get themselves out of…, there’s no magic “pill”. So thanks for sharing your life with us and may God bless you richly for your generosity and ministry of hope.

Peace -
Mike

Powerful Phil, my blessing.

Gregg

Hi Phil—
Thank you so much for your blog, “Nearly Hooked”. Boy did it speak to me. I was an active alcoholic for nearly thirty years, an opiate addict for the last three. In my sixth year of recovery, vodka openly beckons, but the pain pills are sneaky. They tell me my body hurts. They MAKE my body hurt. They promise me that warm, floaty feeling, that they will medicate all my emotional pain. And no one will know, because vicodin has no smell. Scares the crap outta me.

I had the pleasure of meeting you at CCAR when I came last August for the Recovery Coach Academy and the TOT. Enjoyed it very much. I have since facilitated two trainings here at the SAARA Center in Richmond. Love it. I appreciate and respect CCAR so much. Thank you!

Hi Phil,

This was truly heroic on your part. We employ lots of peers and as you say, after surgery too many of them get stuck on the drugs. I wish the medical profession would figure out something better than just pretending it is not happening. It’s great to have you back. I hope you don’t mind if I pass around this article to others that need it.

Ed

Hi Phil,

Phil,thanks for the update and inspiring message you shared. The best to you and Sandy and family.

Regards,

Railroad John

Hi Phil,

Thanks for sharing and for touching so many people that are out there especially those that are in denial of this illness.

When we seek his face as you have it is amazing how he can take such pain from us and use this to touch so many others,

Thanks again, lots of love from here,

Chris

Your writings, journal, sharing your life your family-- joys and struggles--are an inspiration to us all.

Thank you so much for sharing that part of your story. I work in a residential setting for men and women substance abusers. Oftentimes not only in treatment but in meetings there is such a judgement when our people need to take medication... I love that you used the insert from the literature.
Happy recovery.
Maggie y

Hi Phil,

I really loved your last column on medication and cancer. It really touched my heart.
I would love to write an article with you-one from both sides of the coin. How meds helped you and how dangerous they can be unless the program is practiced while using them. "Seek advice from qualified people" (somewhere in the book!)

Thanks for being such a great inspiration to me and others.
Thanks,

Lyne

Hi Phil,

Thank you for you lovely emails. All of your stories are inspiring. Seems to
me, you are exactly where good wants you and you are blessing other by it. You
inspire me to want to do more.

Valencia

Phil,
As a Christian and an avid surf fisherman who has struggled with two terrible bouts (lasting years) of chronic Lyme disease and its sequellae of psychiatric, emotional, physical, relational, and social implications I found a common bond in your article written from the Cape regarding God and Recovery. I too find God when I am on the beach or jetty, whether at Martha's Vineyard or the shore of Rhode Island. Please know that I will keep you in my prayers as you fight this new battle. My prayers will not only be for physical healing, but also drawing closer to the One who allows each of us to draw our very breath while at the same time holding this universe together in its own delicate balance. He is certainly not a distant God, watching from afar. He is here amongst us...in our midst every moment of our lives.

Keep in touch if you like. I'd like to hear about how are doing.

Chris.

Hi Phil,

Thanks for the good cry that I am now having – alone in my office. I am truly grateful for you and all that I am learning about God’s love, life, suffering, courage, gratitude, and recovery from sharing in a small way in your journey....

Continued blessings, dear friend,

J.

Phil,

just read your writing... first response to the ending...'Amen'....

I cried right through it but then my valley has also been one in which I find myself saying ' how long - oh how long will this terrible grieving last'.... as long as is needed... all we can say is 'yes'...and keep on emptying ourselves....

thank you, my warrior friend...thank you...

Deb

Phil,

So well said and nurturing...for me and probably many others. RFPs and cancer...I must say I have heard a lot of excuses not to do a grant application but I wouldn't be optimistic about that one meeting a litmus test. Thank you for sharing your message. I look forward to others. Off to the beach for 2 weeks with the whole family. Looking forward to it.

Best regards, Tom

Phil,

Two immediate reactions to your incredibly “accepting” posting were: “Only the good die young” and “Only the strong survive”. After criticizing myself for being insensitive, I decided those two quotes were only starting points for you. You have fantastic strength and insight. You are prayerful, and usually humble. You have the wisdom that only comes from a thoughtful journey. You can do this and, yes, you will get past this.

My wife, Doreen, survived a serious battle with lymphoma eighteen years ago – only the first year was tough. So, I look forward to at least eighteen more years of your ramblings and insights. My prayers are with you.

Peace, Larry

I'm praying for you too my man. -Rick

Hi Phil,

I am sure there are now prayers being offered all over the country and that's exactly as it should be.

When my mom had cancer many years ago I was so overwhelmed a few days after she received her diagnosis that I actually told the mailman when he came to the house to deliver a letter. My mom asked me why I told the mailman, and I told her I'd tell everyone I came into contact with if they would offer a prayer of healing, love and support for her--and if not for her, then selfishly, for me, because I knew I would need all the support I could get to provide all the support to her that I wanted her to have. And she smiled. So as I am typing this note, I'm offering up that same request and prayer for you--because you should have ALL the support and bounty of God's precious love that you so richly deserve.

Blessings,
Jackie

Phil,

Kevin told me you have cancer and you are undergoing treatment. I'm so sorry to hear it. I'm sure it's a scary experience, even though being the macho man, not so much! Sharing your journey is a brave thing to do, especially if you're uncomfortable doing so. I'm sure the treatments are wearing you down. I wish you strength for whatever happens.

Roseann

Hi Phil

As usual, your words were lovely and touching. It's good to be reading them again. My family and I will continue our prayers for you, every night. You might be interested to hear how we phrase our prayers for those in need (a distressing number for cancer): asking God that you would "feel your loving and healing touch." Sounds like you are certainly feeling God's loving touch. Now for the second part of that request.

And I'm really gonna keep a wary eye on those federal RFPs......................

All the best, always, Janine

Phillip,

Thank you for sending your email, I will pray for you.

Gail

Phil - precisely one hour after returning from the dentist where I heard the probability that something was seriously amiss and set up with an ENT doc and biopsy I received your email and was awed and amazed by God's continuing grace and virtually overwhelmed with gratitude. Thank you for your wisdom and courage in sharing your continuing journey.

Larry

Hi Phil,

I was touched by your article from Hooked on Recovery. I always enjoy reading them but this one prompted me to email you. Thank you for sharing what you did and how you did. In the face of this difficult time you are allowing God to work in your life rather than pushing him away and becoming bitter. What you wrote brought me to tears. Not just ones of sadness for the situation, but also joy because you can rejoice in your Savior, who loves you, cares for you, and strengthens you. He is a great and awesome God and it really becomes apparent through our trials. I look forward to reading your next article. You will be in thought and prayer.

Yours Truly,

Susie

Hi Phil,

I was inspired by your e-mail yesterday to respond. I wanted to let you know that I tend to be a private person and therefore do not tend to share my personal stuff, including illnesses. I’ve discovered that these tendencies turn into awkwardness in how I approach your health issues…so I pretend it doesn’t exist and communicate to you as I always would. However, I wanted to take this time to reach out and let you know that you are in my thoughts and prayers.

Diana

Cancer can be a gift sometimes...

I wanted to tell you how deeply moved I was by your story. I am a cancer survivor, having been diagnosed with colon cancer in 2004, in the nick of time and by the Grace of God (but that's another story). I chose to be open about what was happening to me, mostly because I can't keep a secret to save my life, but in part because talking about it helped release the negative energy and fear that I believed would hamper my recovery. I used to joke about it with my family..."I can't do the dishes, I have cancer" and the kids would laugh and remind me that "the tumor was removed during the colonoscopy Mom, and the upcoming surgery was just a precautionary measure, so quit whining and do the dishes!"

I had no idea how many friends I had, or how loved and valued I was at my job, church, neighborhood etc until the cancer diagnosis. I was overwhelmed with God's love in so many special ways that I was unable to see this as anything other than a gift. Who'd a thunk there were perks to getting cancer? I am grateful for the wake-up call to take better care of myself and I make a conscious effort to notice and appreciate the little things. I feel so much more alive now and I no longer allow myself to be pressured into doing things I don't want to do, no longer allow myself to be taken for granted and overburdened at work and there are other changes too numerous to mention. I continue to hope and pray that I will remain in remission but if the cancer returns I will be grateful for the years of recovery that I have enjoyed.

I have enjoyed reading your your "posts" on CCAR website and have used them often in my work to get a point across to a client who is struggling with early recovery. I appreciate your humor and insight and now the courage with which you are facing this latest trial. I hope that you will soon perceive the gifts that can come to you and that the love of others can work its healing grace as it did with me. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers and I wish to thank you for sharing your journey with us.

Susie

Nice to have you back Phillip. I miss "Hooked" and was pleased to see it in my mailbox. My mom always told me to let others enjoy the same blessing and positive feelings I get from giving. Even if it meant they were giving to me. I also do not deal with being "taken care of" well. I am the caretaker, not the caretakee (?). I fight that battle daily and continue to learn from it.

Love you and can't wait to see you and yours in August. Peggy

Phil, This is Bonnie, Kathy Panda-Johnson's daughter. I met you the other day and had the privilege of singing to you.

Your message of hope, trust, faith and acceptance is beautiful... I'm grateful you shared with me. You are an inspiration. Sending you love, thanks for sending some to me.

Best, Bonnie

Thank you for sharing - Phil. I know it's not easy and believe me I know how hard it can be to let go and depend on others. I been there and realized that I have been blessed with wonderful people in my life. You will be in my thoughts and prayers. Sorry I missed talking with you and Laurie at the ADRC training. Hopefully I see you soon................Pam

Hi Phil

I am so sorry to hear of your illness. Yet I know that it will be a time where God is closer than probably any other in your life. Well, on second thought not as close as when he first took your hand and walked with you through recovery.

Seven years ago the Lord moved us along with are teen age daughters to the inner city to care for the poor. At the same time my husband was diagnosed with Lymes Disease which resulted in brain damage. He is fully disabled now. During that time they found a tumor in my face which after months diagnosed as benign but inoperable. The years have passed and the battles continue but we are still standing and God has been faithful throughout. I hear the peace in your words and the knowledge that He is faithful and He alone is worthy.

Through it all we have found great wisdom in Joshua 1 Stand firm and be courageous. As you know God will never give you more than you can handle and then He gives you a way out. We will pray for you.

God bless you,

Karen

Dear Phil – I am so sorry to hear of your cancer diagnosis. What a harsh blow and a tough burden to share. You were courageous and open three years ago when you spoke to my j-class at CCSU about your addiction and path to recovery.

But I can understand that better because we’re talking about something that so far has a positive outcome. This new challenge for you is an unknown. Thanks for telling others. It gives all of us the chance to respond and assist. I really understand the “sealed beak” approach. I will help almost anyone with almost anything. But when it comes to myself, I’m closed to asking anyone for help, because I’m sure I can handle it by myself. Besides, I shouldn’t bother others and I probably don’t deserve any help anyway. It’s stupid and selfish thinking. I know from your note you’ve left that far behind. I also know that you and your family are facing a real challenge.

Call or write if you wish.

Thinking of you… Bill

Hi Phil,

I read your article this morning and just wanted to send you positive thoughts and a note of support in your own battle with cancer. Two and a half years ago I was diagnosed with a fairly aggressive form of prostate cancer and underwent a radical prostatectomy. Needless to say, my life has not been the same since then and I continue to live with the side effects, but there is also a certain strength I draw from being a survivor. I'm not a "praying" man in the traditional sense, but just know that I am thinking of you and sending you all the positive energy I can muster. I hope that all the guidance and support that you have given people through the years will wash over you as good karma and carry you through this ordeal as a survivor. Thank you for your inspiration Phil and best wishes for a complete and successful recovery.

A fellow survivor, Tom

I think a lot of people who find themselves in Human Service enjoy serving humanity but forget our own service needs. I come from a family of teachers, social workers and lawyers. All helping professions. All of us ready to pray, help, advocate, teach for anyone. But it is not easy to always receive the help, prayer, advocacy, lessons we deserve as humans and part of a divine system that drives all of us to care.

I say this because your story called to mind three examples of similar events and reminded me to allow myself to be celebrated. My grandmother had a heart attack the first week of April this year. Her circulation had been so bad that her legs swelled to the point where she couldn't put on socks- clear warning sign. We speak to her by phone every week as she lives in New Jersey- not once did ever tell us about her legs or inability to move about her own home.---She taught kindergarten for 40 years.

My mother works at a Children's center for victims of sexual assault under the age of 18. Last winter she went to Target because she noticed how many of the clients (children) had no gloves, hats or scarves. Often the offender is an income contributing member the victim's household and their absence brings safety- but also economic conundrum.-- Last winter my mother had no car and was sharing a very old one between her and two other people.

My birthday recently passed. A friend took me a restaurant that I thought was way too expensive as a belated gift. I was floored- I've never eaten anything but appetizers at this place and even that is a treat. My friend- whom I've known since I was 13 then told me I was one of the most thoughtful people they knew.-- I wouldn't even let this person finish their toast because I felt so awkward. I am teaching this person to drive on my Honda with 207k miles and we have been friends for over 20 years.

Large or small our decent acts and love of mankind doesn't exempt us from receiving love. In fact it is exactly why we receive it. After having a parent survive two cancers in a 5 year period- I'll tell you it's time to cash in on the love equity. Here's a little from someone you didn't even know cared.

Rayna