EPTSitting in a bucket of sweat, heart racing at, what I can imagine was nearing on 200bpm, I couldn't imagine dying. I didn't really want to die, I guess. I know I prayed that I wouldn't die. I think that's normal though. I'm a Christian man, and I have no problem saying that. I believe the things that one should believe in order to define themselves as such. That doesn't make me a good person, or give me a positive outlook on life. In fact, I'd say it gives me quite the opposite. I think I see the world for what it really is: pointless and evil. I don't love life, and I don't hate life. I'm completely indifferent toward it.
I don't know how you change your view on things either. God knows I've tried. I try to find positivity in life. I've tried to find happiness in so many things, things that don't concern me. The success of others, the smile of a child... but what good are they? Then the old cliche "it could be worse," or "you might not have woken up at all today!" Oh, what a relief that would be! To not repeat this mind-numbing cycle ever again. Fleeting glimmers of hope and happiness surrounded by seas of shit, piled on top of shit. Awesome life we live, just truly astounding. We should be thankful that we're around to experience such great things. Who knows, maybe that happiness that you found for a moment last month or year, whatever, that you clung to so tight it took your heart when it left you... maybe you'll find that again so you can repeat the cycle. Think of something in your life that you've really loved, chances are it's gone now. We're left with nothing but memories. And memories don't do a thing for us, do they? Except remind us of how much better we used to have it. It's the one thing that keeps some of us going. Hope that that happiness was just practice for the real happiness later in our lives, practice for the day we finally see the point in all of this... practice for the day that never comes.
But mine was not intentional. No, it was a complete accident. I was toying with some potentially dangerous weight loss drugs, which carry an LD50 of somewhere between one and three grams. I'm not particularly fat, but I have the Adonis complex (who knows why? I still can't rationalize this). I want to be shredded for some reason. I guess I like the way that I look with more muscular striations on my body, but I digress. On Monday, I took 1g, and handled it well. On Tuesday, I took another gram. I felt okay, though admittedly very hot. Uncomfortable is a light way of explaining just how hot I was. If you've ever worked on a car in 95º F heat, that's pretty close to how I felt internally. But surprise! Today is pizza day at work, for customer service week... and they brought the dreaded chocolate fudge cake, with light chocolate frosting... double layered. If any of you knew my in real life, you'd know that I have two massive weaknesses when it comes to food, and that both of them are currently present.
Now, I had prepared a smarter lunch (chicken breast with mozerella and tomato sauce), but that was a pipe dream when that steaming pile of delicious came in. Damn the Adonis complex, which reminded me that I hadn't been keeping up very well with things since the gf broke up with me, and I'm getting fatter... BRILLIANT! I'll take another 200mg!
At this point, the effective dose is probably something like 1500mg circulating through my system. I'm definitely teetering on the edge to begin with, and 200mg could push me over. At the time, I didn't quite think of it this way, and I took 200mg anyway.
Within two hours my heartbeat became so rapid, I could hardly stand it. It hit as hard and fast as if I had sprinted a mile, and there was nothing I could do to slow it down. The heat... there was no relief. There's never any escape from it, you're always hot, but air movement, or air conditioning always brings a bit of relief. I knew things weren't good when I couldn't find a sliver of relief. So I left the building, to a reasonable tempered night. I turned on the car, the dashboard read 65º. I cranked the AC as low as it could go, pulled up my shirt, and laid back. So. Hot. I've never felt an athletic-material shirt so wet before. It was some Lacoste mesh shirt, that's supposed to wick away sweat. It's usually the best shirt I have for when I'm on this stuff (to note, this is not my first usage... I'm pretty experienced with this drug, but pushed the envelope a bit too hard).
All I could think about was laying down, and going to sleep for a while. I put the seat up, knocked down whatever may have been on the back seat, and climbed in. Some time passed, I'm not really sure how long. I may not have been completely conscious at this point. It's not possible to sleep willingly when you're this hot--insomnia is a common side effect, reported by all users at a certain dosage, always for the same reason. Something like half an hour later I got a text from my boss asking if I was okay. I said something back, got my work status changed, and passed out again. I finally called Dr. Uncle (my uncle is an MD), explained the symptoms, and asked if I should go in... not surprisingly, he said I should. I got my boss to drive me to the hospital, so that I could avoid a $900 ambulance ride. At this point, I'm the only person that knows what's causing my problem.
The doctors were clueless, and it had nothing to do with incompetency. If I had to take a rough guess, there are less than 2,000 fatal overdoses caused by this drug in it's 80+ year history, and only one that I know of in the last twenty years or so. The interesting thing about this drug is that, while it makes you unbearably hot, and it's quite obvious by the profuse sweating, and flushing of the skin, your body temperature does not rise on normal thermometers (I am curious if a rectal thermometer would find this, but they didn't try). My temperature read a slightly hypothermic temperature of 97.3º F. Honestly, if not for the research I had done well before every touching this stuff, I probably would have died. All the saline solutions, and steroids they could have pumped me full of would likely not have reversed the hyperthermic effects of what I had taken. Luckily (I guess), while dumb enough to consume dangerous chemicals, I am smart enough to research them with a fair degree of thoroughness. So, I nonchalantly asked "You don't happen to have dantrolene laying around, do you?"
"Why?"
"Well, it's the only compound they've ever found that may reverse the effects of what I've taken."
Some discussion took place, followed by quick research, and them saying that I was right. Dantrolene was administered. The next thirty-six hours, or thereabout, was spent laying in a hospital bed, being bitched at every time I moved wrong, because it would trip the alarm and they'd have to come into the room. I was still ridiculously hot, and their cooling devices weren't working correctly for the majority of the day. Two friends came by, one with a clean pair of fresh (new) boxers and some shorts.I'm not a fan of being naked all the time, and the clothes I came in with were not an option (if you'd like an idea of how wet I was, imagine how your clothes feel about twenty minutes after jumping into a pool).
Overall, I feel it was a massive waste of time and money after the administration of dantrolene. I was clearly the most educated person on the drug there. Dr. Uncle said the same thing, and even said that he was impressed I had the knowledge that I had on the stuff. But like I said, if I'm going to make a potentially dangerous decision, I should have a reasonable understanding of the decision, and countermeasures to reverse the decision, if there are any. As this stands, I ended up with weak/sore knees (which I'm guessing is the dantrolene working out of my system--it's a muscle relaxant afterall... my legs feel the way you'd expect them to after a long night of really heavy drinking), and what I can only imagine will be a very high hospital bill. About two hours post administration of dantrolene, I am confident I could have returned to work, and everything would have stabilized on its own. At that point, the feelings were nothing out of the ordinary. I guess if I cared more about the outcome of the events of that night, I might see this as "being lucky" or see this as a "new lease on life" where I'll do things the right way... but I don't, so after some tweaking to get a better diet protocol in place, I'll probably be back on DNP, just not nearly as much. I should have been smarter with the dose, that's for sure. $10 worth of pills = $X,000 hospital bill is a bad equation.
Still, after I walked out of the hospital, and proceeded to waster $300+ on clothes from an outlet mall... I can't help but be reminded of how little this all matters. Or how far off a six pack I am still. I wonder if I lost any weight. I doubt it. Just keep in mind, should you ever try some risky stuff, a half life is called that for a reason, it's now HALF the original dose at X time. That's where my calculation went wrong, and I ended up in the hospital for it. Be smarter, unless you want to die one of the least comfortable OD's possible.
