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Monday, December 18, 2017

Sublocade (Buprenorphine + Naloxone) Is an Answer to Opioid Addiction?

Wholly unexpectedly, my wife Jack showed up from Vancouver last evening.

My besotted, miserable younger brother Mark had only been home from the bar for a short time, and was in the kitchen trying to fix himself something to eat as I sat in the living room before the T.V.

Both of Jack's sons were home, and she had alerted by phone call or text one or both of them to come outside and help her to bring in groceries ─ this involved the younger lad Poté getting up from bed where he had been lying with his new girlfriend in the dark.

She has in fact spent the night with him ─ they are still in bed at 11:25 a.m., and I find it most annoying. They both work at the same retail shop in Guildford ─ why aren't they needed at work today?

But returning to last evening.

Mark was soon seated at the dining table in the dark, where he has a full view of the T.V. But before very long I became suspicious by his silence, and took a peek ─ he was passed out.

It didn't last; and upon reviving, he evidently went into the kitchen and grouched at Jack (who was doing some cooking) that he had prepared a couple of pieces of toast, and they were now gone.

She seemed to then explain that, yes, he had indeed prepared a couple of pieces of toast; and she had witnessed him eat them.

The foul-tempered knob couldn't even remember it.

And he wonders why he can never get his 24-year-old daughter to answer when he phones her ─ which he does almost always after he is good and drunk. Who wants to accept a call from anyone in that condition?

Hell, Mark used to sometimes get a new phone number years ago anytime our father Hector found out what the number was and started giving Mark drunk calls.

And now Mark is our drunken father making the same kind of calls to his own adult child.

Perhaps it can be perceived that I do not happen to be in a particularly good mood. I will try to dial back the diatribe.

Jack went to bed early last evening. After Mark went on upstairs to his bedroom for the night, and I shut things down and went to join Jack in bed, it wasn't yet quite 10:40 p.m.

As I got into bed, in an extremely sleepy voice, Jack asked if "you guys" left any of the soup she had prepared, so I affirmed that there was still some available.

And so she expressed that she was going to go and have some.

I had trouble sinking into sleep, and was still awake when she had returned.

It is commonplace now for me to sleep especially badly when Jack shares the bed. One reason is that I resist shifting about too much in bed for concern of disturbing her. I know that she is a very light sleeper, and she must still go to work and thus needs her sleep ─ unlike me with my retirement pension and better than 23 years on her. 

Another reason I sleep poorly with her in the bed is that I am unable to freely perform the sort of noisy actions that I would engage in during the night to try and clear breathing restrictions, with the consequence that my breathing and comfort level become markedly impaired.

For at least the past two months, Jack has been working for two days early in each week at a Thai restaurant over near Guildford, so she has been coming home in the evenings afterwards and spending the nights.

She normally spends most of her weeks somewhere in Vancouver.

I am now wondering if her unexpected appearance last evening is betokening three consecutive nights for me with especially ill sleep instead of the usual two?

My night ended this morning when I heard her speak something. I correctly deduced that her eldest son Tho must have tapped upon the door and called to her so that she would get up and drive him to the SkyTrain for his commute to work in Burnaby.

The 23-year-old gets to the SkyTrain on his own during the week when his mother is not home, but he will not allow her the peace of good sleep if she is here overnight.

I peeked at the time as she dressed, and saw it to be 5:59 a.m.

Once she had gone downstairs, and I heard her go outside to the car to start it up, I rose and dressed.

When the pair had gone, I went downstairs and fixed my morning's hot beverage.

I was back upstairs and here at my computer when Jack returned and went straight back to bed.

I completed the morning's assignment of content supply at the post I am constructing at Siam-Longings, one of my six hosted websites.

By the time that task was done, it was around 9:30 a.m., so I took advantage of my working brother Mark's bed, and covered up with the comforter, seeking to sink into any kind of nap that I might achieve.

Perhaps I was there for an hour before I heard Jack exit our bedroom and go into the bathroom to start readying for her day at the Thai restaurant.

I went downstairs and fixed myself a hot instant coffee, and turned on the T.V.

Jack wasted little time. When she came downstairs to leave and I then saw her off, it was about 10:40 a.m.

With her gone, I turned off the T.V. and came upstairs here to my computer to begin this post.

The day is dry thus far, but somewhat cloudy with appearances of some sunshine that I think will prove an aberration. It is also fairly cool ─ since last night there had been a chill wind blowing, but it has largely died off with the approach of midday.

I found myself sufficiently keyed up by my absence of privacy here at home today that during the noon hour, I ventured out to the backyard tool shed and got my session of pull-ups out of the way for the day.

I returned into the house to find that the light was on where Poté and his girlfriend had been lying in bed, so perhaps the pair are going to rally and get the heck out of here and leave me in peace.

I'm sure there's a reason that they aren't sleeping in bed together at her parents' home!

But Jack won't do aught, so permissiveness reigns here, whether I approve or not.

Lord, it's tough finding a good mood in me.


It sure beats me how people become hooked on things like opioids just because of something like irritating or nagging physical pain interfering somewhat with their daily lives, but there are plenty out there who are like that when it comes to piddling physical discomfort.

And how many people bother informing themselves about the medications they get prescriptions for?

Nope! If a doctor has prescribed it, then it must be perfectly good and safe ─ right? After all, whoever heard of a pharmaceutical company producing anything harmful?

Yeah, right.

In response to the question posed by the title of the following decent-enough recent article, I would respond in the negative:


The article didn't bother linking to the American Kratom Association website (AmericanKratom.org), and neither did it link to the other reference it gave:


Many people take pain medication such as opioids to cope with depression.

I am prey to depression, but if I was not in a state of financial limitation, my ongoing resort would be alcohol ─ that's not a recommendation, by the way. It's simply what my choice would be.

I have pondered whether opioids might be a solid option for someone wishing to suicide. So why anyone would turn to them for chronic pain or depression makes scant sense to me.

There seems to be quite a number of websites out there in a forum format where people ask questions about kratom and opioid use ─ you can do a sample Google search yourself using the term kratom versus buprenorphine.

That is just an example search ─ you can easily devise your own. 

Anyway, the main source of my day's potential depression both left here around 1:20 p.m. in the girlfriend's car.

I was home alone at last.

Here now is a scan of an old photo ─ the description beneath it is from the Google Plus album where I have the scan filed

This photo that belonged to my mother Irene Dorosh and her husband Alex is date-stamped on the back with April 1990 ─ an indication of when the film was developed that this photo was from.

There was apparently a peace march or similar rally taking place. Four other photos showed people marching across a bridge.

However, I can offer no details, apart from suggesting that the city is likely Vancouver, B.C.
These are the other four photos that I mentioned:

Alex and my mother were unshakable NDP supporters.

By the way, yesterday afternoon I watched the last of a Christmas movie that I had to break from at the 53-minute point Saturday evening due to the arrival home of my younger brother Mark ─ he had come home instead of spending Saturday night at the home of his girlfriend Bev as he generally does on Saturdays.

I never mentioned the movie ─ it was 12 Gifts of Christmas.

I enjoyed it ─ the movie was the sort of schmaltzy Christmas fare I love immersing myself into.

I particularly enjoyed it because of the actress playing the lead character. Katrina Law is very familiar to me as s semi-regular on the T.V. series Arrow, having the role of Nyssa al Ghul, warrior daughter to Ra's al Ghul, leader of the League of Assassins.

She was always so darkly beautiful in her Arrow appearances, with dark eyes and naturally flaring nostrils that made her look especially fierce.

To see her in this Christmas movie looking loving, warm, and gentle was a true treat.

Until researching her just now, I had no idea that she could sing ─ she is a member of a band called SoundBoard Fiction.

A search at YouTube reveals a number of videos by the group.

Another search reveals that the movie 12 Days of Christmas is available in full on YouTube, should anyone care to sit and watch it on a computer. 

Another actress I was pleased to see in the movie was Donna Mills ─ she played the well-to-do mother of the lead male character.

Is she really 77 years old now? Wow!

I remember when the T.V. series The Good Life came out featuring her. I turned 22 that year in October, yet I loved the series because she was in it.

Oddly, I think that I always thought that Jack Jones sang the theme ─ not Tony Orlando.

Well, I am going to wrap up today's post earlier than usual and do some other things ─ such as have a bath ─ before I commence my evening's television entertainment. 

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