Obligatory this didnt happen today but rather about 4 years ago.

Backstory: I am a chronic pain patient who is prescribed high doses of opiates and because I am a responsible person I got narcan to keep at home and in my purse. Not just for me but for all the situations I cant think of. And I really dont care what your opinion is of what my dr has deemed medically effective and necessary. Now onto the fuck up.

It's a warm October evening, my dad and I'm sitting on the back screened in deck watching the Red Sox play. After the game he goes back inside to go to bed. I decided to stay out there for a bit longer and smoke a fat joint before going to bed. About 30 minutes later, i''m beyond baked and things are about to get really bad. My heart feels like it's beating slower and slower so I pull my phone out and use the heart rate monitor function. It reads 60bpm and I start freaking out thinking I'm overdosing on my fentanyl patch somehow. (Side note, my average bpm was around 95 at the time.) Both my dr and the pharmacist had drilled into me years ago that I needed to know the signs of an opioid overdose because a drastic raise in body temperature can cause the patch to suddenly release more medication into your system which could cause an overdose. My mind is now racing thinking I'm on the verge of death from an opioid overdose and the only thing that will save me is narcan.

I'm was so ashamed and scared that I didnt wake anyone in the house and tell them what I thought was going on or ask for their help. Instead I tore off my current patch, stumbled down the stairs to my purse, grabbed the narcan and without hesitation I shoved it up my nose and pushed the plunger. Fuck that shit tastes awful once it finally drips to the back of your throat. But what I was completely unprepared for was yet to come. I had just pushed myself off onto a 12hr rollercoaster ride from hell.

First it increased my panic as I was instantly thrown into an intense withdrawal as the narcan starting blocking each opioid receptor in my body. Soon my body was on fire then I basically lost control of my body and how it moved. Urges to move a certain way couldnt be quelled. Then I was running to the bathroom to throw up. But mid vomiting I lost the strength to fully propel the contents fully out of my body and suddenly I couldnt breathe.

I stumbled the few steps to get my boyfriend to have him heimlich me. But there's a bit of a snag there. I have a massive scar on my abdomen that is so bad that any blow to my gut could literally tear my intestines. He knows this and is so afraid of hurting me he cant do it hard enough. I still cant breathe. So I fall to knees, ball my fist into my diaphragm and lunge with all my strength face first into the floor. Nothing came up so I did it again, success, i can breathe again. But this rollercoaster isnt over yet.

Now I'm still to ashamed of what I'd done that i lied to my boyfriend when he asked what was going on, i told him i was just having the worst panic attack of my life and he didnt question it. From that moment on he stayed by my side. Doing everything he could think of to soothe me thru the rest of what was to come.

The fire all over my body quickly returned but so much hotter because now all the pain the meds were blocking is also flooding forward. It was unbearable. He gets me into bed and tries to comfort me but I cant handle being touched. Then i lost control of my body movements again. Yawning. Stretching painfully. Contorting on the bed. I couldnt stop moving.

Hours looped of me yawning, contorting, shaking, stretching, running to the bathroom, feeling the most intense emotions on a pendulum, and micro napping. Thankfully he is a heavy sleeper and slept thru alot of it.

At about the 6hr mark my mind was finally gaining some clarity as the narcan wore off and the fentanyl that was stored in the skin and fat were still slowly releasing some of the drug even after taking off the patch. It was only then did it click that I was most definitely not overdosing but rather a fucking moron who got way too baked, got a case of paranoia so badly that I narcaned myself over it and nearly choked to death on my own vomit. That extra layer of shame kept me from telling anyone this for years. But a lesson was learned that day, I'm much more careful about how much weed I smoke.

TLDR: Got so high I thought I was overdosing on my pain medication, narcaned myself and nearly died choking on my own vomit.