Satisfying Semantics

Ever since taking my last prescription opioid dose on January 13, 2019, I have been searching for a word that accurately describes the phase in which I now find myself.  I’ve tried on many words to see how they fit, but none of them feel accurate or befitting of the situation. Yes, I’m in a period of recovery, not just from being off the opioids, but also from being severely chronically ill. God willing, the latter will follow me into the future, but regardless, “in recovery” isn’t specific enough for my liking.

There is the obvious word “sober”, which means “not under the influence of drugs or alcohol” according to the Encarta Dictionary. Perhaps in error, but in all honesty, I find the opposite of this word to mean “drunk” or “high”, and I never felt either of those things. I certainly felt numb and out of it, but it was not a pleasant escape from reality. If anything, I associate my time on opioids as a complete emotional void. From the outside, I may have seemed high, but I never felt the enjoyment I think many find in the highs they seek, despite the danger in which it puts them.  I think true sobriety for an addict is much harder to maintain than the absence of drugs I find myself enduring after being drug dependent. I’m enjoying the lack of toxic chemicals in my body, and “sober” just doesn’t fit my situation.

Then there is the word “clean”, which means “with no illegal drugs; not containing or possessing illegal drugs”. Over the 19 years I was on prescription opioids, I never pursued them from the streets. That’s where the word “prescription” comes in; I always got my medicine from a doctor and used it accordingly. Yes, there were times when I would take an extra pill here or there, but that was the exception, not the rule. In addition, to say I’m now “clean” infers that I was somehow, at some point, “dirty”, and I was never what I would consider dirty. I was chronically ill and dealing with chronic pain, neither of which made me unclean. I was suffering, not sucia (dirty in Spanish.)  Plenty of people made me ashamed by my situation, and in that way I felt subpar, but never dirty.  So again, the word “clean” doesn’t befit my situation.

Finally comes my least favorite phrase, “on the wagon”, in contrast to being “off the wagon”, which implies that one has failed to remain off their substance of choice. The last time I was on or off a wagon was when I was about seven-years old and being pulled by my dad to the Bexley fireworks on the 4^th of July in the Radio Flyer red wagon I shared with my baby brother.  There is nothing about this period of being off narcotics that reminds me of that young time, with the exception of perhaps a hope that good things can work out. However, I’m not on a wagon, red or otherwise, and this phrase just doesn’t work for me.

After exhausting these commonplace words and phrases, I began thinking about my true feelings at this time. I feel satisfied, full and complete, as I freed myself from the tentacles of drug dependence after so many years of chronic pain. I feel filled to the brim with pride for my accomplishment, and humility for realizing that I could never have done it without the support from my family, friends and most of all, God. After nineteen years of drug dependence, my appetite for them is sated. I am filled to the brim and ready to take on a new diet. Most of all, I feel overwhelmed with a satisfaction that my life is better today than it has been at any other time in the past two decades.

Thinking of these emotions, I recalled a phrase my Nana used to say when she was feeling full and replenished with a satisfying meal:

No thank you,

I’ve had my sufficiency!

Fully serrencified,

Clear up to my velosophinial.

Any more would be an indulgency.

Remembering her sweet phrasing, of which serrencified appears in no dictionaries, I relate this feeling to my past years of chronic pain and illness. I HAVE had my sufficiency of the two, more than enough. And if I even HAVE a “velosophinial” at this point, and it hasn’t been removed in one of my many surgeries, I am full of the pain and chronic illness all the way up to it.  At this point, any more would be indulgency. I’ve spent enough time in bed, in hospitals, on surgical tables, in doctors’ offices to last me into the next millennium. I don’t want to jinx myself, but this feeling of being “serrencified” has given me the hope that the future will see my health continue to improve, as suddenly I’m able to see the light rather than having to penetrate through the pea soup fog of opioid dependence with vision that didn’t exist.

Nana wasn’t just my grandmother, she was my spiritual guide.  She taught me to have empathy for others, to learn from my mistakes and to journey forward with a positive attitude, no matter the realities of the past. Looking back at these years of illness and pain, I feel so fortunate to not just have survived, but to now be thriving, at least emotionally. Physically, my body is healing a little each day, and it’s a miracle to behold. More than anything, I feel her spirit speaking to me as I go forward, feeling “serrencified” and optimistic that my future will not be a continuation of my past, but rather a new beginning.

This past weekend, my mom and I were going through old photos, and I found a letter from Nana written the Christmas of 1997, two years before I got ill. As I read it, I could feel her spirit surrounding me, and a particular paragraph stuck out. At the time, I wouldn’t have understood what she was truly saying, but after the experiences I’ve had these past nineteen years, it now reads as if she had some power to see what was to come.  Now sixteen years since losing her, I read it almost as prayer, and perhaps, a prediction.

She wrote:

As we continue to clean our lens of consciousness with love, we will one day look back on the evolution of our growing and see how much cleansing has been going on. We are already seeing how beautiful flowers of peace, love and compassion grow from the compost of pain.

Amen, Nana… I am “serrencified” and at peace knowing you are watching over me.