Citation: Bob_Loblaw. "I Had a Mini-Stroke: An Experience with Mephedrone, Heroin & Mirtazapine (exp104703)". Erowid.org. Apr 8, 2016. erowid.org/exp/104703
This happened a few years ago, though I just now realised that perhaps I should have written more about it a while ago to possibly help some people from making the same mistake I did. Enjoy...
Experience level: Too many nights spent high on mephedrone (4-Methylmethcathinone) to count; probably less than 100 times on heroin; Only a few doses of Pristiq (desvenlafaxine) or Remeron (mirtazapine) ever
I had recently come across a few grammes of tar heroin and even more mephedrone while being prescribed an SNRI, Pristiq, and a tetracyclic antidepressant, Remeron. I had been doing mephedrone for over a year, off and on, and shooting dope for about 8 months pretty infrequently. In the preceding 2 months I was sent to treatment, where I got prescribed Pristiq for daily use & Remeron for nightly use to help me sleep. Because I went to treatment, my parents thought it would be prudent if I saw a drug abuse counsellor and met with a nurse practitioner to get my meds straightened out. (I was misdiagnosed with depression.) The day before I was scheduled to meet with the nurse practitioner I decided to get high.
I came home that night with every intention of banging some of that tar. However, my parents made me take my Remeron as soon as I got home. I only took that medication to help me fall asleep, and I would be damned if I was going to pass out when I added some dope to it, so I decided to improvise. I mixed my typical shot of tar, enough to get me nice and high, slightly noddy, while mostly being coherent and awake the whole time, with a bit more mephedrone than I usually shot (I estimate 200-300mg instead of ~100), to ensure that I would enjoy the heroin.
I remember drawing it up, scoring, then putting away the spoon and feeling fucking great.
I had a nightmare. I fell out of my computer chair onto the floor. I noticed my side/rib cage area was hurting more than any pain I had ever felt, so I began to scream out for help. Though when I tried calling for someone I couldn't get anything out beyond a raspy whisper. I started freaking out before the nightmare was over.
I awoke in my bed to my mother saying, 'Wake up, Bob, you need to hurry for your appointment today.' I thought THANK GOD THAT WAS JUST A DREAM!!! I pulled the covers back, sat up, and put my feet on the floor. I went to stand up and my right leg immediately buckled under my weight and at that exact moment knew I was fucked and terrified. My left arm is also pretty gimped out; I have very little control of either limb. My hip is also slightly numb. I hobble down the stairs as a man with a broken leg, broken arm, and no casts must do, as I freak out and wonder how I'm going to explain this to my parents who just put me through 6 weeks of rehab and think I'm clean. My mother is pretty upset, wondering what is going on with me, but all I can say is that I have no idea what happened, but it wasn't drug-related because I'm clean. We're both quite freaked out at this point, and she decides it's best to go to my appointment instead of the hospital. The nurse can look me over for free and we'll act based on her recommendation.
We get to the complex and I explain that I took some Vicodin (hydrocodone) and mephedrone the night before. The NP seems slightly vexed, so we're taken across the hall to see a psychiatrist who also works there. He has me perform some basic motor skills tests and such before diagnosing it as some form of a stroke (a lack of blood/oxygen to the brain), and referring me to a neurologist.
He does some further tests at his office before having me get an MRI done to really see what happened. The results come back a day or two later and freak me the fuck out. He tells me I had a mini-stroke, AKA transient ischemic attack (TIA), and am fortunate to be alive. The combination of substances I took combined with my genetics related to vascularity caused my brain to be deprived of oxygen for a brief period of time. He said if I had stayed in that state a few SECONDS longer, I'd be 18 years old in a nursing home because my brain would've been too fried for me to function. Oh, and to top it all off, I had some cysts on my brain-stem which could be malignant; we'd have to do another MRI.
I let all that sink in, for a few days, and pray the results come back in my favour. The second test comes back showing that the cysts are, in fact, benign and pose no threat to me. What an earth-shattering couple of weeks it truly was.
After about a month I was mostly back to normal, but to this day I become pretty paranoid when I'm doing stimulants--even something as commonplace as caffeine. When I'm on them I feel like my heart pounds faster, more intensely than it did before. I pray I don't black out again and have another stroke. Since then I've put the stims down mostly and focus more on the downers. My neurologist told me that using any drug again could put me at risk for stroke, but I've snorted mephedrone since, shot coke, shot meth, smoked both, and have consumed copious quantities of other substances without major consequence--aside from the time I passed out on my arm for 10 hours & developed neuropathy >__<--but who knows if my luck's gonna run out?
Hopefully some of you will take my story to heart. Mixing IV drugs can be quite dangerous, especially large amounts of relatively unknown substances. Be smarter than I was; don't become a statistic.
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