vilallonga on Nostr: Yesterday I was exposed to fentanyl for the very first time in my life. And against ...
Yesterday I was exposed to fentanyl for the very first time in my life. And against my will. It’s an integral part of general anesthesia cocktails. In my case, it was a combination of midazolam (strong benzo, 2mg), propofol (a hypnotic, 100mg), and fentanyl (opioid,150 mcg).
We are giving very addictive substances to patients for anesthesia—and in America for the crazy notion of killing pain, many times quite banal pain (not talking about serious, excruciating pain). Fentanyl is a very dangerous substance, a bastardized invention, worse than morphine and heroin. Let’s not forget oxycodone, another evil invention. Fentanyl is worse.
Moloch wants addicts, it wants corpses. That’s why it pushes opioids to people. That’s why cocaine and amphetamines are amply used and celebrated as recreational tools and productivity boosters (it ain’t film exaggerations, anybody having been enslaved in high corporate has witnessed it)
Hence, my body has experienced, once more, another evil from modernity. Lesser evil? No, an induction to full degradation. It shall pass. Was my surgery avoidable? Unfortunately no. Even though I took the most conservative route, thanks to a second opinion from a true doctor mensch, I was pushed to the hell of death in life—a corpse. I don’t want to be ever again where I was with propofol, fentanyl or midazolam.
Right before surgery, waiting to get in, I was reciting poetry and I was thinking of the people I love and love me—my kids, my wife, my mom, my brother. I was crying of happiness for being in such love and cosmic harmony. When the nurse came back and saw me, she asked if I was ok. I responded: “Very ok! I’m reciting poetry and thinking of how much love I have in my life.” She then said it was better to administer midazolam earlier, right away. When poison touched my body I stopped feeling shit. Till solid 12 hours later I wasn’t able to feel the trees, the skies, my music, my people.
I’m raw. I’m pure emotion. I’m pure thought too, through creation. I want to feel what’s good but also what’s not so good in life. I don’t want any filters, neither for emotion nor for physical pain. And I have a crazy ability to feel, a lot. But this is what true life is: to feel, raw, unfiltered. This should be an essential part of standing men out there. I have lots to thank Dr. saladino (npub14am…udp2) and others that in the past 11 years have paved the way for true health and true living—sovereign, autarkic, liberated. In return, I just can offer true mind and feeling, and the way of the drum and the pinecone—a humble but genuine emotion in front of a sunset, the smile of my kids, the kiss of my wife, the hug of my brother, the tender care of my mother. Gratefulness and harmony—love.
“What thou lovest well remains,
the rest is dross.
What thou lovest well shall not be reft from thee.
What thou lovest well is thy true heritage.”
We are giving very addictive substances to patients for anesthesia—and in America for the crazy notion of killing pain, many times quite banal pain (not talking about serious, excruciating pain). Fentanyl is a very dangerous substance, a bastardized invention, worse than morphine and heroin. Let’s not forget oxycodone, another evil invention. Fentanyl is worse.
Moloch wants addicts, it wants corpses. That’s why it pushes opioids to people. That’s why cocaine and amphetamines are amply used and celebrated as recreational tools and productivity boosters (it ain’t film exaggerations, anybody having been enslaved in high corporate has witnessed it)
Hence, my body has experienced, once more, another evil from modernity. Lesser evil? No, an induction to full degradation. It shall pass. Was my surgery avoidable? Unfortunately no. Even though I took the most conservative route, thanks to a second opinion from a true doctor mensch, I was pushed to the hell of death in life—a corpse. I don’t want to be ever again where I was with propofol, fentanyl or midazolam.
Right before surgery, waiting to get in, I was reciting poetry and I was thinking of the people I love and love me—my kids, my wife, my mom, my brother. I was crying of happiness for being in such love and cosmic harmony. When the nurse came back and saw me, she asked if I was ok. I responded: “Very ok! I’m reciting poetry and thinking of how much love I have in my life.” She then said it was better to administer midazolam earlier, right away. When poison touched my body I stopped feeling shit. Till solid 12 hours later I wasn’t able to feel the trees, the skies, my music, my people.
I’m raw. I’m pure emotion. I’m pure thought too, through creation. I want to feel what’s good but also what’s not so good in life. I don’t want any filters, neither for emotion nor for physical pain. And I have a crazy ability to feel, a lot. But this is what true life is: to feel, raw, unfiltered. This should be an essential part of standing men out there. I have lots to thank Dr. saladino (npub14am…udp2) and others that in the past 11 years have paved the way for true health and true living—sovereign, autarkic, liberated. In return, I just can offer true mind and feeling, and the way of the drum and the pinecone—a humble but genuine emotion in front of a sunset, the smile of my kids, the kiss of my wife, the hug of my brother, the tender care of my mother. Gratefulness and harmony—love.
“What thou lovest well remains,
the rest is dross.
What thou lovest well shall not be reft from thee.
What thou lovest well is thy true heritage.”