I usually do something dumb enough to land an ER visit or urgent care about once a year. Broken finger, sprained wrist, pulled muscles... I take a couple pain pills or muscle relaxer to cope for the first day or so then the rest get thrown into my first aid kit. Did this for years so I had a pretty good stash of vicodin, perks, oxies... I end up dropping an 80lb hydraulic cylinder on my thumb and it splits tissue to the bone. It's work related so the doc exrays it, throws in a couple stitches and says it's a hairline fracture. I tell him the glorified ibuprofen doesn't work for me and he gives it to me anyway thinking I'm seeking narcotics.

Whatever, go home with it hurting like hell and grab my first aid kit to find every pill bottle empty. That was how I found out one of my roommates was a junkie. Needless to say I wasn't in a good mood to begin with but that triggered me bad, went off on him and told him him and all his shit was to be gone within 24 hours. I wonder if he ever cleaned up or is dead now from graduating to fentynal.