Charleston City Paper October 23, 2002

She was only 16 the night she walked into the kitchen and discovered her mother passed on the floor. It wasn’t an accident or stroke, it was a drug overdose. While it sounds like the first paragraph of a bad novel or something you might see on Jerry Springer, it happened to me 30 years ago. My mother, a registered nurse, knew all the right words to say to her doctors so they would prescribe the drugs she craved. That night, as I ran screaming across the front yard to wake the next door neighbor because I thought she was … Continue reading Charleston City Paper October 23, 2002