Hooked on Oxycoden

Early this morning when i spoke to her she was fine, Spence and i were having a good little conversation with her about a fruit named mamey. She went to a chiropractor yesterday and was forced to move her arthritic arm and hip more than she ever would on her own. I began to tell her how good that would be for her to move and i was happy that she would get therapy. She laughed as she said she was in pain as a result. The conversation immediately went to she had to eat something so she could take her pain meds. I grimaced and left the room. About one hour later, i crossed paths with her in the living room and she told me Brighthouse was coming to the house. We had a strange conversation and I stared in her blank eyes, I could see that she was not there. Her hand was nervously twitching on her house dress and she is confused because Brighthouse said someone over 18 had to be there when they arrive. Instantly I realized I was talking to a person I thought I would never encounter. My mother on narcotics. The same woman that wanted me to go to rehab when I got caught smoking pot at 16 years old. She cried, I might as well have been taking heroine. I spoke to her doctor regarding oxycoden, the strongest drug on the market and basically was told the difference between my mother and a person on the street that buys oxycoden on the street everyday is that "my mother is not on the street!"