One day, about four years ago, I was complaining to Tuna about severe pain from rheumatoid arthritis. She had told me in the past that her husband, Ron, grew marijuana. "That would fix your pain problem," she said. I was doubtful of this. It's not like I had never tried marijuana. I didn't like it, pure and simple. Plus, I doubted if Tuna had any concept of what level of pain I was talking about. But I suppose she was pressuring me just a little, and I thought, "Well, OK." I hesitated to go back to Vicodin or Percocet. Marijuana seemed innocent, about like wine. It had even been legalized.
I bought an ounce of marijuana from them. Tuna was kind enough to also bring me paper to roll joints in. So I set about trying to make this happen. I attempted to inhale, but soon I saw that my whole breathing system was rebelling against this plan. I could not inhale this to save my life. I decided to put a small amount in a gelatin capsule. I had a bag of them that I had bought to put powdered nutritional supplements in. So I took about 250 mg of marijuana by mouth. A tiny amount.
It was 1:00 in the afternoon. Suddenly I felt drugged and knew I was about to lose consciousness. From marijuana? That seemed strange but I just had an idea that I better go lie down in bed. Boom, I was out cold probably within five minutes of taking the capsule.
I came to the next morning feeling horrible, and I continued to feel horrible all day. It was 19 hours later. Well, no more of Ron's marijuana. I wondered if I should throw it away or maybe sprinkle it in the yard on the grass. I finally decided to return it to Ron. I told them I thought I had had an allergic reaction to marijuana. "Impossible!" said Tuna. "In any case, here is your ounce of marijuana," I said, handing it back to him. I didn't ask for a refund because this whole thing was scaring me and I just wanted out. I told Ron it had caused me to pass out. "It must be good!" he said, in a way that gave me the creeps. It seemed curious that he would say this about marijuana that Tuna claimed he had grown himself, and I realized he was not a grower, just a dealer. And what else does he deal? Who knows.
Oh sweet summer child.
Since that time I've learned something about the drug world, even marijuana. The drugs are often laced with fentanyl to give them more of a punch. For people with no tolerance to fentanyl, this can be dangerous. That would explain what happened with the marijuana from Ron. Even if that wasn't fentanyl, and I have an idea it was, something had been added to the marijuana to make it way stronger than marijuana is. I had not been trying to find drugs that would make me higher than a kite. I had been trying to find something a step up from aspirin. Never again.
Today my former doctor occurred to me - Dr. Underwood. Why had I stopped seeing him? Hmm... I think he died. He was a bit mysterious, having a something of a chip on his shoulder. I wondered why. One thing I liked about him, besides being a good doctor, was the lack of arrogance. In fact, I had heard that he graduated at the top of his class. Another doctor was disparaging of him when I mentioned my treatment. The rumor was that he was a drunk. I decided to google him and see what turned up. Not much, but I did find his obituary.
In reading his obituary, I saw that he was survived by members of his family, except his daughter. Who was this daughter? I wondered. I knew her name, but the tragedy was so long ago now that I couldn't find anything. I think I had heard that when his daughter graduated from college he had given her a beautiful car, and she died almost immediately after that in an accident in her beautiful car.
Googling his daughter turned up many other tragedies though. There are many people named Underwood, I guess. One of them was the tragedy of Cierra Underwood. I read her obituary. The usual vague description of a wonderful person that died at age 24. But I didn't have much trouble finding out what happened. Why did I want to know? Curiosity. Cierra had given birth to a daughter in December of 2022, two months before her own death. The father wasn't mentioned in the obituary, so there seemed to be trouble in paradise. I googled, "How did Cierra Underwood die?" and was surprised to find answers. She had taken what she thought was cocaine, but in fact, someone had sold her fentanyl instead. Then she went to her death in the long line of others who had made the same mistake.
She was not alone in her sad death. The father of her daughter was with her, along with someone name J. U. J. U.? J? Underwood? J. U. Cierra Underwood, and Michael Arrington, the baby's father, had all taken the fentanyl thinking it was cocaine. J. U. woke up ill the next day and Cierra and Michael had both died. It made me especially sad to think of Cierra's baby being left orphaned. The good news was that the drug dealer that sold the fentanyl to them was identified by J. U. and was recently sentenced to 18 years in prison.
And what interested me in this sad case? I guess just the chaos of the fentanyl crisis lately. And the sad story itself. I never did find what I was looking for about Dr. Underwood though. But I already mostly know about that.
Martinsville Man Sentenced to 18 Years for Distributing Double, Fatal Dose of Fentanyl
For Immediate Release
U.S. Attorney's Office, Western District of Virginia
Okoyte Gaston Sold Fentanyl-Laced Cocaine
ROANOKE, Va. – A Martinsville, Virginia man, who distributed cocaine that was laced with fentanyl to a pair of individuals that later died from overdoses, was sentenced yesterday to 18 years in federal prison.
Okoyte Devon Gaston, 31, pled guilty in September 2024 to one count of distributing fentanyl.
According to court documents, in February 2023 Gaston, a known drug dealer in Southside Virginia, arranged to sell what was supposed to be one-fourth an ounce of cocaine powder to victim “C.U.” Unbeknownst to C.U., the cocaine was laced with fentanyl.
Gaston met C.U. and her boyfriend, victim “M.A.” and another individual, J.U. in the parking lot of a Sheetz gas station in Franklin County, Virginia. Gaston sold the group what they believed was cocaine for $350.
Shortly after meeting with Gaston C.U., M.A., and J.U. all used some of the drugs they purchased from Gaston. The group then made a short drive back to C.U.’s Franklin County trailer home.
Once there, J.U. said he did not feel well and went inside to go to sleep, leaving C.U. and M.A. alone in the car.
The next morning, J.U. woke up disoriented, nauseous, and incoherent. He found C.U. and M.A. unresponsive. M.A. was still in the passenger seat of the vehicle and C.U. was on the ground outside of the driver’s door.
J.U. called 911 and when police arrived, they pronounced C.U. and M.A. deceased. The medical examiner later determined that both C.U. and M.A. died of acute fentanyl and cocaine toxicity.
Acting U.S. Attorney Zachary T. Lee and Ibrar A. Mian, Special Agent in Charge of the DEA’s Washington Division made the announcement.
The Drug Enforcement Administration, and the Franklin County Sheriff’s Office investigated the case with the assistance of the Virginia State Police, the Roanoke City Police, and the Roanoke County Police.
Assistant U.S. Attorneys Kelly McGann and Keith Parrella are prosecuting the case.
Due to my popularity, many have been calling me. State Farm, Tuna, and an individual whose initial is S. And I kept seeing 'WIRELESS CALLER." I called Tuna. That was important. Tuna doesn't like to talk on the phone, and so after that I called "S". Nothing. Then I looked for the wireless caller. No wireless caller. This is just weird.
I told Mrs. Billingsley it was a big day today. Really? Is it Wednesday? No, it's the 149th anniversary of the Battle of Little Big Horn. Do you remember that? "Sure." "Custer's Last Stand?" "Yes, he won." "I think he lost. The entire unit was killed." It surprised me that she doesn't remember that.
Recently I switched VA clinics. My doctor had moved away and I was left with a nurse practitioner who took it upon herself to cancel all my prescriptions. I looked OK to her. The state is divided in half in a weird way, so that I'm left on the line that divides the two jurisdictions. The new clinic, not being in the same system, had no record on my prescription history. For a while I limped along on what I had left the last time I was able to get a refill. But now I'm out of meds. Totally and completely out. Thanks airhead.
This is not the first time this has happened. A few years ago I couldn't get a refill of a sleeping pill. My sleep situation is due to a neurological disorder that can cause all sorts of chaos, one of them being narcolepsy. One would think, oh, so that would mean there is no need of sleeping pills. Just do whatever it is you do that brings on a seizure. But the reality is that the whole sleep picture is deranged, sometimes causing sudden loss of consciousness, and sometimes causing insomnia. This insomnia is no joke, and has sometimes lasted as long a five days without any sleep. By that time I've begun to hallucinate. There is zero sympathy for people with sleep disorders. Do you suddenly lose consciousness? someone will ask. Well other people drag around tired that would like to take a nap. I should too! But this is not voluntary. The narcolepsy is just like being put under anesthesia. So quit drinking! people have said, even though no drugs or alcohol are causing it. The one and only thing that helps at all is a low carb diet. And sleep medication. Sometimes doctors have tried methamphetamines. That does help prevent sudden unconsciousness, but then I also can't sleep at all for a couple of days. So I don't take the methamphetamines, but I do take a mild sedative at night. Well, I did until the nurse practitioner cancelled my prescription. So now I've been awake for two days. I'm too wobbly to drive or do any of the things I need to do. Mrs. Billingsley has had all this explained to her and says she understands. So when is breakfast? You should see the panic when Mrs. Billingsley doesn't get breakfast. And it's not like I can drive to McDonalds and pick up an Egg McMuffin. It's too risky to drive in this condition. In fact, I went for most of my life hiding the narcolepsy and pretending that I was just incredibly lazy and irresponsible, for fear of losing my driver's license. This reached a critical level when I was in the military. "Where were you today?" I would be asked. In reality I had had a seizure. What I responded was, "What do you mean?" pretending to imagine I had the day off. Insanely, I would get away with that, since they just didn't want to arrest me. People conclude when they notice someone hallucinating that they have severe psychological problems. Neurons misfiring? Whoever heard of that? It's a messed up situation that there is zero tolerance for. "What do you think about when you lie awake at night unable to sleep?" a doctor once asked. Well, I imagine he had jumped to the conclusion that I was reliving the time over and over endlessly when Mrs. Billingsley gave Charlotte a cookie and refused to give me one. "I'm thinking, 'Why am I still awake? Why can't I fall asleep?'" I answered.
I've been calling my new clinic in a panic trying to get the prescription renewed for sleeping medication, and trying to explain the situation. Finally last Tuesday the clinic called and said that the doctor had prescribed the sleeping medication. They would be mailing it in around two weeks. Yikes. When the bitter end of my pill supply came I began to call the pharmacy, trying to enlighten them about the urgency of the need for this prescription. Well, what did they do? They transferred me to the suicide hotline. I didn't know I was talking to the suicide hotline, and the suicide hotline assumed that I had called them to get help with my "suicide attempt." I started to become very annoyed, and told the suicide hotline that I was doing my best to remain calm with them but don't be surprised to take the brunt of what can happen when I lose my temper. It was only then that they came to understand that I had reached them by calling the VA pharmacy and a VA bimbo had transferred me to the suicide hotline, not even a part of the VA. From there I would be routed over to a mental institution for in care treatment of my mental disorder before some tragedy occurred. The people at the suicide hotline were actually doing everything they knew how to do to deescalate the unhinged one in a kind way. So I admitted defeat with my attempt to get my prescription refilled and thanked them and hung up.
Once, long ago, about the time I married Jim, there was a gun show at the state fairground in Tulsa. I decided to go along with my brother. There I met Golden Boy. When I got home I told Jim about Golden Boy, who I claimed to be enthralled with. Poor Jim had never seen Golden Boy and actually believed I had met some guy named Golden Boy in Tulsa, and now, now Jim had been replaced by the golden one. I had assumed that it would be obvious there was no new man in my life named Golden Boy. Well, not to Jim. He almost wept at the horrifying news... Golden Boy had won my heart. So I had some explaining to do.
At one time, Tulsa, Oklahoma sat atop the world's largest-known ocean of oil. Drilling derricks were everywhere, even on the lawn of the state capitol. The city called itself "Oil Capital of the World."
But Tulsa did not build Tulsa's giant oil man. It was built by an oilfield supply company out of Texas, which set him up in 1953 for a trade show at the Tulsa State Fairgrounds. Dubbed "The Golden Driller," the giant roustabout resembled an oversized brass statuette, with a broad grin, a tin helmet tipped back at a rakish skew, and a gloved right hand raised in a kind of limp-wristed OK sign. The statue proved so popular that the Texas company returned six years later with a second temporary giant.
A third giant, tallest of all at 76 feet, took up permanent residence at the Fairgrounds on April 8, 1966. This version still stands today. He was modeled on Oklahoma oilfield worker John Franklin Stephens Jr. and looks very different from the original Golden Driller, with a slender waist, muscles ripped on a bare chest, mustard-colored rather than gold, and a face that's a chiseled mask of Teutonic invincibility. He was designed by George S. "Grecco" Hondronastas (1893-1979), a Greek immigrant to Tulsa who viewed the Driller as his greatest artistic accomplishment.
By 1979 the Texas supply company had abandoned the Golden Driller, which had suffered from years of neglect (and bullet holes). The city of Tulsa adopted the statue, repaired it, and put "Tulsa" on the giant's belt buckle. With that, the statue was declared Oklahoma's official state monument. It was not a universally popular decision. Many Oklahomans at the time viewed the Golden Driller as an artistic eyesore. Some wanted his bare chest covered with a shirt, an idea that was quickly shot down by the protests of angry oilfield workers like John Franklin Stephens Jr.
The Golden Driller is still the tallest free-standing statue in the U.S. He's so high that he rests his gloved right hand on a real Oklahoma oil derrick. Built of steel and concrete, he weighs nearly 22 tons and is expected to survive 200 mph tornadoes. The plaque at his base dedicates him "to the men of the petroleum industry who by their vision and daring have created from God's abundance a better life for mankind."
There isn't much room between the Golden Driller and the parking lot, which means that visitors have to stand near his big boots, enjoying a heads-up view that is both steep and startling. Occasionally someone in Tulsa will suggest that the big man be moved deeper into the Fairgrounds (now called "Expo Square"), where his naked chest and manly pants might be less visible. "I don't foresee that happening," said Sara Thompson, marketing supervisor for Expo Square. "He's really big and very heavy." As for altering the Golden Driller -- which some say has happened in the past to make him less virile -- Sara said that to her knowledge that had never occurred, and never will. "We're very sensitive about keeping his image static."
To show how much Tulsa now loves its mega-roughneck, in 2011 it gave the Golden Driller a thorough inspection (which found him to be in excellent shape), and coated him with a new layer of state-of-the-art mustard paint, which its suppliers said will last 100 years.
In 2020 the statue was briefly modified to resemble Elon Musk, in a creative bid to have Tulsa chosen as the site for a new Tesla factory. It didn't work -- the factory was built in Austin -- and the Golden Driller was returned to his stern, no-nonsense look.
Friday the 13th is thought by many to be the unluckiest day in the Gregorian calendar. Here are 13 facts about this day of ill repute.
Friday the 13th is considered to be an unlucky day by some and lucky by others.
1. It's Unclear Why It Is Feared
Very little is known about the origins of the day's notoriety. Some historians believe that the superstitions surrounding it arose in the late 19th century. The first documented mention of the day can be found in a biography of Italian composer Gioachino Rossini, who died on a Friday the 13th. A 1907 book, Friday the Thirteenth, by American businessman Thomas Lawson, may have further perpetuated the superstition.
Others believe that the myth has Biblical origins. Jesus was crucified on a Friday, and there were 13 guests at the Last Supper the night before his crucifixion.
Another account suggests that the day has been associated with misfortune since 1307 when on a Friday the 13th, the French king gave the orders to arrest hundreds of Knights Templar in France.
So real that one scientific name wasn't enough. The fear of Friday the 13th is also called friggatriskaidekaphobia or paraskevidekatriaphobia. Now say that 10 times really fast!
Friggatriskaidekaphobia comes from Frigg, the Norse goddess of wisdom after whom Friday is named, and the Greek words triskaideka, meaning 13, and phobia, meaning fear. Paraskevidekatriaphobia is also derived from Greek: paraskevítranslates as Friday, and dekatria is another way of saying 13.
3. ...And Very Common!
Experts say that friggatriskaidekaphobia affects millions of people and estimate that businesses, especially airlines, suffer from severe losses on Friday the 13th.
Triskaidekaphobia, or the fear of the number 13, is even more widespread. So much so that many high-rise buildings, hotels, and hospitals skip the 13th floor, and many airports do not have gates numbered 13. In many parts of the world, having 13 people at the dinner table is considered bad luck.
4. Friday the 13th Can Come in Threes
A bit of bad news for all of you who suffer from friggatriskaidekaphobia—all years will have at least one Friday the 13th. The good news is that there cannot be more than three Friday the 13ths in any given calendar year. The longest one can go without seeing a Friday the 13th is 14 months.
6. Friday the 13th Patterns Repeat in the Calendar
There is a calendrical method to the madness of Friday the 13th. Whenever a common year begins on a Thursday, the months of February, March, and November will have a Friday the 13th. This will happen 11 times in the 21st century.
The February-March-November pattern repeats in a 28-year cycle. In the 21st century, the period began in 2009. In 2015, 6 years later, Friday the 13th occurred in February, March, and November. This won't happen for 11 more years until 2026, and we'll have to wait again for 11 years until 2037 to see the February, March, and November trilogy.
This pattern will repeat itself starting 2043, 6 years after 2037.
7. Even During Leap Years
Three Friday the 13ths can occur in a leap year as well. If January 1 of a leap year falls on a Sunday, the months of January, April, and July will each have a Friday the 13th.
In the 20th century, this happened in 1928, 1956, and 1984. And in the 21st century, this will happen four times in 2012, 2040, 2068, and 2096. Notice something interesting? Yes, it is the 28-year cycle again!
8. Fittingly, Alfred Hitchcock Was Born on the 13th
The master of suspense was born on August 13, 1899—so Friday, August 13, 1999, would have been his 100th birthday. He made his directorial debut in 1922 with a movie called Number 13. Unfortunately, the film was doomed from the start and never got off the ground due to financial troubles.
Other celebrities and well-known personalities born on a Friday the 13th include actors Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen; novelist and playwright, Samuel Beckett; and former President of Cuba, Fidel Castro.
9. It's an Unlucky Day Only for Some
Friday the 13th is not universally seen as a day of misery. For example, in Italy, Friday the 17th and not Friday the 13th is considered to be a day that brings bad luck. In fact, the number 13 is thought to be a lucky number!
In many Spanish speaking countries and in Greece, Tuesday the 13th is seen as a day of misfortune.
10. ...And Research Suggests That It May Not Be Unlucky After All
There is very little evidence to show that Friday the 13th is indeed an unlucky day. Many studies have shown that Friday the 13th has little or no effect on events like accidents, hospital visits, and natural disasters.
11. The Day Inspired One of the Highest-Grossing Film Series
The commercially successful Friday the 13th enterprise includes 12 horror movies, a television series, and several books that focus on curses and superstitions. Even though the films and the television series consistently received negative reviews from critics, they have a considerable following. The mask worn by the key character in the movies, Jason Voorhees, is one of the most known images in popular culture.
12. ...And a Country to Raise Safety and Accident Awareness
Since 1995, Finland has dedicated one Friday the 13th in a year to observe National Accident Day. The day aims to raise awareness about safety—on the roads, at home, and at the workplace.
13. An Asteroid Will Safely Fly By the Earth in 2029
On a Friday the 13th! Friday, April the 13th, 2029, to be exact. When 99942 Apophis was discovered in 2004, it was thought to have a small chance of colliding with Earth. But you can rest easy because since then, scientists have revised their findings which show that there is absolutely no risk of the asteroid impacting the Earth or the Moon.
Do you like being kept awake all night by thunderstorms? I sure do. That's what happened last night.
It seems rainier than usual this June. I suppose that was somehow caused by our President. Or the wrath of God. Mostly what I'm trying to figure out is if there will be a tornado. The rain is nice. Distant thunder is nice. Crashing cymbals all night is not nice.
These thoughts cause me to check the weather. There are several options on the internet. Are they reliable? Hmmm.... Somebody's not reliable, because if you see the prediction for the highs and lows, one will tell you about 70º, the other about 88º. Also, they can't get together on whether it will rain, or if there will be a thunderstorm. They sometimes seem to look outside to see what's going on, and still get it wrong.
You know what annoys me with the weather sites and their weather reports? Suppose you would like to check weather in your area. Will it rain? Will it be hot today? Who cares? There's a tornado in Lubbock Texas! If there's a tornado in Texas, your weather is suspended. All you will hear is that there's a storm chaser live and there will be video of someone's dash cam showing the highway in Lubbock Texas, a lot of rain and the windshield wipers going back and forth. Every now and then there will be a radar map of the Lubbock area showing the intensity of the storm in Lubbock. And will this storm hit anywhere else in Texas? Then videos of flowerpots that were blown over. It's all perfectly well and good to report on tornados, but other people need to hear a forecast about their weather too. You'll not find anything on the internet for the rest of the day and most of the night about weather outside of Lubbock. Then...."The saga of Lubbock," "The Tragedy of Lubbock," "Stories of the Lubbock Survivors...Their Fears, Their Courage, Their Hopes and Dreams."
Another favorite thing to do is to cancel the weather because there is a warning. Then I suppose the weather people take the rest of the day off. The weather radio will have an endless loop about going to your safe place. What kind of gear do you need to take? Oh, let's see. An umbrella. One of the more interesting videos was a broadcast from a TV station doing the weather report. They reported on a tornado in the area. Someone took a camera to the window.. Yep. That's a tornado. It's coming this way. Soon everyone was scattering to the storm shelter. The weatherman continued his report, urging viewers to go to their safe place. Soon the video goes topsy turvy.
It's been an exciting day. I had trouble going to sleep last night, for no reason that I know of. I lay awake most of the night wondering what other people were doing. What time was it in India right now? At some point I fell asleep, and woke up predictably late, around 9:30 am. What a wreck. I got up quickly to check on Mrs. B. She was dozing in bed still. OK. I fixed her protein drink and brought it out. She noticed me putting it nearby. After she drinks her drink, she is supposed to wait about 25 minutes to absorb the protein goodness before eating. So I decided to go lie down for a few minutes. The next thing I knew it was about 12:30 pm, Wednesday afternoon. I had fallen back asleep till afternoon. Cheesh. I zoomed out to check on Mrs. Billingsley. It was definitely coffee time, and I was infinitely relieved that I had gotten the coffee ready at around 9:30 am. So I poured the coffee and doctored it up. What was that I heard? There were noises in the driveway. ??? Oh dear. A vehicle had pulled up. Not now. Please!! I delivered Mrs. B her cup, and me my cup. Finally it dawned on me that the noise had been the trash collectors picking up the trash. A frightening thought occurred to me. Yesterday I had taken out the trash, around three bags. I had almost convinced myself to take it out this morning, which wouldn't have happened. A cold chill ran down my back, thinking of how close I came to missing trash day for the week. My poor head was reeling from the weird sleep and just waking up and not able to function yet. Mrs. B asked where breakfast was. I told her she was having coffee soup for breakfast. This was going over like a lead balloon. I debated with myself the wisdom of trying to make breakfast before having coffee. Mrs. B was convinced that she had already had coffee, but she thought that because logically coffee would have happened about three hours ago. "How would you like sardines for breakfast?" I asked. She made a less than enthusiastic remark, but I managed to put sardines in a bowl and bring that out for breakfast. So that's how squirrelly things are today. It's nearly 3:00 pm. I'm almost ready to start the day. I don't get it. What happened?
