Michael is my middle son. He fought hard trying to stop his addiction to Opana, Xanax, and Oxycodone but the drugs won. They were relentless, exposing their ugly head around the corner or just right up the street.
Michael loved working on cars and electronics. From a very young age he would take electronics apart and once put back together they would work better than before. Working on cars was Michael’s passion. If anyone were having car trouble he would usually set aside whatever he was doing in order to go help the person who needed him. Most times he did this for free, as well as on many occasions he would purchase the part needed if it were not expensive and if he had the money.
The day of Michael’s death, he had just been released from eight months of incarceration. We hoped and prayed that after this stent in jail that he would remain drug free. We were tragically wrong. After our phone call with Michael, my husband and I decided to go visit before I had to be at work. I had been in a bad mood that day. I had woke and had a terrible feeling, I knew something bad was going to happen to someone. I just didn't know who this bad thing was going to happen to or what was going to happen. I couldn't shake this feeling and anxiety was rearing its ugly face. I worked that day. I wanted to call in and spend that day with Michael, but I couldn't because there was no one to cover my shift. Oh how I wish that I had called in anyway but as everyone knows, hindsight is 20/20.
At some point, Michael got his hands on Opana and Xanax, never taking into consideration that he was eight months sober and his 6’2” body could not tolerate that much medication. Additionally, mixing the drugs, he created his own death cocktail. According to Michael’s autopsy report, they found no new track marks so unless he hid it well, he crushed the pills and snorted them rather than injected them. There is a lot more to Michael's story. It would take a lot more time but I know positively that from approximately 8pm until pronounced dead at 2am Michael had fought hard to live.
The city detective was ”supposed” to investigate Michael’s death, but we live in a small town and to them he was ”just another addict” who took more than he should have and died. End of investigation. Michael was an addict but he was my son, he is not just a statistic.
Michael was released from jail at 10am and was pronounced dead at 2am, Michael only survived 14 hours after he was released from jail the day he died.