Gurli Bagnall's Story

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http://www.benzo.org.uk/

 

Gurli Bagnall's Story

The Birth of The Bounty Hunters

 

Ordering Details

 

My Experience

 

In her book " Benzo Junkie " , Beatrice Faust tells how one of the

fears she used to experience, was sustaining some sort of injury that

would leave her brain damaged. In the benzodiazepine experience, she

said, the thing she feared most, had happened. It happened to me as well.

 

I had been married for twenty-one years when, in 1975, my husband

and I called it quits. It was a traumatic time and I was not sleeping.

My friendly doctor prescribed Ativan, a drug that I had never heard

of. Thankfully it worked – but only for a few weeks. " Never mind, " he

said. " We'll simply double the dose. " And from there on, it was all

downhill.

 

I lost a home, a teaching career, financial security, friends and

much more. I could only read hesitantly and by the time I got to the

second line, I had forgotten what the first was about. I carried a

dictionary in my handbag everywhere I went, because I could no longer

spell, and when I tried to express myself verbally, the brain would

not release the words. I am writing things today, that I could not

have read, let alone understood, while I took benzos.

 

Teaching was out of the question and trying to earn a living by

other means – any means – was part of the nightmare and I welcomed the

times when I felt so sick, I had to stay home.

 

In 1983, presenting the typical picture of a benzo addict, I

sought the help of another doctor. " I'll give you something that's

much better for insomnia, " she said as she scribbled out a

prescription. " Take these with the Ativan. " I had never heard of

Halcion either. The nightmare continued with a vengeance.

 

Apart from work where I was considered to be slow, quiet and

withdrawn, I lived in total isolation. My home was my refuge. There I

closed the door against the world that judged by what it saw, and

dealt with my misery as best I could.

 

In 1985, with no answers in sight, I tried to commit suicide by

taking an overdose. In 1986, I feared that I would lose my job and

therefore the small flat I now called home, so the doctor prescribed

an anti-depressant – Doxepin. It did nothing except make me put on

weight fast and my face became so bloated that I couldn't recognise it

in the mirror. " Tut tut! " said my doctor. " You really must exercise

self control! "

 

By May 1989, although still very confused, I felt I had to come

off the drugs. I raised the subject fearfully with my doctor who, to

my surprise, agreed it would be a good thing to do. But I was shocked

when she referred me to the drug and alcoholic clinic of the local

hospital. " Why is she sending me there? " I agonised. " I'm not a drug

addict. All I've ever taken are the pills she prescribed. " Exactly!

 

I only attended a couple of sessions because even in my befuddled

state, I realised the counsellors hadn't a clue what they were dealing

with. A social worker took me to a TRANX meeting and I met Vicky, a

recovered victim, who made herself available for telephone

counselling. She has my life long gratitude.

 

I dropped the Doxepin straight away; the Ativan took four weeks,

but that once-a-day low dose Halcion tablet took me another five

months during which it was substituted with Valium for " easier "

withdrawal.

 

In the three years the doctor prescribed Doxepin, my weight had

increased by 50%. I now know that excess weight gain and facial oedema

are the adverse effects of that drug.

 

Symptoms of toxicity, withdrawal and post-withdrawal are listed in

some medical journals but they are only words. Nowhere are they

translated into terms that reflect the human suffering.

 

In those early days, I learnt that whatever frightening crisis

arose (and they came thick and fast), my chances of surviving each

event were greater if I rode it out at home alone, for during the

first year of being drug free, I nearly died three times due to

medical intervention.

 

During this period I drew a lot of cartoons. They took the dignity

from those who claimed respect, but who deserved only contempt. It

gave me something to laugh at and helped to defuse the anger.

 

In 1991, a specialist diagnosed the ongoing post-withdrawal

syndrome as the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I'd never heard of that

before either, but he acknowledged it had been triggered by the

benzos. It didn't take long to discover that this diagnosis was like

jumping from one very hot frying pan straight into another.

 

This poorly understood disease has had many names – such as Yuppie

Flu which is as trivialising as the CFS. Currently, there is a move

afoot to use Myalgic Encephalomyelitis as the official title but that

is hotly contested by certain people – particularly within the

psychiatric community. They want to claim CFS and all those who suffer

it, as their exclusive property.

 

The WHO categorises it as a disease of the nervous system which,

in the benzo context, is no surprise. Nevertheless, just as the

medical establishment denied iatrogenesis, so most still deny the

disease simply because they do not understand it.

 

Fighting back

 

In the early 90s, I started to fight back. It was very much a case

of fighting for my survival for I no longer had the income to service

a mortgage and meet the added expenses associated with my health.

 

I submitted a claim for medical misadventure to the ACC (Accident

Compensation Corporation). During my long and traumatic dealings with

them, my medical records were misrepresented, my sworn statement

destroyed, attempts to intimidate and obstruct were regular

strategies, the drugs and their uses were re-categorised and more. If

I hadn't already learnt the lesson, I learnt it now – to a very large

section of the medical community, ethics and the Hippocratic Oath

stand for nothing.

 

I won the battle but at great cost to my health. And even then it

did not end for the ACC is very fond of such phrases as " disentitle

the claimant " .

 

Current Status

 

To date, I have lost twenty-five years of my life. I am housebound

and need home help. How well, I sometimes wonder, would the

perpetrators handle that which they inflicted so casually upon others?

 

The Reason for The Bounty Hunters

 

In the early 90s, the media in New Zealand picked up on the UK

debate about whether or not to ban Halcion. Our medical profession was

outraged that such a thing should even be considered and the media was

castigated for alarming people who took the drug. The establishment in

NZ, came up with a brilliant measure which they obviously thought

would please everyone. They banned the high dose tablet but kept the

low dose, overlooking the fact that those affected, would simply

double up on the number of tablets they took.

 

Amongst all this nonsense, one high profile professor of

psychiatry suggested it would be a good idea for people to stop taking

Halcion and he recommended the up-coming long weekend as the ideal

time to do it. " The first night, you won't sleep at all, " he said

cheerfully. " The second night won't be much better, but by the third

night, you'll be so zonked out that you'll sleep right through! "

Presumably, to return to work as fresh as a daisy on the fourth day.

 

Worse still, was the doctor to whom I read the riot act about

eighteen months ago for expressing the opinion that benzo addiction

was in the same category as addiction to shopping.

 

It is frightening that such ignorant people are first, legally

entitled to prescribe dangerous and toxic substances and second,

having caused the damage, are unable to differentiate between a

psychiatric disorder, and behaviour symptomatic of brain damage.

 

The Birth of The Bounty Hunters

 

It took two years to write " The Hit Mob " , an account of my

dealings with the ACC, but I was not able to find a publisher. It is,

of course, a controversial subject and one that sounds bizarre to

people who have never experienced anything like it. But I also believe

I was too close to the trauma at the time of writing. I needed to be

able to step back and look at the picture objectively.

 

When I got to that stage, I decided to write a novel, a thriller

if you like, based on the facts of benzodiazepines. I felt it might

have more general appeal in that form and still get the message across.

 

Californian based, London Publishing, specialises in producing

electronic books and they accepted The Bounty Hunters for publication.

 

Gurli Bagnall

April, 2001

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