This question was originally posted on Quora.com and was answered by Alfredo A. Sadun, Professor at University of California, Los Angeles "100mg of methadone." That’s what he said when I asked him how much he was taking. He was in withdrawal, squirming and sweating, and I was about to admit him as part of his detoxing and needed to put him on methadone again. I was an intern and this was in 1978. But I had been told by my residents that methadone users lie. And since they are not good at math, they usually just double their real dose. They don’t want to just get through the withdrawal symptoms, they want to get high again. So I gave him 50mg and checked in on him shortly thereafter. He wasn’t overdosed and he wasn't in withdrawal anymore. “Good,” I thought. But not good to him. He was mad. He demanded to know why I hadn’t given him 100mg of methadone. I said something about looking out for his best interests. He jumped up in a threatening manner. I backed up towards the door. He grabbed the 5-foot-tall lamp with a heavy base and on a skinny aluminum post and went after me. There I was, running down the hall being chased by a tattooed addict waving a long lamp. But if you thought I was scared, you didn’t take in the full image. He was running barefoot with his hospital gown flapping open at the back. He wasn’t in the best of shape and was clumsy and awkward carrying the long pole. I was 28, and could easily outrun him in my scrubs. So I was just trying not to fall down or laugh too hard. But he kept coming. I ran by the nurses’ station. Our hospital was laid out as giant squares with nursing stations at the hubs. I told them I’d be back in 5 minutes. Sure enough, with him still chasing me, I swung by the nurses’ station again, as promised. But this time there were two security guards standing by the wall. They took him down in a few seconds. His last words to me? “I didn't lie to you.” Source
