Escape the Grip: how oxy and fentanyl steal your life—and Dr. Agresti’s 33-year buprenorphine blueprint gets it back. Oxycodone starts as a pill for back pain, fentanyl as a patch for breakthrough agony—then the ceiling drops. Mornings begin with dread, evenings end raiding medicine cabinets, and every promise you make—just one last time—turns to dust. Bills stack, kids pull away, sleep’s a myth. West Palm’s sun feels fake when your body’s screaming for the next dose. I saw it in my first patient back ’87: a mom who lost custody because Oxy made her forget her own daughter’s birthday. Enter buprenorphine—tiny orange strip under the tongue, no heroin rush, just quiet leveling. After thirty-three years, I’ve watched lawyers, nurses, pilots strip the chains off in my office. You taper cravings, rebuild neurons, keep your job—no white-knuckle cold turkey. I wrote the book on it; it’s called Back from the Brink. If you’re in West Palm, my MAT clinic opens at nine—call the number on the site. You’ve waited long enough.