Federal Opioid Conference

Ottawa, November 18, 2016

I travelled to Ottawa for the Federal Opioid Conference last week, November 17th and left Saturday November 19th. I did this for us, for Moms Stop the Harm (MSTH), in the names of all our sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, our loved ones that we have lost or have been fighting for. But mostly, I did this for all the people in Canada who are at risk and/or suffer with drug addiction.

There were about 250 people invited to this conference, most of whom attended. On the side of doctors and scientists, law enforcement, and politicians there were many. NGOs such as ours were in sparse attendance. There were very few people who are actively using opioids or in recovery, in attendance.

On Thursday, the 17th I was part of the small delegation from B.C. which included the BC Premier, Christy Clark, Health Minister Terry Lake, Assistant Deputy Justice Minister Clayton Pecknold, Chief of BC Emergency Health Marilyn Oberg, addictions doctor and researcher, and director of the newly formed B.C. Centre for Substance Use, Dr. Evan Wood. In addition there was Mikaela Mamer, a 25 year old woman in recovery, and Judy Robertson, who has a stepson in active addiction.

The Premier had arranged a much sought after private meeting in the Parliament Building between us and Health Minister Jane Philpott and Minister of Public Safety, Ralph Goodale. Much press, much security, and nervous waiting.

The meeting went very well. The federal ministers listened closely to talk of our children, the effects on families of addiction, the dangers of fentanyl, the frustrations for law enforcement and emergency services, the scientific evidence on medically assisted treatment, how mental health, the lack of doctors trained in addictions and accessible treatment and recovery beds which contribute to addiction and death. We specifically asked about the repeal of C2 which puts up barriers to safe injection sites (The Safe Community Act), and were told by Dr. Philpott that she is working on it but could not give a specific date – just ‘very soon’. No details were given.

I had laid out on the table all the photos I had of our sons and daughters. There were about twenty five photos. Those photos were the most powerful things in that room. All talk centered around the reality of us losing these kids; the fact that these represented ‘everyone’s children’ was clear.

When it was over in about an hour, we had been heard. The ministers know what is needed. After there were press conferences, interviews on CBC, CTV, radio and more TV. Awareness was at an all-time high.

The next day, Friday, was the actual Opioid Conference. It was 9 hours of presentations by addictions doctors, provincial health ministers and other provincial appointees, police, and heads of organizations such as the Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, Pharmacists, Toxicology, First Nations Health, and so on. There were only three speakers with lived experience.

I was totally engaged all day, but it is not until today that I have been able to step back a bit and assess the experience critically. There was a massive amount of information delivered. The preponderance of it was on harm reduction measures. The over- prescribing of opioids was a hot topic. Education, alternative pain treatments, surveillance (data collection), statistics, supervised consumptions sites, naloxone and suboxone were on the table.

What was missing for me was the discussion on crisis management, recovery facilities, family centered treatment, stigma and attention to mental health and addiction. Also missing was the most important link of all – ending the failed, brutal war on drugs.

I said publicly on three different platforms, that we must end the war on drugs. That is, we must decriminalize and regulate opioids, cocaine and marijuana so that people, including those who are using, or addicted, or impacted by the drug cartels and mafias of the world, those who cannot receive the drugs they need both in the hospital setting and in private, are safe.
The whole experience was full, frustrating, informative, exhausting, in some part successful, and necessary.

I mentioned Moms Stop the Harm at every opportunity. I felt that you were all standing behind me. There will be progress but I do not yet see how it will roll out. When and if I get the report from the Summit, wherein the legislators met and discussed action, I will forward it to you all.

Leslie McBain

Speaking to university students about drug safety

Yesterday I gave another "Danny Talk" to students at MacEwan University where I also teach.
This was a message from one student after the talk: "Thank you so much for speaking up on this topic. Thank you so much for bringing this all to light. Thank you so much for challenging it. I can only hope that your group is heard and that organizations open their minds and realize that knowledge is power and focusing on harm reduction is what needs to happen."

It is always very rewarding to speak to students and to share our story, explain about the need for harm reduction and make recommendations to keep people safe. Speaking to students (future nurses and future educators) means to pay forward and to inform future practice. This is the third talk this semester and after every talk there are at least one of two students who have a friend or loved one who struggles with substance misuse. All these individuals promised to get a Naloxone kit for themselves and their loved ones.

Petra Schulz

Naloxone Training


With the province making a dedicated push to get  Naloxone out to first responders and those working on the frontlines with those struggling with addiction who live on our streets, I was very keen to get some training and ensure I have a  kit as part of my own first aid equipment.

One of my son’s close childhood friends is also struggling with addiction and lives with his girlfriend who has a Heroin addiction. I reached out to the mother of this young man and asked if she would like to join me as she could pass along the kit to her son. We connected with Heather Hobbs of Aids Vancouver Island and spent an hour at their agency walking through the kit and how to administer the Naloxone. It was an eye opening hour not only to learn the ins and outs of administering Naloxone, but also to get a sense of what agencies are dealing with on the street level in terms of the number of overdose incidents. She shared that a week doesn’t go by where the staff are not administering Naloxone. She also talked about the importance of getting safe injection sites up and running as soon as possible and shared that many people will come to “use” substances in their stairwells just because they know someone may come upon them and help if they overdose.

There is no question that the use of Naloxone is saving lives. Included in the kit are three ampules of this life saving drug and there is no risk to injecting individuals with all three of the ampules if someone does not respond to the first or second injection. In speaking with the RCMP regarding my son’s passing, they mentioned that if they come upon an individual who is unconscious and they are uncertain if it is an overdose, they will still use the Naloxone nasal spray with no adverse consequence. It was an informative hour and I left feeling very committed to getting the word out regarding Naloxone and encouraging individuals, middle/high schools, nightclubs, etc. to have this as part of their first aid kits.

Naloxone kits can be purchased for roughly $50 at major pharmacies without a prescription and you can request that a pharmacist give you a run through on how to use it.

Jennifer Howard

Presently trying to save my beautiful daughter after a near-fatal overdose

My journey as a mother to Victoria began on a rainy January 14th at 7:35 AM in St. Paul's Hospital, Vancouver. Holding her in my arms, I promised her I would protect her from harm and love her to my last breath. Twenty-five years, 9 months, 15 days and 11 hours later I am back at St. Paul’s, sitting at my daughter's bedside, holding her hand, staring at her in a coma—tube down her throat—watching machines keep her alive.

I knew this day would come.

Victoria

Victoria was a beautiful, funny, special child—sensitive and attuned to others. Everyone she met was instantly drawn to her. She was popular, loved, and respected by her peers for her perception and her unusually mature reasoning. She was sought out as a counsellor by her friends...and even my own. She began playing soccer at nine and that was the start of weekends filled with sports. When soccer was over, field hockey began. She was good and was even scouted while playing in the rep soccer league as a teenager. Offers of full scholarships from universities came in. At 18 she was taking her prerequisites to start a bachelor of science degree and regularly achieving 100% math scores. She worked hard. Her employers loved her and she was spectacular at saving money and planning for the future. She taught herself guitar. She was a very bright and beloved girl.

Sounds like a pretty great life so far, doesn't it?

The Real, Real

But while all these positive things were happening, every day and every minute Victoria suffered extreme anxiety and depression. I tried hard to seek relief for her. And, it seems, so did she. The Dr. Phil producers called one day. Victoria had written to them pretending to be me and selling our family as ideal for the show and thus eligible for free therapy for a year. I declined the offer and kept searching for help. There was none. One day in May 2009 Victoria left the house for the day. She didn’t return for the entire weekend. This was completely out of character for my responsible, caring child. She started disappearing regularly.

Then she started to miss work. This was the biggest sign that we were in trouble. Friends and family were gobsmacked. People tried to comfort me saying Victoria was going through a stage and she would come to her senses soon. But she didn’t come home I knew this wasn't a teenager’s seeking thrills. It was her fight to quiet the agony in her mind and nerves.

Street life

Victoria has only shown love to her family—this beautiful daughter of mine keeps all her hate and shame for herself. On the street, she finds comfort with the marginalized people, some of them from families that only harm and abuse. She shows them extreme compassion. Victoria feels free from any expectations or judgment when she is with them. But during her time on the street, she was raped, hurt. I may never know how hurt. She found relief from the pain in drugs and alcohol, and about eight months ago, Victoria found her perfect haven from the agony—heroin.

Heroin wraps her in a warm embrace where she feels safe and everything is good. Except this escape has another way out: death. Death answers when you seek permanent release with heroin.

Fighting for my Child

When the ICU medical team told me she had been out of oxygen for over an hour and that, if by some miracle she woke up at all, the likely prognosis was severe brain damage, all I thought was, “Thank god! I'll be able to bring her back to safety. I can hold my daughter and bring her home. The nightmare will be over.”

But Victoria defied the odds. She woke up from her coma. She sat up. The breathing tube was removed. She spoke. She was back. She hasn't escaped brain injury. Her heart is damaged. And there are other consequences we won’t know about until later. But she is alive. For now.

It's Not Over

She was released from the ICU and transferred to the 10th floor—the addictions, HIV, and infectious disease unit at St. Paul's. She has been certified under the mental health act. This is keeping her here. She wants her drugs but she is trapped. I sleep beside her. I have been with her 11 days. Watching my daughter teeter back from death so that I can hold her again.

As I write sitting on my mattress on the floor, I am under no illusion that Victoria will snap out of her addiction and say, “Mom! I want treatment. I need my life back!” She is too entrenched. Her brain is too hardwired with the compulsion to medicate.

But something else is happening. She hasn't bolted. She stays because deep down she knows she needs help. This is a slight hope. I can’t hope too much. Too much hope is exhausting. But I will not leave her side. I promised her that over 25 years ago.

The art of detachment.
Survival.

Right now Victoria can't run away from my love, her dad’s love, from the love of her sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles, and friends. She is kept in one place to witness this love. Maybe she is starting to see herself through their loving eyes. Just a little. This is very good. Maybe when she gets out, she can let this love be recalled and sink in to warm her. To find comfort. To find her way home to herself.

I know she isn't doing this to me but nothing is more painful than seeing your child doing this to themselves.

I have a long fight ahead with Victoria. I can't let it kill me when she walks away. I have to be there for our three other children. I have to let go of sadness and shine with love.

Someone Please End the Madness

Addiction is killing us. The front-line teams of medical, addictions, and psychiatry in this hospital are fighting a heartbreaking epidemic. It is a crisis and the casualties just keep coming in. It's a revolving door. I don't know how these professionals do it.

They have said that my being here by her side, constantly fighting for her, never happens. Why? Because we need to end the stigma. Normalize this disease that affects every single person in our country and across the globe. They wage war against our children when they declare war on drugs. Legalize drugs so that we can get the supply out of the hands of organized crime. We need more research. We need funding for every town across our country to be able to offer evidence-based treatment and harm reduction.

Let the lost and hurt be guided to other ways to handle their pain while being given solace in the open by professionals.

Why is this so impossible for government to understand? Maybe it is because the powers that be are lacking empathy—the ability to understand and share the feelings of others. In a way, I hope so. Because if they truly do understand and do nothing...it is unforgivable.

Sarah Rae, Pender Island, BC