Huntington Fire Chief Jan Rader, Necia Freeman of Brown Bag Ministries, and Boone and Lincoln County Drug Court Judge William Thompson each spoke to students of the West Virginia School of Osteopathic Medicine (WVSOM) on Tuesday, January 21, as part of the school’s ongoing efforts to teach about drug use.
Rader and Freeman were both featured in the award-winning documentary Heroin(e), which highlights Huntington’s efforts to battle the opioid epidemic. Thompson’s drug court and its participants were also highlighted in a piece by NBC News.
WVSOM’s event began with a screening of both Heroin(e) and NBC’s coverage of the Boone County Drug Court, giving the students a glimpse into the speakers’ worlds. The panel then took the stage.
Freeman explained her intention for the event – to get the medical students to consider who else an addict might be, beyond them being an addict. She told the story of one, using the pseudonym Grace, who she brought to the emergency room. Grace had a record with the hospital, leading to the skepticism about why she was in the ER.
Freeman was met with a question from a staff member she knew personally.
“He goes ‘what are you doing here with her?’ And I said ‘Let me tell you her story.’ So I told [him] about [her] dad selling her, having her teeth pulled, selling drugs, selling her to his friends, and as the tear runs down his face he says ‘I will never look at them the same.’ What is sad is that we had to have this event for that to happen. What I want [is for] you all to go into it looking at them correctly, instead of looking at them another way.”
Grace, after insisting she was not looking for drugs, was taken in and checked by Rader, then working as a nurse, who diagnosed Grace with pneumonia.
“Had Grace not had a normal person, if that’s what you call me, to take her hand and walk into the ER and say ‘I’m going to stay with you until we have an answer,’ and had not a compassionate nurse not said ‘I’m going to see that you are taken care of,’ she would still be on the streets today,” Freeman said. “Her life has been transformed.”
Grace has now been clean for a year and half, has a job, and is working towards a GED, according to Freeman, although she recently lost a sister who remained involved with drugs.
How many chances should someone have to recover? The seemingly unanimous response from all three speakers was as many chances as it takes. Naloxone, also known as Narcan, is a drug able to cancel out the effects of opioid drugs, even as a person overdoses on the drug. Thompson spoke in favor of its use.
“I’m going to build up on what my two colleges have said about compassion,” said Thompson. “I watched the movie Herion(e) several times – [there is a scene where Rader] goes in the firehouse and passes out the naloxone and [emergency responders] asks ‘do we have to give it?’ That offended me, when I watched that, because I had to deal with it as well. I have probation officers, they’re trained in naloxone use and a couple of them objected to it. … We’ve all heard horror stories, I’ve had people come in front of me that have been [treated] with Narcan 15, 20, 25 times. Maybe on that 26th time they might actually get it. And that’s still someone’s son, someone’s daughter, someone’s mom or dad and until you’ve been to a funeral, and I’ve been to several, of someone who’s overdosed and seen their mom, dad, children, react, no one has that right to play God. We’ve got to try to save them as much as we can.”
Thompson noted that each of the individuals featured in the drug court piece are still alive and that he is optimistic about the future of addiction treatment.
“I’ve got to say that our society is becoming much more compassionate to people who suffer from substance abuse than it was even five or six years ago,” Thompson noted.
Emergency responders’ mental health was also raised by an insightful question about Herion(e) – in one moment of the film, an emergency responder jokes about drinking to deal with the trauma of responding to overdoses.
Rader explained how difficult it can be, using one hypothetical call as an example.
“Me and five of my big old burly guys run into her house while she’s in bed and start slapping her face and rubbing her sternum saying ‘get up, you overdosed,’” said Rader. “We probably gave her Narcan, which not only wakes her up, but throws her into withdraws. Then she’s pissed because she doesn’t know any of us or the uniforms, we look like cops, and [she says] ‘you busted my high and now I’m sick’ with nausea, vomiting, body aches, all over. So they’re mad at us and we’re mad at them because ‘Good God you’re not grateful that we just saved your freaking life.’ It’s a very negative event, it’s not a teachable moment for first responders or the person who overdosed.”
This frustrating situation is also one of the better possible results of an overdose call. Continuously responding to these calls can leave first responders with trauma. Rader recommended every first responder do what they need to relax, decompress, and take care of themselves. In order to combat the effects of this in Huntington, mindfulness and wellness training has been implemented, as well as a first responders dinner once a month, lasting from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m., giving a communal place for them to see friendly faces.
Although still a pressing concern, locally overdoses do not present the same level of problems as they do in Huntington. Among the audience is Assistant Chief Marisa Dunbar of the Lewisburg Fire Department, who explained that their department does not see anywhere near the level of overdose calls as Huntington does.
“I could probably count on two hands the number of legit overdoses that I have run since being here. It might be more than that, but not a whole lot,” explained Dunbar. “… We get stuff in and out but we don’t get stuff quite as bad as that area. It comes in waves – a bad batch of something will come through and we’ll get overdoses. … We’re pretty fortunate around here, we don’t do them everyday.”
The lessened load keeps the fire department from seeing quite the same amount of negativity, but this doesn’t mean responding to overdose calls doesn’t still come with a toll.
“Seeing the families is hard. Having the parents find them [under the influence] when they’re supposed to be recovering [is hard],” Dunbar said. “It would just be nice if they could get some help.”
Dunbar also noted that once a month, the fire department spends a weekend together in the firehouse, socializing and catching up on work. She explained that, for her, the coming together provides a sense of comradery.
Although the county has several resources for those dealing with addiction in the criminal justice system, such as the Greenbrier County Drug Court and Greenbrier County Day Report program, Dunbar also noted that adequate resources for those looking to get treatment can be hard to find.
“One of the problems too is that we have a couple of short-term places around here, and by around here I mean within an hour of us, and the long-term places [require] people to travel,” Dunbar said. “… That makes it hard too. Another thing [is that] these places don’t pay for themselves.”
Dunbar also reinforced the largest takeaway from WVSOM’s event – the lesson of compassion.
“Something that I try to stress and remember myself is that those people that we go out on for overdoses, they are someone’s family. They’re not just an addict. They’re someone’s family. … I think that’s an important aspect for us to keep in mind as we’re treating them.”
Read more in the Tuesday, January 28, 2020, edition of The West Virginia Daily News.
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