4/08/2020

Opioid-Related Overdoses Are NOT A "Crisis" Or "Epidemic"


As someone who trains and educates on the impact and elimination of stigma, this may be one of the most important articles I've read in some time about why words matter.  The need to reframe and reconsider the language we're using to better address the upstream issues that contribute to addiction we currently ignore is going to be critical.

Normally I'd only post a snippet of an article and let you chase it down at the link.  But because no link lasts forever and this piece is so important and insightful, I chose to share the article in its entirety.

Words matter.

I send a gracious and humble hat tip and "Thank You" to Bayla Ostrach and Virgil Hayes, authors of this piece for an amazing read and a powerful call to action.

Nuff said.
https://www-thefix-com.cdn.ampproject.org/c/s/www.thefix.com/causes-of-increasing-overdose-deaths?amp

Overdose Deaths: Not an Epidemic or a Crisis, and Not by Accident

Prison with cells on either side of a walkway.
Opioid-related overdoses are not a crisis or an epidemic, and should not be described as either. Both words stigmatize the victims of a phenomenon that is not happening by accident. Such overdoses have been steadily increasing throughout the United States and are especially high in Appalachia (where we both work). Yet overdoses are not a natural or mysterious phenomenon. They result primarily not from individual, but from larger structural factors — criminalization of drug use, ineffective social policies, poverty, lack of stable housing, historical and persistent racism, and other forms of systemic oppression — which are all the result of deliberate policy decisions.
We are told by the media, CDC, and state governments that the region where we live and work is ground zero for a drug "crisis." Yet those same entities contribute to the problem through policies, funding allocations, and covering-up of underlying systemic causes. We must shift our language to reflect this. Substance use and overdose happen in predictable contexts and disproportionately affect marginalized communities.

Terms Like "Epidemic" and "Crisis" Cause Alarm and Hysteria, Stigmatizing People Who Deserve Compassion

More than 67,000 people in the United States died from opioid-related overdose in 2018. Alarmist headlines, even well-intended reports, do not justify an inaccurate framing. We advocate instead for the use of the term impact, or other language that indicates the underlying roots of suffering, instead of epidemic or crisis.
Epidemic is most accurately used to describe infectious or viral spread of a disease within a population over a short period of time. Substance use, even for the relatively low 18% of people who use "chaotically," does not meet this criteria. People who overdose or suffer negative consequences of substance use may be more socially or genetically vulnerable to a substance use disorder but in basic epidemiological principles, that does not an epidemic make. Calling structural violence that leads to specific overdose patterns an epidemic or a crisis feeds into a hysteria that marginalizes drug users and their loved ones. Both words take the focus away from the underlying causes of suffering; naturalizing it and leaving the conversation at a surface level without motivating real change. 
We both work in and study harm reduction and overdose prevention in North Carolina: a microcosm of opioid-related deaths and specific patterns of suffering repeated elsewhere in Appalachia and throughout the country. Daily, we observe the dynamics of economic policies, limited healthcare access, and stigmatization that impact people already at greater risk for substance use and overdose. Later in this essay we discuss how it plays out in North Carolinians’ overdose risks — making it more likely they and their loved ones will be blamed if they do.

How Misguided Drug Policies Blame the Victims While Ignoring the Causes

Like the thousands of lives lost to fentanyl poisoning in the context of increased drug use criminalization today, there was nothing natural about the thousands of lives lost to alcohol poisoning during prohibition a century ago; or the increase in deaths and drug-related arrests that ravaged inner-cities during the government-manufactured "crack era" of the 80s and 90s. Consequences of drug use, like mass incarceration, have never been a natural disaster. Instead, policy responses to drug use tend to create systemic storms that rage in vulnerable communities. This is a classic example of blaming the victims of problems while ignoring the causes.
If a "crisis" is happening to those around you, you may feel bad for them, you may vote for a politician who promises to address it — but you probably won’t ask how the same politicians or political system contributed to creating it, or how arresting and jailing poor and Black and Brown people will fail to fix it. Overdose deaths in the U.S. have always been both a symptom and outcome of discriminatory policies
Suffering is further exacerbated by punitive policies such as drug-induced homicide laws that increase overdose deaths, weaken Good Samaritan legislation intended to reduce overdose, and criminalize drug users and their loved ones. For example, opioid de-prescribing mandates in 19 states appear to result in an increase in heroin overdose deaths. And, healthcare policy is an oft-overlooked aspect of overdose prevention -- states that did not expand Medicaid (which increases coverage of treatment) are disproportionately states with higher overdose and substance use.
Mainstream media portrays sympathetic stories of the middle-class sons and daughters of urban politicians dying of overdose, while the stigmatized partners and friends of poor Appalachians who disproportionately die of overdose from drugs often laced with fentanyl fear being arrested under ‘drug-induced homicide’ and ‘death by distribution’ laws if they call 911. The ways that drug users are talked about serve political agendas that further contribute to patterns of suffering.
We must acknowledge and address what is missing, obscured, and ignored when we promote an inaccurate framing of drug use as a "crisis" or "epidemic," rather than something caused by policy decisions. Who is disproportionately blamed? Who is left out of the conversation? 
When we fail to address how a combination of economic, political, biological, behavioral, genetic, and social factors intersect within the lives of drug users and their wider communities, we legitimize the use of simplistic and punitive approaches to complex issues. Where we live and work, North Carolina policy makers used the 2016-2017 increase in drug overdose deaths to justify an argument for harsher punishments despite a wealth of research that shows that such approaches increase the very health consequences they claim to reduce. Further, these approaches do nothing to address economic disparities in North Carolina, which continues to experience greater rates of every form of poverty than most of the nation, despite the so-called recovery. They do nothing to address the lack of Medicaid expansion or limited employment and economic growth — all upstream drivers of overdose and suffering.
Simply put, an increase in overdose deaths is not the result of society’s inability to get tough on crime, or even the need for more biomedical treatment. Rather, overdose deaths persist due to an unwillingness to acknowledge that treatment expansion and more or harsher punishment fail to address gaping social wounds

Communication: Start Using Language That Reveals the Roots of Unequal Suffering

As long as policymakers, politicians, and journalists continue to use inaccurate terms like “opioid crisis/epidemic,” opportunities are missed to discuss and address the causes and effects of substance use and overdose. We advocate for talking instead about “opioid impact” or “overdose impact.” A more neutral term like impact is less stigmatizing and hyperbolic, and thus less marginalizing for those directly affected. Impact is also more flexible — not all drug use is harmful, nor leads to substance use disorder, illness, or overdose. Impact is a more accurate and flexible term to allow for discussion of people’s lived experiences with substances.
Even so, it may not go far enough. As a parallel example, public pressure and justice-oriented advocacy shifted public conversation and journalistic style from talking about human beings as “illegal” to “undocumented.” But referring to these same folks as “economic refugees” would be even more accurate and less stigmatizing. Similarly, impact is a more useful term than "crisis" or "epidemic" when referring to patterns of opioid-related overdose and substance use-related illness. And, terminology that clearly unmasks the deeper roots of unequal suffering would be even better.
A person using drugs is not a disease vector nor the precipitator of a crisis. What we witness in communities like PhiladelphiaAustin, and Asheville are not drug-related epidemics or naturally occurring crises. The harms impacting these communities are symptoms of destructive social policies that ensure the most vulnerable populations remain vulnerable, shamed, and disproportionately suffering from the very problems for which they are blamed. 
So where do we go from here? We can start by answering this with another question: How might our conversations, and thus policy and response efforts change, if we use language that reveals the structural roots of suffering instead of further contributing to stigma and hysteria that shames the people who are most directly affected?

3/19/2020

Reefer Madness 2020

Sigh. I am so sick of this intentional reefer madness; this is exactly the kind of idiocy that harms the effort to educate folks accurately on drug use and feeds the ignorance and draconian policies that have created mass incarceration in the US.  Furthermore, when you lie to those of us who've used drugs like cannabis for any length of time, we call "bullshit" on this stupidity and it creates a cognitive bias within us; we almost always default to a position of "anything the government or "researchers" try to tell us, we know the opposite is true."

Don't believe me?  Ask anyone who uses substances what they think of the DARE program.

Regarding the article that generated my rant here, let me make a few points before flushing this piece of "research" down the nearest toilet:
  1. I don't know anyone who uses "intravenous THC," nor have I ever, nor would I want to use "intravenous THC," and of course it would be associated with a "slightly more pronounced" increase in ANY symptoms or effects - good or bad. Any 1st year med student will tell you that medically-speaking, "intravenous administration is the preferred route of administration of any medication."
  2. Anytime "scientists" tell you that tobacco use might be "protective" in any way, you know you're dealing with questionable and sketchy "researchers." 
  3. The authors themselves tell us that "many of the meta-regression analyses used involved fewer than 10 studies and were underpowered to detect small or moderate effects, which is a limitation... More participants were male than female, so the generalizability of these findings is also limited."  In other words, this "meta-analysis" is fraught with problems, grossly inaccurate, almost certainly biased (see #4 below), and should never have been published and pushed into the field.    
  4. The disclosure list reads like the who's who of Big Pharma.  Surprised we don't see Big Tobacco (although I'm sure they were proud to see their murderous product highlighted in a "positive" way) and Big Alcohol brand names in there too.  




...
However, intravenous THC was associated with slightly "more pronounced" increased symptoms than inhalation, although this may be confounded by dose, they added.
The induction of psychotic symptoms was also lower in people with higher versus lower tobacco use, suggesting tobacco use may be a "protective factor," the authors noted, although they cautioned against using tobacco to "counter" THC effects.
Howes told MedPage Today that "[another] possibility suggested by other evidence is that tobacco reduces the levels of the protein in the brain that THC binds to so it has less effect. This needs testing, and it is important that people don't think tobacco will protect against the effects of THC containing cannabis."
Many of the meta-regression analyses used involved fewer than 10 studies and were underpowered to detect small or moderate effects, which is a limitation, the authors noted. More participants were male than female, so the generalizability of these findings is also limited, they added. Researchers were additionally unable to differentiate the effects of THC on specific symptoms, like hallucinations or delusions.
Disclosures
The study was funded by the UK Medical Research Council, the Maudsley Charity, the Brain and Behavior Research Foundation, Wellcome Trust, Rosetrees Trust, the Stoneygate Trust, the National Institute for Health Research (NIHR), and King's College London.
Howes disclosed support from Angellini, AstraZeneca, Autifony, Biogen, Eli Lilly, Heptares, Janssen, Lundbeck, Lyden­Delta, Otsuka, Sunovion, Rand, Recordati, and Roche. Co-authors disclosed support from, and/or relevant relationships with, Dana Foundation David Mahoney Program, Neurocrine Biosciences, Clinical and Translational Science, the National Centre for Advancing Translational Science, the NIH, VA R&D, the Heffter Foundation, the Wallace Foundation, Takeda, Angellini, AstraZeneca, Autifony, Biogen, Eli Lilly, Heptares, Janssen, Lundbeck, Luden-Delta, Otsuka, Sunovion, Rand, Recordati, and Roche. A co-author disclosed serving on the Physicians Advisory Board of the Medical Marijuana Program for the State of Connecticut.
Hjorthøj and Posselt disclosed no relevant relationships with industry.



Nuff said.

3/01/2020

Fun Vs Risk

Was recently watching a show on these crazy dudes surfing "monster" waves in Hawaii and thinking "these sunsabitches are crazy....I wanna try it!"  Then on comes the guy who's towing these guys out into the big waves behind a jet ski, and he says he'd be out there, if he was 20 or so and still had those high levels of young man testosterone.  Seeing as he was 49 however, he said, "I see life differently today."

Yeah.  I understand that.  It's that same kind of feeling I have when I think about riding my motorcycle after 40+ years of  travel, dirt-biking and touring pretty much the entire United States on two wheels (I haven't made it to Hawaii or Alaska on a bike... yet).

But today I don't heal as fast, and if I do go down in something serious, do I lose my job because I'm unable to work?  What if I'm forever disabled as a result?  I've had enormous luck in my life when it comes to escaping certain death from stupidity, but one day, that luck will turn.

Oddly enough, coupled with this sage wisdom is a deep and pervasive pang of regret.  Deep because there's so much still to do; pervasive because almost everywhere I look today, I realize I wasted the time in my life when I could have - and would have - been doing those things that today are simply beyond my ability to muster.

It isn't because I physically or mentally can't.  I can and still do occasionally, but today, I don't far more than I do because...

Too much to lose and the risk...outweighs the fun.

Proud Scooter-Trash Wife at Thunder on the Mountain in Virginia City, Nevada 2003

Nuff Said.


2/24/2020

The Journey

The image in the mirror lights the fuse
The nightmares of the past provide the cues
The dreams were dead but have returned
The life I wanted and always yearned
It's here today and the journey earned.