The Worst Anniversary

I lost my son two years ago on this day. It was Valentine’s Day, 2018. He died almost immediately after taking a single dose of a street drug.

Here is an excellent list of the deadliest drugs. You need to read it, because at one time or another, chances are, you’ve been on or used them. Most are prescription drugs or even over the counter drugs. Easily obtained, most of them legal. Number one will shock you. I was surprised that I’m on or use more than four of them yet have never been warned by a doctor or pharmacist of how they can interact with horrible results.

But my son didn’t die from any of these. It was fentanyl, an opiate much more powerful than morphine. If the dose is too high, as the street version almost always is, especially mixed with heroin, the result is depression of respiratory function, quickly followed by pulmonary shutdown. If not found and quickly treated by CPR and Narcan, the victim dies; biological death doesn’t take very long.

When my son was checked on by his mother, he was already blue and had vomited just before going fully unconscious. At the time he would not have been able to speak. No cry for help. Just a suffocating death.

If you have heard of fentanyl but don’t seem to anymore, there’s some parents in Ohio you might want to consider. This sad and horrific story should break your heart.

My heart is broken. Has been so many times I’ve lost count. You begin to wonder how much a heart can take. I’ve often wondered how I’ve taken so much and lived. The deaths of my children have left me with a mind that avoids thinking about what happens after death; where they are. After his first fentanyl overdose my son was changed. He talked of seeing his sister in Heaven, of running and playing on lush grass with a happy heart. Months later I got the call from his grandmother. The call I’d known was coming but dreaded. My boy was gone.

Fentanyl simply kills. Patches for pain relief are serious business. First responders to a street version overdose wear hazmat gear. They have to. A few grains of powdered fentanyl are as strong as half a bottle of morphine. Merely touching it is extremely dangerous.

Narcan is essential to have on hand when you live with an opiate addict. Unfortunately, the death toll from fentanyl goes on.

In an instance where a user is unresponsive, administer the Narcan. Start CPR if necessary. Call 911; there’s no time for Poison Control. It’s life or death. Mostly its death. You can never stop it all. Addicts lie. They tell you they’re clean. Ask for money for McDonald’s or a pack of cigarettes. Next thing you know you’re standing beside a coffin in a fucking cemetery.

I can’t advise you. I’m sorry. All I can do is grieve with you.