SOUTH UNION STREET

Opioid council urged to see addiction in personal terms

Brian Lyman
Montgomery Advertiser

If the state wants to tackle addiction, Deirdre Johnson said, officials will have to think not only about public policies but the reasons individuals turn to drugs in the first place.

A bottle with a hydrocodone (the generic name for drug sold under other names by various pharmaceutical companies) label and hydrocodone tablets spilling out isolated on white background. Hydrocodone is a popular prescription semi-synthetic opioid that is used to treat moderate to severe pain. Hydrocodone is said to be one of the most common recreational prescription drugs in America.

Oftentimes, said Johnson – a peer recovery resource coordinator with the Council on Substance Abuse (COSA) in Montgomery who has been sober for 18 years – people embrace drugs because they have no other ways to escape personal crises or traumas.

“Somebody comes along and helps them escape it, and they stay there,” Johnson told fellow members of the Alabama Council on Opioid Misuse and Addiction at their first meeting Tuesday. “They don’t mean to get stuck ... it’s a power that comes over you and you’re no longer your own anymore.”

Helping individuals overcome that power in the context of a statewide strategy will be a large challenge for the council, formed to address the state’s opioid epidemic.

Alabama has the highest rate of opioid prescriptions in the country. According to a report by the Associated Press and the Center for Public Integrity, there were 1.2 opioid prescriptions for every resident of Alabama in 2015, compared to a national average of 0.71. Alabama’s deaths from drug overdose grew nearly 20 percent between 2013 and 2014.

“It rises to the top of the list in terms of wreaking havoc with our state, because we have not stemmed this tide,” said State Health Officer Tom Miller, one of the co-chairs of the committee.

The council will look at data, regulations and possible future legislation to address the issue. Gov. Robert Bentley, who established the council by executive order last month, said Tuesday he was hopeful that they could see proposed bills before the end of the 2017 legislative session, which begins Feb. 7.

“There are various things we need to look at,” Bentley told the council. “Do we look at education, more laws, restrictions on the use of medications?” adding that he might expect a pushback on some issues.

Whatever the approach, Bentley and members of the council stressed the need to avoid stereotypes of addiction.

“It has no socioeconomic level,” the governor said following his remarks to the council. “You can be rich, you can be poor. It doesn’t matter.”

Sarah Harkless, director of the Alabama Department of Mental Health’s Substance Abuse Treatment and Development office, read from a widely-shared obituary of Cassidy Cochran, a 22-year-old who died of a heroin overdose last year.

The family mentioned Cochran’s overdose in the obituary “to shine some light on an illness that is taking the lives of far too many” and urged people to remember that she “isn’t just a statistic, she was our sunshine, even when she kept us awake with worry.”

“Thus, it is important to remember Cassidy wasn’t just her illness; she was our daughter and our friend,” Harkless read. “Words cannot describe how much she will be missed.”

As most initial meetings are, Tuesday’s inaugural gathering of the council focused on organizational tasks, including the creation of subcommittees to study law, regulations, data and possible legislation.

Johnson and Pearl Partlow, a certified recovery specialist with COSA, said after the meeting that addressing addiction required a “holistic” approach. Both Johnson and Partlow said in rural communities, transportation to get to treatment – along with job training and opportunities to allow recovering addicts a chance to bounce back – are often absent.

“First you’ve got to know it is there, and know what’s provided,” Partlow said.

Johnson, who served time in prison while battling her addiction, said “people get stuck” often because there seems to be little hope of ever getting well or changing one’s life. In her case, Johnson said, she would reach out to drug treatment centers, only to find she couldn't get in for one reason or another, such as a lack of beds.

“I had to go back into an environment where everyone was getting high,” Johnson told the council in an emotional recollection. “And I didn’t know if I’d make it.”

Johnson said those with addiction struggling to get better may only find minimum wage jobs that may not pay enough to allow a person to provide for children. In those cases, she said, they may give into despair and return to drug use.

“They go back, saying ‘What’s the use?’” she said.