Notes from The Heroin Forum

        Following is a synopsis of the notes my husband, Joe, took at the community panel meeting about heroin. The forum entitled “Heroine in Alabama” was presented by local National Public Radio affiliate WBHM  last week. Over 300 people attended the meeting, a testament to how serious the heroin problem is in central Alabama.  There were two panels of five people each who answered questions from a moderator and from the audience.  The panels were composed of experts in the field of drug abuse research, law enforcement, and recovery.  This segment is focusing on heroin the drug.  Joe will give a synopsis of his notes on treatment and law enforcement issues on a later blog post. 

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 Facts from the Heroin Panel Meeting at Work Play

Alabama is the number one state in the country for opiate abuse from prescription painkillers.   One theory as to why this has occurred links physician protocol to chronic pain management. In the early 1990’s it was common practice for physicians to prescribe opiates to patients with chronic pain who found little relief in over the counter medications. Physicians considered those who were low risk to opiate addiction and prescribed opiate painkillers for routine pain management.  In recent years a high incidence of abuse and addiction has made prescription painkillers much harder to obtain.  The lack of availability for prescription drugs has moved more people toward the use of heroin, which is relatively cheap, very powerful, and easy to get.  In turn, Alabama has become a large market for the drug, which is most likely manufactured in Central and South America. Drug cartels actually "brand" their heroin by labeling it, much like types of cigarettes. Also, the strength of heroin is not always consistent between batches, so the same dose could produce a high one week and lead to death by overdose the next.

 The Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) lists the three worst drugs in North Alabama as Methamphetamine, Heroin, and Cocaine.  Heroin use is growing at an alarming rate, and is expected to continue to spread throughout Northern and Southern Alabama.  There still seems to be a bit of a stigma about using heroin, but it is vanishing. Drugs that are considered the pathway drugs to heroin use have little stigma at all.  Some abusers are even skipping the pathway drugs and starting with heroin.

          Heroin basically changes to morphine once it enters the body.  It attaches to nerve receptors and creates euphoria.  Unfortunately, it takes more and more of the drug to create the same feeling as the body's tolerance of the drug goes up.  A pattern soon develops in which the user needs more and more of the drug.  Some addicts say that at some point it stops being about getting high and instead becomes about just not quitting and avoiding the pain of withdrawal. They are angry they have to have the drug, but they will do almost anything to get it.  Addicts will stop seeing people as people.  They see them as either obstacles to them getting high, or instruments in helping them get high.  When addicts are high, they are mellow and euphoric.  When they are not high, they can easily become angry or violent. 

          One noted statistic:  the demographics of a heroin user are white, upper middle class, and well educated.  Most are in their twenties. Heroine is typically used in a suburban location, but purchased in an urban location.  Some addicts admitted to using heroine to cope with other life issues.

           One panelist, Judge Joyce Vance, considers heroin the most lethal drug ever.  The Birmingham area had 147 documented heroin overdoses in the past year, which is higher than the number of murders for the same year. The death rate from heroine is rising among whites.  

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I can't post a blog without a little ray of hope. So you ask, what can we do? How do we stop this monster? I do not have the answers, but I have a few suggestions. I think we need to educate people about the use, abuse, and availability of heroine. I think we need to come together as a community of faith and offer support and love for families dealing with these issues. And most importantly, we need to pray. Pray for the knowledge and wisdom of how to this situation. Pray for the families. Pray for the addicts. Pray for God to intervene! Pray! Prayer always offers a ray of hope!

                                                                                      

Just like a Carnival Ride

        It is hard to write about visiting anyone in prison and truly express the emotions and feelings that permeate before, during, and after a visit. For those who have never had the opportunity, the experience is much like a day at an amusement park complete with all the stomach turning, gut wrenching, head aching and pleasure filled moments as a trip Six Flags.  Each step is like entering a new carnival ride, uncertain of the feeling it may bring.   The anxiety and worry combine with excitement and expectation to produce a tense, uncertain, yet pleasurable sensation that remains long after the day is done.

         My husband and I start out, now on a Saturday morning, with a long trip before we reach our destination. We are excited, yet a little unsure of what lies ahead. We have on our comfortable shoes for walking the distance and standing in line. We have plenty of money for snacks since we cannot take anything with us into the establishment.

         We meet at the entrance with all the other visitors, most of whom have come early in order to get the most out of the visit. We line up in order of our arrival and sign in time. We are all there for the same reason, identical goals and objectives. We all hope for a good experience, but we know that there may be a sudden change of events that disrupts our journey.

         We wait with anticipation as we begin our first ride of the trip. When my name is called I step forward. My stomach drops. The ride begins. I hold my breath as I walk through the first tunnel. The slightest bit of unnecessary baggage will set off a loud alarm. I hold my breath and pass through in silence. I've made it through the first ride.

         I relax and enjoy a brief moment of relief before the second ride. After a prior bad experience on this ride, I feel a panic attack building. I take some deep breaths and try to convince myself that everything is going to be ok. I feel my breakfast trying to break free from my stomach but I fight it down. I smile at the attendant the whole time, but inside my head is pounding. I watch as the wand circles my thighs and buttocks area. I listen, but this time there is no electronic clicking, no printer typing, and no trace of chemical residue. I have escaped the wrath of the Ion Scanner. My head clears, my stomach settles and I head on to the third ride.

       The third ride is the most enjoyable. With the exception of a few safety issues, (They lock the doors behind you as you move from one area to the next.) this ride is pleasant and fulfilling.  It's a peaceful ride, much like a floating down the Lazy River, no ups and downs just calm, smooth gliding. I get to spend time with my son, get my share of hugs and kisses, and talk about the future and not the past. For a few hours, I get to be a mama who has nothing better to do than love on her first born. This is the time The Lord allows me to remind Matt of his purpose in life, to reassure him that God has a plan for his life, to fill him with hope.

        The last ride is quick and easy. It's a reverse of the first rides, but without the anxiety and worry. With a simple check and a notation of the time of departure, we are ready to head home. Like any day at an amusement park, it is exhausting. The constant tension that comes with uncertainty, takes both a mental and a physical toll by day's end. The best part are the memories that I keep until my next trip.

          Whether it's a trip to prison, dealing with death, disease, divorce, or any problem, we all feel like we are on a carnival ride at times.  We feel tossed and tumbled, confused and disoriented. What we need is the calm and peace of knowing things will work out. The ride is only temporary. What lasts is the peace of knowing that a savior by the name of Jesus Christ controls the ride. He can calm the sea. He can stop the ride. Even better, He can hold our hand all the way to end of the journey! Praise The Lord!

Another Complete Christmas

            With a son in prison, it's another Christmas without my complete family. That seems to be the norm since my grandmother left us. I remember the Christmas Eves of my childhood, with aunts, uncles, cousins and food. Now we are lucky to get a meal where everyone can sit down and eat peacefully. We actually accomplish that better at Thanksgiving now that we go out for our turkey dinner.
            Christmas feels different since my visit to Israel last March. I must say that Jerusalem and Bethlehem were much too commercialized for my ideas of the Holy City, but I found comfort and connection with my Lord and Savior on the mountainsides and the valleys. Much like life itself, I had to get away from the busyness and the masses to find my peace with God.
             On one of our daily trips, we visited the old city of Capernum. There we saw the actual house of the mother-in-law of the Apostle Peter, the place where Jesus healed her. I knew without a doubt that Jesus had been there.
         While standing alone in the ruins of the synagogue having a quiet time with my Lord, I asked if He had been where I was standing. In my mind I recalled the verse in Matthew 28 where Jesus said "low I am with you always." No words had been spoken until I answered with the comment, "Yes, you are!" When I spoke the words I heard  "Yeshua" which is the Hebrew name for God.
That was an "aha! " moment for me! I had felt the presence of the living God right in his own country, right where he had stood, right where he had healed, right where he had lived . Even though I was in Israel, I had felt Emanuel, God with Us, the same one who is with us now at Christmas and forever, the God who is with us always, wherever that may be.
       Those memories of Capernum have encouraged me this Christmas season. Through Christ, my family IS together.  We are a complete family, even when separated.  My son may be in prison, but Emanuel is with him and with me. Praise God!

A Most Unusual Opportunity

       Today I was given a most unusual opportunity for service. While loading borrowed tables for a yard sale, I was approached at the door of my church by a strange woman who had appeared out of nowhere. She had seen the cars and moved on the opportunity to ask for help.  It was obvious from her smell that she had not bathed in some time, yet her skin was not dirty and the clothes she wore looked clean. She explained her plight but my mind was hearing the words through the filter of a skeptic.

         As she spoke, I began to feel an unsettling in my abdomen. I knew she was about to ask me for money and I was not in any mental state to entertain questions. I was busy. Too busy to even think up excuses for why I had no money or who I could refer her to for charity. Her most immediate need was money for gas.

         I continued with the task at hand and told her the only thing I could do at the time was go with her and get some cash from my bank. She agreed without hesitation. I could tell by the sneer on the face of my companions that they doubted her sincerity and truthfulness. Yet, something in that small voice I call a conscience told me to listen. Trust my inner feeling. Open up my heart.

        I decided to take a chance. My mind began to overflow with questions and thoughts. What if that were my Matt, homeless and hungry, even if it was because of his own actions? Would someone take a chance on him? If everything really is a gift from God, why am I so hesitant to give money to a total stranger? Would God want me to feed his sheep even if they were drug addicts?

        Shaking from the emotional stress I pulled into the service station. A simple thought had changed my course of action. I explained that I only had a credit card, but I would buy them gas and a meal. She agreed and pulled next to the pump. After purchasing the gas, I invited them to meet me at the Dairy Queen.

          I waited briefly in the parking lot, contemplating my actions. When they pulled up all 3, yes 3, got out. I knew without a doubt I had to pray with these strangers. I had to go one step farther than simple charity. I had to tell them that God loves them unconditionally.

         As I stepped up to the counter, I told the young man that these were God's guests. They had approached me with a need and I was going to feed them. His response was heartwarming. He said not many people do that now days, so he was going to give me his employee discount. His gesture was assurance that I had made the right choice.

           We sat down to wait on the meal and I seized the moment. I reassured them that regardless of the reason they were where they are today, God loves them. I prayed for their deliverance from these circumstances and I thanked God for giving me the opportunity to be His hands and feet.

           Having a son in prison has changed my perspective on people and really life in general. Hardships have a way of molding our character, of bringing us closer to God, our Creator and Protector. For those of us who try, we can see others a little more through His eyes and less through our own.  If we look closely, we just might see a glimpse of His Glory. Better yet, we just might get to BE a part of His Glory. 

Visiting Prison: A View From the Inside

Visiting Prison: A View From the Inside

A View From the Inside

Once again I have a blog entry from Matt. I have been encouraging him to write about his experiences. Not only is it therapy for him, it helps answer many questions that people have asked me about what it is like on the inside. I hope you enjoy his thoughts as much as I do.

Stepping into a Maximum Security Federal Penitentiary is a learning experience, and you must learn very quickly.  There are 4 custody levels in the Bureau of Prisons with penitentiary being the highest. Without question, they are the most dangerous as well.  In those types of places, the threat of violence is constantly looming - in fact, it is the glue that holds everything together.  After all, what good are rules and ultimatums without consequences for breaking them?  The punishments for all violations are physical; to what degree depends on the seriousness of the infraction.  Because of this, the United States Penitentiaries (or USPs) are places of utmost respect.  If you were to take a hundred inmates from all custody levels the USP prisoners would definitely stand out. 

For example, when I first arrived at an FCI Medium Security facility, I was about to take a shower.  As juvenile as it sounds, who has next usage of any given facility is determined by “who called it” - just like second grade.  There was one shower open and after inquiring about who was waiting, I got in.  As soon as I did, I saw an older Italian guy, maybe 65 or so, appear in his shower garb.  I wasn’t sure if he was waiting, and I hadn’t started bathing yet, so I got out and let him shower out of respect.  I was there first and in the right, but respected an older, seasoned convict. Later on in the evening the man came up and introduced himself as Anthony.  He said, “So kid, what Pen did you come from?”  Perplexed, I asked him how he knew that because not many people go down to mediums from maximums.  Anthony replied, “Respect.  I been doing this a while kid, and you can tell the Pen guys.  Plus, you were wearing your boots to and from the shower.”  In the USPs, all the inmates wear their boots to and from the shower for safety reasons.  If someone is going to attack you, the best time is when you have your guard down, like going to the shower in flip flops.  In really tense times, another inmate would escort you and stand guard while you washed off.  Crazy huh?  Anthony saw that no one but me was wearing boots to the shower. 

Because of that one small gesture of respect I gave him, Anthony could tell everyone he associates with that I was a stand up guy.  Because he is respected himself, his approval was as good as a platinum credit card.  As a matter of fact, on my way to lunch the next day there were no less than 15 New York and Boston guys that I had never seen or met who spoke to me.  “How ya doin’ pal?  You need anything, you let us know.”  Word travels fast, and it travels even faster when there is a negative report. 

So now you can see how crucial a positive image is in prison - it can be a matter of serious injury, even life and death.  Respect and one’s word are the only currency convicts have on the inside, and once either of those is compromised (even a little), they both fall away.   In here just like so many other places in life, anything worth having has to be earned. 

A Letter from Solitary

           On this journey called life we never know when we are going to hit a bump in the road. If we stumble and fall we have to pick ourselves up and move on. It is easier task for some than for others.
We found out last week that Matt's scheduled move to a minimum security facility has been delayed. Two days before his departure he was attacked by a new inmate and transferred to the SHU or Special Housing Unit. He sent this letter that reminds me of the son I once knew. I want to share it with you.

Mom,

How's it goin"?  Well, I guess you know it's not going very well here.  This is the craziest thing - it's even got me a little bit depressed.  I'm really struggling right now.  I just can't figure it out - I don't bother anybody, all I do is my schoolwork in the morning, exercise for a couple of hours, and then relax in the evening.  It's like I'm cursed in this prison and trouble follows me.  I just need to get out of here.  I'm waiting to see if I still leave on the next bus, which is August 6.  If I'm not gone by then, I will have to take RDAP and get out.  I'll let you know.  Pray for that to happen.  If I don't call or e mail you by August 8th, then I'll be stuck here for another couple of months.  

Don't forget the crosswords because I really need them.  As many as you can 7,8,9 a day even.  It's pretty bad back here, and I still haven't got my property so I can do my schoolwork.  Jeez, everything is falling apart.  I'll make it though.  Sorry all of this happened, but I probably would have gotten hurt badly if I hadn't defended myself.  This is prison, and anyone in here is capable of anything at anytime.  Believe it or not, I did the right thing.  This is just a different world than we've ever seen.  I just look at is as the "Rehab of all Rehabs" - this is what I have to go thru to get clean for good.  Well, I gotta go for now, but just pray for things to work out - you used to always tell me that.

I love you and Dad, and really appreciate everything you do, have done, and tried to do for me.  I can only call out once a month, so I should get to use the phone again until I'm out.  I'll write and keep you posted. 

Love you,    Matt