Pubdate: Sun, 07 Apr 2002 Source: Trenton Times, The (NJ) Copyright: 2002 The Times Contact: http://www.njo.com/times/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/458 Author: Donovan Slack Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/heroin.htm (Heroin) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/rehab.htm (Treatment) HARD TIMES, FALSE DREAMS FOR CITY'S HEROIN ADDICTS TRENTON At the crack of noon, Charlotte rolls over and scrunches into a fetal position, hoping the pain will subside. She would rather stay in the shabby suburban motel room and sleep, but the beast in her belly won't be silenced. Shivering with cold sweats and aching bones, she pulls on yesterday's clothes, lights a cigarette and heads into the city for the day's first bag of heroin. "I just gotta get it in me," she says, out of breath and feeling sicker after the hour-long walk from home. Boo is working his normal corner, just down from city hall. When he sees Charlotte, his eyes light up. He knows all the drug fiends after servicing their habits and his own for more than 10 years. "Boo, I'm sick. Can you help me out with one?" Charlotte pleads. "I'll pay you back later, yo." He nods and scuttles inside a nearby row house to dip into his stash. He emerges and palms Charlotte a small wax-paper bag with a polar bear stamped on the front. "40 below" is etched in small blue letters under the bear. Charlotte's step quickens to a near run as she makes her way down the few short blocks to the "condo," one of about 2,000 vacant houses in Trenton. She pulls back the board propped against the front door and steps inside. "Yo, that's the bomb," she exclaims, snorting the ash-brown powder through a plastic tube she salvaged from an old pen. She rips open the bag to get to the last granules, then throws it on the floor into a heap of broken beer bottles, used syringes and other trash that clutters what used to be a living room. Charlotte springs to life. "I gotta do something," she says, stepping out into the crisp March air. "I can't do this anymore. My body isn't up to it." Charlotte is 38 years old but looks closer to 50. Her skin is a pallid white, and her shoulder-length brownish hair has thinned to wispy tufts that she smooths back from her face. A pink and white jacket hangs on her tiny 5-foot-2 frame. She's been a crack addict for 19 years and a heroin addict for six. Yet she is quick to laugh, and there is an unmistakable smile in her glassy brown eyes. Every day she battles the beast, and every day she says she has to do something to get clean. "I can't kick on my own, and there ain't nothin' in Trenton," she explains. "Word on the street is there's a two-month waiting list for detox, and even then, you're lucky if you get in." The word on the street is dead-on. Thousands of addicts in Mercer County - between 1,300 and 3,300, the state says - have to wait weeks or even months before they can get detox treatment. In the meantime, they have to keep using to stave off the pain of withdrawal. In the past five years, every detox facility serving impoverished and uninsured addicts in Mercer County has closed. The county Department of Human Services now distributes funding for 265 bed days, according to Sylvia Mulraney, department director and chief of addiction services. With typical stays lasting three to five days, that means between 53 and 88 addicts can get a county-funded detox slot each year. Another 20 to 30 indigent users get detoxed each year, but only because some providers are willing to barter for insured Mercer addicts. Still, the number served doesn't come close to meeting the need. Victor Lopez works as a project manager in a small gray office at the Trenton Treatment Center on East State Street. From 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., Monday through Friday, he screens and refers indigent addicts to available treatment. "I had two people in here crying with their bags packed yesterday," he says matter-of-factly. "There were no beds. I had nowhere to send them." The addicts had no money and no insurance. He told them they would have to wait until a bed opened up in three weeks at Maryville Inc., a residential treatment center in Williamstown, Gloucester County. "If you've got insurance, you've got it made," he says. "If you don't, they don't want to talk to you." Two of every three addicts need treatment that is far more extensive than a brief detox to kick their habit, experts say. They need continuous inpatient or outpatient care for weeks, months or even a year. Lopez says he expects this year's public funding for detox beds will dry up before summer. "Right now we have to tell people to just hang in there until a spot opens up," Lopez says. "In two months, I'll be telling people to go cold turkey because there's no money." A brisk wind whips an empty Cheese Doodles bag down the sidewalk and past the stoop where Charlotte sits briefly, waiting for her regular clients to drive by. She took up prostituting last year to pay for her heroin needs - plus a little crack cocaine to top off the high. She says she learned the craft by watching "the girls" on Greenwood Avenue. Charlotte's ex-husband used to give her money, but he doesn't support her habit anymore. He does support her two teenage children in his North Jersey home. She left them six years ago when heroin consumed her life. "It was just too much," she says, scanning the passing cars on Genesee Street. "I didn't want my kids to see me how I was." A middle-aged man driving a green minivan slows and pulls over to the curb. "You all right?" the driver calls out. "Need a ride?" Charlotte runs over, leans in the passenger window for a few seconds, then returns to the stoop. Within 15 minutes, the scenario repeats two more times with different drivers. "Got a cigarette?" says the third one. Then, the magic words: "How much?" After a brief negotiation, Charlotte jumps in the gold Honda and disappears around the corner, returning after about 20 minutes. "I charge $25 for (oral sex) yo, but people who don't know how to negotiate pay $40," she says. The Honda driver didn't know how to negotiate. Charlotte fingers the two crisp 20s as she makes the trek to Walnut Avenue to cop some crack. She makes a quick stop at a neighborhood store, where she asks for the crack-smokers' special: "Hey pops, can I get a flower, some Chore Boy and a lighter?" She pays $3 and receives a crack pipe, a lighter and a piece of copper mesh to use as a pipe screen. Vendors skirt drug paraphernalia laws by packaging the glass tubes with small, artificial flowers and billing them as novelty items for loved ones. The Chore Boy copper mesh is a household cleaning product. Charlotte says she spends between $70 and $100 every day on drugs - usually buying six bags of heroin, which cost between $10 and $15 apiece, and four $5 "nickel bags" of crack. It's about 3:30 p.m. when she makes the day's first crack deal at Walnut Avenue and Chestnut Street. Then she heads for the Trenton Train Station, where a stall in the women's restroom provides the necessary privacy for crack smoking. She emerges 10 minutes later with wings on her feet and a glint in her eye. But the beast in her stomach is growling again, so she hikes down to Bridge Street to pick up another heroin blast before catching the after-work customers back on Genesee Street. When she reaches Centre Street, she runs into Blackie, who's also trying to cop some dope. "Shop's closed here," says the athletic-looking woman, emerging from an apartment building known as the "projects." "What's wrong with you?" Charlotte exclaims. "I ain't never seen you looking like this." "I know," Blackie replies. "My old man keeps telling me to get off the (stuff). It ain't that easy." The two women find another heroin "shop" down the way where someone's selling "Scorpion" for $10 a bag. Heroin, trick, crack, heroin, trick, crack. Stockton, Genesee, Walnut, Bridge, Genesee, Walnut, Stockton. Like hundreds of Trenton addicts, Charlotte spends all day, every day, going in circles like a trapped hamster running in a wheel and never getting anywhere. Geetha Arulmohan smiles as she looks out her window at a parking lot filled with state workers' cars. "I used to work with lepers in India. Now I work with untouchables here," she says. "When I tell people I work in Trenton detox, they say, 'Can't you get out of it?' " Arulmohan began working at the Trenton Treatment Center in 1998, two years after she finished school at the Princeton Theological Seminary and four years after moving to the United States. The treatment center boasted one of Trenton's few detox facilities until it was shut down in 1997 for building code violations. The decrepit former motel at 541 E. State St. now houses only a referral service and a partial-care intensive outpatient program. "They said they will give us the detox in a new location eventually," says Arulmohan, now the director of United Progress Inc., the nonprofit company that runs the treatment center. "The detox part never worked out. In place of a detox, they are giving me a transitional house." The new Escher Street facility, which will offer Trenton Treatment Center's intensive outpatient addiction services by day and transitional housing by night, is scheduled to open this month. "I come from a country where there was no money but lots of motivation for change," Arulmohan says. "Here there are lots of resources but no motivation." Area hospitals stopped offering detox services a few years ago. Jon Nelson, mental health director for Capital Health System at Fuld, says the state changed the reimbursement levels for detox services, and hospitals could no longer afford to offer the treatment to those unable to pay for it. "Detox is a very scary medical condition," Nelson says. "The government just doesn't recognize the whole package. They only give you a quarter for a dollar's worth of services." Addicts who go to emergency rooms seeking recovery help but are unable to pay for it are referred to agencies such as the Trenton Treatment Center, which compete for the elusive publicly funded slots. While addicts wait the days, weeks and months necessary to secure a slot, life on the streets continues. "A heroin addict cannot go without for one day," Arulmohan says. "I can't tell them 'don't use.' The withdrawal will be so bad." As a result, the junkies keep spinning the wheel, running from the beast and chasing the high. Charlotte is one of 15 children born to a couple in North Jersey. Her father worked as a minister. Her mother suffered from mental illness and was hospitalized for much of Charlotte's youth. Charlotte struggled to find her individuality among the brood. After graduating from high school, she found a way to stand out from her siblings while fitting in with her peers. She began drinking and partying on weekends and eventually tried cocaine at the age of 19. "I think I snorted three lines, then I went straight to smoking," she says of her crack habit. In her 20s, Charlotte married and gave birth to two children - all while drugging most of her nights away. "I wasn't a crack addict," she says. "I was a rock star." That's how the cocaine made her feel, until her husband drew the line. She quit doing drugs for nine months at his insistence but fell back one night, smoking crack with a friend. As she was driving home at dawn, she told her friend she couldn't go straight home because she was too wired. "My husband would have known, yo," she says. The friend handed her a bag of powder and said to snort it, it would even out her high. "It felt like I had smoked a whole ounce of pot at one time," she gushes. "The high was so good, I called him up the next day and asked him if he had any more." He did. After a three-day binge, she says she found out it was heroin and stopped doing it immediately. She experienced mild flu-like withdrawal symptoms. "I'm thinking, 'Is this it?,' " she says. " 'Well, this is nothing, yo. I can do it when I want to and kick it, no problem.' " She snorted heroin every day for the next year before realizing she had to do four bags a day "just to feel right." Heroin attaches itself to receptors in the brain, causing dopamine levels to skyrocket and triggering feelings of intense pleasure. But over time, users build up tolerance, and if addicts don't use enough or stop using the drug completely, withdrawal begins. Charlotte wakes up every morning with severe abdominal cramps and dripping with sweat. Then the pain crawls down her legs. "That's why they call it kicking," she explains. "Last time I tried to kick, I wanted to cut off my legs, it hurt so bad." Promising new drugs such as buprenorphine (Buprenex), which minimize the pain, are offered at detox centers. With the death of Charlotte's mother last September, her father, now 85, moved to the area and began ministering at a local church. He thinks his daughter is living straight, and this spring, for the first time in a long time, she really wants to be. Indigent fiends haunt the streets of Trenton and Mercer County, unable to find detox treatment, but the situation statewide is equally grim. The major conclusion of a study released in August last year put government on notice. "Persons who are medically indigent have significant problems accessing any type of substance abuse treatment in New Jersey, especially detoxification and residential care when they are incapacitated," concluded the New Jersey Substance Abuse Prevention & Treatment Advisory Task Force in a report to the state Department of Health and Senior Services. The governor's office released a statement with the report, recognizing that fewer than half of those who want treatment in New Jersey are able to find it. About 71,000 people are unable to get care because of limited treatment capacity, the statement said. Still, the office of acting Gov. Donald T. Di Francesco said the annual allotment of $48,000 given to each county - $1 million total - would remain the same. The McGreevey administration has not increased detox funding either, according to Dennis McGowan, spokesman for the state Department of Health and Senior Services. The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse concluded New Jersey spends $6.17 per capita on prevention, treatment and research, while the national average is $11.09. Mulraney, the chief of addiction services in Mercer County, paints a bleak picture of what that spending gap means at the local level. "We obviously know that we need more detox beds," Mulraney says. "When we talk about services for indigent care, there are so many agencies pulling on the same pot of money. What is available is available. We know we don't have what we need." Trenton city officials, who with city funding intended to include detox beds at the new Escher Street facility, dropped the idea after realizing the cost would be prohibitive. "It seemed like an unreasonable amount to expect," says April Aaronson, director of the city Department of Health and Human Services. "Medical detox is an incredibly intensive level of care in a hospital setting. We're going to concentrate on developing a number of intensive outpatient programs in the city." Aaronson considers drug abuse the premier issue facing the city of Trenton but said the city does not want to duplicate what the county is doing, funding more detox beds in other counties. "It's not a perfect world," she says. "We feed into the system where we can." After snorting a bag to subdue the morning beast, Charlotte sits in a rundown chair at the Trenton Treatment Center, smoking nervously and waiting for an intake counselor. At 3:15 p.m., 30 minutes after her arrival, Victor Lopez comes bounding down the stairs and introduces himself. He apologizes for the wait. He was talking on the phone to another hopeful addict who wanted detox. His button-down shirt and dress slacks seem out of place in the battered lobby, which is starkly furnished with two chairs and a rickety, unoccupied front desk. He leads Charlotte into a small office off the lobby and begins assessing her drug habits and her lifestyle. But first, a caveat: "I have to tell you, the chances of finding you a detox bed today are almost impossible," he says, "but I'll do what I can." With a sarcastic, "I-told-you-so" look, Charlotte tells Lopez she may not want to quit in a few weeks time. "I can't wait that long, yo." "You're preaching to the choir," he retorts. "The detox centers in Mercer County have closed down so I need to try and find you a bed elsewhere. There's only so many charity beds. Let's see what we can do." Then, the questions begin: Do you have insurance? No. What's your drug of choice? Heroin. How much? Three to five bags a day. How often? Every day. Who's the president of the United States? Bush. Have you had treatment before? I've kicked six times before. When did you last use? Three hours ago. "You're not appropriate for our program here because you need detox first," he concludes. "Let's go upstairs and make a phone call." Charlotte begins to cry, partly because of the life splayed open by his questions, and partly because she feels the earth-shattering fear of a life she has never known. If he finds her a detox bed for five days, then the quest starts for the additional drug treatment services Charlotte will need. After detox, she will need a two-week inpatient program and after that a 28-day residential stay and finally, six months of outpatient care - if she gets that far. The scenario presents an overwhelming number of chances for both her and the system to fail miserably. Most daunting at this moment, though, is the prospect of a showdown with the beast - an all-out fight to the death. After almost an hour of trying one number, then another and another, Lopez puts down the phone triumphantly. "You've got a bed!" he proclaims. "That never, ever happens. Maryville has an opening today, but you have to get there by 7." "I'm going to go for it, yo," Charlotte says, biting what's left of her thumbnail to the quick. But Williamstown is at least an hour drive. It's 5 p.m. and the treatment center driver left for his other job an hour ago. She says goodbye to Lopez, pledging to find a way to get to Maryville. Instead, she ends up running the streets, drugging hard, trying to numb the strange sensation of coming close but not close enough. At 6:30 the next morning she returns, high as a kite, to the small hotel room she calls home. She pulls a small bag from her pocket, loads up her flower and draws deeply on the crack stem. She probably will never know Maryville held that bed for two days. "My daddy's coming home from his mission tomorrow," she says to the man who pays rent on her room. "I miss him. He'll give me money. Then I can get some Buprenex in Newark and try and kick here at home." Unfortunately, just another pipe dream. - --- MAP posted-by: Terry Liittschwager