Pubdate: Fri, 21 Feb 2003
Source: Surrey Leader (CN BC)
Copyright: 2003 Surrey Leader
Contact:  http://www.surreyleader.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1236
Author:  Paula Carlson

IT'S THE LUCK OF THE DRUG

He had called me to meet him at a nearby mall, his voice sharp and pinched 
and breathless.

When I arrived, he climbed into the passenger seat, a day's worth of 
stubble on his face and a tremor in his hands that was alarmingly violent.

Addicts, when they need their fix, can be a disconcerting sight.

The story he had this time was that his prescription had run out and his 
doctor had phoned in a new one, but he didn't have the cash. Could I lend 
him 20 bucks?

Lend is a subjective term when it comes to the people in your life who 
drift in and out at intervals measured in months or years. I gave him $40 
and he headed into the strip mall at 10 o'clock on a Saturday morning.

I waited. And when he returned, his hunched posture had been replaced with 
a confident strut, the grimace had bloomed into a polished smile, and when 
his hands reached out to embrace me, they were rock-steady and strong.

My dad, an alcoholic, had paid a visit to the liquor store. He had rejoined 
the land of the living, and no one (save me) was the wiser.

Many addicts aren't as fortunate. They've "picked" the wrong substance to 
love; the methamphetamine that caused one teen I know to pick holes the 
size of quarters in his skin; the crack cocaine that prompts its prey, 
delusional and tweaking, to sift through gravel in search of ghost rocks; 
the heroin, that seduces with the promise of release yet delivers nothing 
but captivity.

Only drinkers, gamblers, and until recently, smokers, are able to partake 
of their poison in elegant style.

Boozers can shop leisurely at the liquor store. They can saddle up at the 
mahogany bar and exchange pleasantries with their fellow pub-goers, 
surrounded by sparkling bottles and cocooned in the warm thrum of conversation.

In the casino, the flashy slots and bow-tied dealers make blowing the 
paycheque a sophisticated game.

Certainly, as with all addiction, which is a progressive disease, the seedy 
side will eventually emerge. The 12-year-old scotch will give way to rice 
wine; the house will be mortgaged and family lost to blackjack. But until 
they hit bottom, "the good junkies" will be spared the bitter ostracism 
that is a part of other addicts' lives.

Due to the nature of crack and heroin -- their illegality, fluctuating 
purity, and effects on the brain -- users quickly descend to desperate 
levels. They sell their bodies. They rob your house.

Decriminalization? No, but de-stigmatizing would be a good start, and 
targeting recovering heroin addicts like this city is doing -- by hiking 
methadone dispensary licence fees and trying to outlaw take-home 
prescriptions -- does nothing to encourage the regional drug strategy Mayor 
Doug McCallum says he supports.

When I think of my dad, who tested my patience on many occasions but 
nonetheless still held my heart, the equation is simple. Hate the drug, not 
the drug addict.
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MAP posted-by: Larry Stevens