Pubdate: Sun, 15 Nov 2015 Source: Orange County Register, The (CA) Copyright: 2015 The Orange County Register Contact: http://www.ocregister.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/321 Author: David Whiting, Staff Columnist HEROES IN NATION'S WORST DRUG EPIDEMIC Denise Cullen's journey from mother, to burying her only child before his 28th birthday, to activist is one that too many parents have had to take during the worst drug epidemic in this nation's history. Most parents who lose a child collapse under the weight of trying to stem the tide of prescription opioids. But even after five years of battling what the Centers for Disease Control calls an ever-more deadly killer, Cullen and several other mothers and fathers in Orange County haven't given up - and now they are making dents in the epidemic. Next week, Cullen will fly to Washington, D.C., for a conference with the federal drug czar at the White House. Elaine Werner-Hudson, whose son, Josh, would be 36 had he survived, left for Italy last week to study what that country says is a successful method to reduce drug addiction. Nearly every day, Jodi Barber, whose son would be 25, counsels parents and their children how to fight becoming a statistic. Only a few days ago, she helped persuade a teenager to go into long-term rehab. It is a cliche that even if each activist helps save only one child, their efforts are worth it. But for each of these parents, that cliche is a daily truism. On average, according to my recent review of coroner records, someone dies every other day in Orange County from an accidental overdose of prescription opioids. Additionally, heroin addiction - linked to prescription drug addiction - is skyrocketing and finding its way into affluent homes. One woman last year who died from the highly addictive illegal drug was 64 years old. Another woman was 38. Coroner records show that on average, nearly six Orange County residents a month die with heroin in their bodies. THE LOBBYIST It is November five years ago. I sit with Cullen and her husband, Gary, a businessman. The view from their Cowan Heights home speaks to hard work and success. But the photos on display are sobering. Their son, Jeff, a snowboarder, BMX rider, body surfer, smiles, his 6-foot-3 lean body seemingly ready to take on whatever the world dishes out. But by his 27th birthday, Jeff was a shell. After a series of stints in rehab and minor run-ins with the law, Jeff's body was found next to an apartment building. He died from a mix of Xanax and morphine. Cullen, a USC graduate and clinical social worker, tells me she plans to launch a nonprofit called Broken No More. She promises to work to "end the shame of addiction, encourage medical research and increase accessibility to rehabilitation." Flash forward five years. Today, Cullen is executive director of Broken No More. She receives no salary, nor does her husband, who serves as vice president of development. Today, the organization reports 105 chapters in the U.S. and Canada. Cullen's accomplishments include helping lead a successful effort in California to allow pharmacists to distribute naloxone, a drug which can reverse overdoses. Currently, she is supporting needle exchange in Orange County, a program still in its embryonic stage that is expected to help guide addicts to rehab. Now 62, Cullen says her son would be 34 had he lived. She acknowledges that loss and hope fuels her just as it fuels other parents. But grief can work in conflicting ways. "The process of losing a child drives many of us to want to do something," she explains. "On the other hand, there's a lot of blame and shame and anger." Broken No More tackles exactly those kinds of feelings, battles the stigma of overdose, and injects reality into the war. Cullen's website states: "In the days of 'just say no' and Red Ribbon Weeks, we are denying the reality of what it is to be a teenager." THE HEALER The day before she leaves for Italy, Werner-Hudson shares that her son, Josh, died nine years ago of an opioid prescription overdose and would be 36 today. "Every single day he is the first thing I think of and the last thing I think of before I go to bed," Werner-Hudson confides. "The feelings change, it becomes different. But you don't miss them any less. The longing just gets harder and harder." It may seem like a startling admission. But Werner-Hudson is used to being boldly honest. Four years ago with Margie Fleitman, she founded S.O.L.A.C.E - Surviving Our Loss with Awareness, Compassion and Empathy - a weekly support group for addicts as well as friends and families of addicts. Today, S.O.L.A.C.E offers weekly meetings at the Norman Murray Center in Mission Viejo, is sponsored by Orange County Drug and Alcohol Advisory Board and partners with drug court, which has some addicts attend meetings. "They never saw what it did to their family," Werner-Hudson says, "and they cry." For the past two years, Werner-Hudson has worked as a counselor at College Hospital in Costa Mesa. Echoing the Centers of Disease Control, she reports the numbers of addicts is increasing, especially middle-age women. "There's a lot of heroin," she reports. "A great deal of them started out on prescriptions and will do heroin and oxycodone. It's heartbreaking." Of her mission in Italy, Werner-Hudson explains, "We have to try something different." THE FILMMAKER Five years ago, Barber's 19-year-old son, Jarrod, died from a mix of Opana, an opioid, and anti-anxiety medication. She tells me had her boy lived, he would be 25. "His brother just celebrated his 21st birthday without his best friend and brother," Barber says, her voice growing soft. "For the rest of their lives, this is what (siblings) deal with. "As a mom, there's no words to describe it because our kids are supposed to go before us." Still, Barber fought back by co-producing a documentary on local drug addiction called "Overtaken." During the summer, she finished a second film, "Overtaken 2, Where Are They Now." She also blogs and tweets about the prescription drug epidemic, gives talks and offers advice to addicts as well as their relatives. Two weeks ago, she appeared on "The Dr. Oz Show" to discuss the guilty verdict against Dr. Lisa Tsang, who was blamed for the deaths of several Orange County men. But the judgment, believed to be the first in the nation against a doctor for recklessly prescribing drugs, doesn't make it any easier to watch the rising tide of opioid deaths. "I get calls all the time. It's gotten worse," Barber reports. "It's horrific for me. I feel like it's a losing battle." In some respects, she's right. Four years ago, 155 Orange County residents died of accidental prescription drug overdoses. Last year, according to my recent review of coroner reports, that figure soared to 175. Yet every once in a while, even a simple phone call makes the struggle worthwhile. Barber offers, "I got two messages from kids yesterday who said I saved their lives." It's dents made by hometown heroes in the opioid epidemic battle that will win the war someday. - --- MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom