Camping, Riding, Old Friends, New Friends, and Massholes

Last weekend the pups, Harlan, and I headed down to Myles Standish State Forest in Massachusetts for a weekend of fun with my SAR friend Tammy and her friend Ardys.

Home sweet home for the weekend!

We went for a lovely 3 mile ride Friday evening with the dogs tagging along. The trails were beautiful and gloriously empty. I was glad I had the dogs with me in the tent that night because brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...it was around 45*.

Saturday quickly warmed up though, and the entire park was aflutter with activity. We planned our ride and I tied the dogs with cables to a tree in the shade and told them to stay.

Finch studying the trail map.

We had to ride past a triathlon to get to the trails. The trails were pretty nice but it was really really hot and a lot of the trails were unshaded. We did find a nice pond to splash around in though! And Harlan was a superstar.

At about mile 8 or 9, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number so ignored it. But it niggled at me so I googled the number and it was Myles Standish State Forest. Shit. I called them back.

"Hi, do you have a pitbull?"

"....yes." Goddammit. I knew the park rules said you can't leave your dogs alone. I should've put them in the horse trailer.

"Your dog escaped and is with a ranger, we'll meet you at your campsite." Did Hobbes escape? That would be weird, but if Finch escaped and was still loose, maybe Hobbes chewed through his collar and bolted too...oh god, Finch could be anywhere!

"Okay, be right there."

"Be right there" turned into another hour as we were still 2-3 miles out. We passed a ranger on the way who said "You going to pick up that little blue eyed dog? She sure is cute." Okay phew, it was just Finch that escaped, and she charmed the rangers so hopefully they won't be too mean to me.

I rode up to my campsite and found a forest ranger sitting on the ground with Finch in his lap and Hobbes on his back getting pettin's. I shamefacedly dismounted and apologized to the ranger.

"Oh it's okay! She chewed right through her harness. But she's been with me since 11:30 [it was 2:30 at this time]...some folks at the triathlon found her and put a harness and leash on her. I happened to walk by and they turned her over to me. We walked through the triathlon for a while to see if anyone recognized her; people kept saying 'I didn't know the forest rangers had a K9 unit!'

'Then I put her in my truck and we drove around all the campsites...she didn't seem to react at anything, so I put her up in my lap and we drove through again, and she went crazy at your campsite. I called headquarters to verify that site C36 had two dogs since I could only see one dog. When they verified, I approached Hobbes...he was wrapped around a tree several times and couldn't reach the water, but he was growling at me and wouldn't come near, so I sat down and played with Finch until Hobbes warmed up to me."

Picture Finch's face photoshopped in.

At this point I'm feeling like a terrible pet owner and person...someone could've picked up Finch and decided they liked her so much that they just took her. Or she could've been hit by a car. And poor Hobbes couldn't reach the water. And I wasted all that time of the ranger's.

But that ranger was so damn nice. He reassured me it was no problem and just gave me a gentle reminder not to leave the dogs alone.

So basically Finch had a Baby's Day Out-style adventure. She got lots of attention and got to ride around in a ranger's truck.

Tammy's mom and aunt came to have dinner with us and then my lovely college roommate Annie came with her boyfriend Greg and mutt Murray to camp out overnight.

After a leisurely breakfast and catching up, we all headed our separate ways. Annie, Greg, and Murray were going hiking, Tammy and Ardys were going home, and I was headed to my friend's barn in Townsend, MA.

Except none of us got very far. I was the first to leave and headed out of the campground only to be foiled by cones across the road. It was apparently day 2 of the triathlon thingy...I got out of the truck and asked the volunteers if the road was closed.

"Yup."

"Uhhh...till when?"

"Probably after 2 o clock."

"This is the only way out..."

"Sorry. You can try turning around and going the wrong way down the one-way road."

"...okay..."

I backed up my truck and trailer about half a mile to reach an area I could do a 3-point turn in and went the other way. I passed by the campsite just as Tammy and Ardys were leaving so I told them what was going on. They followed me as we went the wrong way down the road, until we were stopped by another set of cones.

This time there was an angry park employee who proceeded to yell at me for going the wrong way. I (mostly) calmly explained that I had gone the other way and it was blocked off, and they had told me to come this way.

"Well you shouldn't have listened to them! You should NOT have come down the wrong way!"

"Okay, but they told me to..."

"Well you shouldn't have listened! You should've called the park! You will have to back up and turn around again! There is NO WAY you are coming through here!"

He sped off in his truck to presumably yell at the volunteers to let me through and I turned the rig around yet again. Tammy however has a huge 3-horse trailer that wasn't going to be turned around in that small space. She called headquarters who sent an escort for her.

I was already turned around so I followed the d-bag park employee and passed Annie and Greg on the way, who turned around and followed me. The volunteers moved the cones and waved us on...into two-way bike traffic. There were hundreds of bikers, no exaggeration.

It took me an hour to get out of the park. The bike race was occurring on the main road for multiple miles. Sometimes I could go around them, sometimes I had to just go slow behind them to avoid wiping anybody out with my trailer. This did not make the bikers very happy; I got lots of insults hurled at me. I just wanted to leeeeeeave! They hurt my widdle feewings. :(

But I finally got out of the park (after a final "You suck!!!" thrown at me by a passing biker) and headed to my friend Amanda's barn. I connected with Amanda online when she posted her blog link in a Facebook group we were both part of, I stalked it, and realized that Amanda had been the one who had looked at Harlan right before I did. Small world. We became very good friends, and this was our first time meeting "in real life." It was more like a reunion than a meeting though!

I unloaded Harlan (who gave me a look like "Really? It's a million degrees out and I want to go home.") and we went for a short and delightful trail ride. I loaded Harlan back up, and home we went.

Very long story short: I had a nice time with new friends, I got to catch up with Annie and meet her boyfriend, and I got to meet Amanda finally! And a park employee made me mad and some Masshole bikers hurt my feelings. But we're focusing on the positive!

Bonus pics: This is what Harlan did when I went to get him from the pasture Friday to head to Massachusetts.

Can't see him? That's because he ran off and hid behind the trees.

"You can't seeee meeeeee!"

Insider's Look: MMSAR - Mounted Training

This past weekend I loaded Harlan onto the trailer and headed up to Corinth for an overnight training with 6 other Maine Mounted Search and Rescue unit members.  MMSAR president Sharon kindly hosted us and our four legged partners, letting us set up little pens for the horses and opening her home to the humans.

We had a brief teleconference with the southern members who had their own training last month, and then we had a great GPS training with Bryan, the education director for the Maine Association for Search and Rescue.

After some on-foot GPS practice, we saddled up and split into two teams for mock searches. Sharon's husband John and his friend Alan were amiable victims and hiked off into the woods for us to find. I was with Nancy and her 28 year old appaloosa mare Lacey, and Dolly and her 21 year old paint mare Scarlett while Melissa and her 17 year old Tennessee walker mare Peekaboo acted as command post/observer. Harlan was the youngster of the group at "only" 12 years old, and a popular dude with all the ladies!

Tammy/Sugar, me/Harlan, Nancy/Lacey, Dolly/Scarlett, Shirley/Spice, Sharon/Zephyr, Melissa/Peekaboo

Our first scenario was a 42 YOM (year old male) who was LSA (last seen at) 0900 when he headed out to the woods on foot to scout deer stand locations. He was wearing camo pants, a grey sweatshirt, and possibly a hat; 6'4 and 180 lbs. PLS (point last seen) was on a particular trail. We were given a specific area to search, located it on our maps and GPS, and headed out.

Shirley on the other team administers first aid to John.

Dolly took the left as her search area, Nancy took the right, and I had the center and up in the trees. Pretty soon Nancy spotted the vic (victim) sprawled over a downed tree near a tree stand. We dismounted, tied the good ponies to trees, grabbed a first aid kit, and approached the vic. After a little bit of confusion, Dolly took the lead in medical with Nancy assisting and I communicated with command post (Melissa) by radio. Vic was unconscious with no obvious bleeding but suspected head/neck/spinal injury so Dolly established an airway and held his head still while we waited for the wardens/EMS to take over.


John was a very realistic victim with his leg bent at a weird angle until he started giggling as we approached.

The second scenario was a 46 YOM, 5'8 155 lbs, LSA 0900 when he went to the stream for fishing.  This time I found the vic, laying face down at the edge of the stream. He had significant bleeding on his head and leg (signified by red duct tape wrapped around said body parts) and was conscious but delirious. No spinal injury was suspected so we removed the log trapping his leg and repositioned his head so it was no longer laying downhill.

The mock searches were really interesting. Nancy is a very experienced searcher and Dolly has combat medical experience so it was very educational to ride along with them.  Harlan was very well-behaved except for a minor meltdown when Melissa and Peekaboo temporarily left the group (they're good buddies apparently).

After a debriefing and late dinner, I was very happy to conk out on a futon.

Day 2 started with breakfast and watching a video on mounted self-defense. Through the video we learned of a variety of tricks and maneuvers to use if someone was attempting to unseat us.

I was nervous from the get-go for hands-on training. I still haven't recovered mentally (or physically for that matter) from falling off in July. It didn't help that all the horses were antsy and fidgeting because of the cold weather and brisk wind.  Harlan was particularly sensitive that day; any leg pressure and he humped up and shot forward. One of the tricks from the video is to "wake up your horse" and get them ready for an attack -- no need to do that with Harlan Pepper!

John was once again a good-natured participant, this time as an assailant. First we practiced on the ground, using the horse as a barrier between us and John.

Then it was onto mounted self-defense training. The first exercise was pretty easy; loudly and assertively telling John to stop, back up, this horse bites!

The second exercise is called "the spin." If the assailant tries to grab on to you or the saddle, you spin the horse away so that the horse's hip pushes the assailant away. We first did it with John at a distance, then with him close up.  Harlan was very on-edge so John first gave him a cookie to bribe him, and then you can see how the maneuver works.

After Harlan doing that so well, I called it quits for most of the other exercises and just watched everyone else while Harlan practiced standing patiently. For those comfortable with it, John actually grabbed onto the rider or saddle and applied weight for the horses to try to spin off.  

The other major maneuver is called "going on a date." You trap the assailant's hand against the saddle or horse and ask the horse to move forward, picking up speed and then flinging the assailant's hand away. If the assailant hasn't fallen over already, this will make him lose his balance for sure.  For John's safety, it was practiced just at a walk.

I did participate in one more exercise, where the assailant takes your foot out of the stirrup and tries to pull you off the horse. You sink your butt into the saddle which then adds in the horse's weight for the assailant to pull. Harlan did really well for that too.

We then paired off and headed off onto a trail loop where John and his martial arts master Mike stationed themselves to "attack" us on the trail.  Riders could do whatever maneuver they wanted; Harlan was throwing a tantrum because he was separated from Peekaboo so I just did the verbal "STOP! BACK UP! HE BITES!" and the spin at a distance.

And then the training was over. We untacked, packed stuff away, ate lunch, and dispersed to our various homes. I left my trailer at Sharon and John's; John is a mechanic and is giving my trailer a look over as maintenance.  

Which meant Harlan went home with his girlfriend Peekaboo where he will stay until this coming weekend when I pick up the trailer. Like any kid at sleepaway camp, he has to have an adjustment period. Peekaboo decided that she needed to protect "her" herd (of Freya, a quarter horse mare, and Spud, a sassy pony) from him despite Harlan being in a separate pasture, which left Harlan feeling rejected and lost.  He broke through a gate when the other three pretended they were wild mustangs and were running around like crazy horses.

Here is his first Letter from Camp:

Dear Mom,

I was a good boy and stayed put last night, that fence is bitey! And it's COLD here!! I was shivering this morning so Aunt Melissa gave me a little grain. I almost stepped on her foot while she was bringing it out, she called me a big galloot but I just looked at her with my baby blues and she smiled and gave me a pat and put my grain down.

I did get excited when the girls ran up the hill but I settled down when I remembered that I had Spud for company, even though he's still giving me the stink eye some.  I have lots of grass to pick at in the barn yard so I'll try to be a good boy today.

Love,
Harlan

I am tired but it was a really educational weekend and I'm proud of how well Harlan did even though I was incredibly nervous and wound up on the second day.  As an inexperienced unit member, it was so helpful to have practice as well as the opportunity to observe more experienced searchers in a low pressure situation.

Last Days of Summer

Last week I started classes in the vet tech program! Sort of. The first is physics (which is a pre-requisite for vet school if I choose that path) and it was excruciatingly boring.  The second is mammalian anatomy and physiology; I was very apprehensive about it.

Human anatomy in my first round of college was THE WORST class ever. It was entirely separate from human physiology, a class that I actually enjoyed. Anatomy was a whole different animal; the professor was proud of the fact that he had a high fail rate. It was a cadaver lab class which didn't bother me, I found it fascinating. But I failed the first lab quiz because I didn't put whether a marked structure was found on the left or right side of the body.

But mammalian anatomy and physiology looks like it will be much much more interesting. I mean, I get to doodle animals in my notebook!

I have another online class about addiction that I haven't started yet, but hopefully it will be interesting. 

My ribs are on the mend -- I really only notice that it hurts when I bend weirdly or breathe really deeply. So I went on a ride yesterday with a couple friends that was actually an 8 mile scavenger hunt. There is a local trail riding club that puts it on annually; they give you clues and send you off on a trail. There were 10 stations where we had to look for whatever the clue meant.

By about the 8th station my ribs were protesting the getting off and getting back on. But today they are fine, so they are healing!

It was a LOVELY day. Back at home, Harlan immediately rolled in the pasture.

Zin decided that looked pretty nice.

Tanner was just enjoying the sunshine.

Harlan made some puuuurdy faces.

Here's hoping we have many more lovely days this fall!

Bigger and Better Things

You guys remember Cooper? Recap here, here, and here. Cooper was Blonde Bomber Acres' black lab version of Tanner; an easygoing, slowpokey, nothing-fazes-him kinda guy. He was the ultimate western trail horse but it took him a little bit to find his person.

Now known as Cole, he is tearing up the show scene with his owner Deno! He is no one trick pony, folks. He and Deno are competing in halter, dressage, equitation, western pleasure, and have even been in parades.

I was really hoping to make it to their last show of the season on Saturday but unfortunately wasn't able to.  Seeing the pictures is super heartwarming though, I am SO GLAD that he ended up with Deno. It warms the cochles of my heart.

The following pictures are from Saturday's show, and are courtesy of the Sebasticook Riding Club.

Congrats, Deno and Cole!! I am so happy for both of you.

Checking In

Life has been relatively boring lately, but is about to get pretty interesting.

I broke a rib during my flying from the saddle event so I've been laying low. I managed to go two whole weeks without riding before I just had to play hooky from work and jump on Harlan.

I mean, how could I not?

I did pay for that rib-wise though, as well as for hauling hay bales and bags of grain. Two steps forward one step back in the healing process. I have at least progressed to the point of only needing 3 ibuprofens at night, instead of eating them like candy throughout the day.

However, some good things are happening as well! Blonde Bomber Acres got a new member recently, a boarder horse named Zin. Zin is an Arab cross gelding and almost pony-sized; he reminds me a lot of my first horse, a Morab named Marmar.

He is owned by the other Kelsey (KR) so hopefully we will have some great riding adventures this fall.

Madazin, also known as Zin.

Me and my first horse Marmar, in 1999.

And beginning Sept 2, I am cutting back my work hours to half time and am starting classes in the vet tech program! Woo!

Oh, and to show that I have no life, I have created this Tumblr based on email spam.

Repost: Blue

This is a combination post of reposting. First, my Facebook status last night:

My heart is both heavy and uplifted tonight.

Whenever I hear of someone taking his or her own life, stranger or not-stranger, it hurts so hard because I have been there. I know that awful, aching feeling that you're alone. I know it down deep. And I just want to take their hand and tell them, "You're not alone. You don't have to fight this alone."

While I wish it didn't take a death for it to happen (similar to Philip Seymour Hoffman and the conversation around heroin overdose), it started a wonderful, deep, funny, sad conversation with a friend, and my Facebook feed is full of people standing up and saying "I've been there. You're not alone. I am here for you."

I imagine Robin Williams had a horrifyingly heavy burden...everyone expected him to be the funny guy so maybe he didn't feel like he could talk about what was really going on. I have been there: masking deep, dark emptiness with jokes and lightheartedness, fearing you'll scare people away or be a burden if you are real for even just a moment.

So I want to join the others in saying "I've been there. You're not alone. I am here for you." and offer an ear. If you need me to tell my bumblebee and ghost joke to make you laugh, I will. But if you just want to talk about sadness, or sit in silence with your sadness, I will listen and sit with you. Sometimes you just need someone to stare at the demons with you, rather than try to shoo them away with jokes or distractions.

You don't have to fight this alone.

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And a blog post I wrote last year called "Blue":

Blue

Today I read a post called "21 Tips to Keep Your Shit Together When You're Depressed" and it really resonated with me.

I've been on antidepressants for almost 6 years, and was depressed for a few years before that. Lately it's been compounded by recurrent health problems as well as big life changes. If I have a choice, I sleep most of the days away on the weekend, and spend the awake hours on the couch watching TV. Some mornings I'm late to work because I can't get myself out of bed. Part of this is because of my health issues...being constantly tired makes me tired of being tired and triggers depression, which makes me more tired, and around and around it goes.

There is so much stigma around depression. I try to be open about it, but I still find myself feeling vulnerable and paranoid about what others think of me. She's just a wimp. She just wants attention/sympathy. Everyone says they're depressed these days...something something Prozac Nation.

What the link above addresses is another one of those pervasive thoughts: She's just not trying hard enough. I know people who have successfully gone off of medications through diet and exercise changes, therapy, or sheer force of will. I am sincerely happy for them, but it really sucks to be the one "left behind," the one who can't pull herself up by the bootstraps.

There is certainly something to be said for thinking happy thoughts when you're down in the dumps. Expecting that to fix everything, however, is not helpful. Because when you try super hard to think those happy thoughts and are still sad, or you can't even muster any happy thoughts, you feel even worse about yourself. And you start looking at those happy people and resenting them and their happiness.

This Hyperbole and A Half post explains that thought process so wonderfully. Sometimes you just have to muddle through and keep your shit together until it passes.

There really isn't a point to this whole post, except to be open about what I'm struggling with. I'm still working on getting my health issues figured out and I try to appreciate what I have.

It helps to have all the animals...some days I'm resentful that I have to get up and feed everyone, and I start to beat myself up for thinking I could do this whole farm thing on my own. But I feel better having gotten up, even if I go right back to bed afterwards. Having the animals rely solely on me forces me to put one foot in front of the other. And of course there are the physical and emotional health benefits to having animals too. That little voice that suggests I made a huge mistake gets silenced when I look out the window and watch the ponies grazing, or see the look of sheer joy on Finch's face when she races as fast as she can around the pond. One foot in front of the other.

So to anyone else struggling out there - I'm sending good thoughts your way.

My Day Job

I had a really vivid dream last night that someone in my immediate family (not naming names because it obviously wasn't true) was incredibly upset and disgusted by the work I do, so much so that s/he couldn't stand to be in my presence. Until our extended family was affected by the kind of work I do, and then s/he was suddenly all "The work you do is great!"

In my dream I took to this blog to righteously talk about it. And now I really am...totally meta, man!

I am a health educator for a hospital system in Maine. For the first couple years in this position I did pretty mild stuff, educating providers and patients about medication safety and diabetes prevention.

Then I was pulled into a different program. And while I'm still planning on and working towards an eventual career change, I've found something to be passionate about.

Part of the reason I'm passionate about it is because I'm contrary, I like to be controversial, and I like to root for the underdog. But I really do believe in the work I do.

I usually avoid telling people just what EXACTLY I do, but here goes. I work with our harm reduction program, helping drug users.

Harm reduction is "a set of practical strategies and ideas aimed at reducing negative consequences associated with drug use." Some central tenets:

Harm reduction

• Accepts, for better and or worse, that licit and illicit drug use is part of our world and chooses to work to minimize its harmful effects rather than simply ignore or condemn them.
• Understands drug use as a complex, multi-faceted phenomenon that encompasses a continuum of behaviors from severe abuse to total abstinence, and acknowledges that some ways of using drugs are clearly safer than others.
• Establishes quality of individual and community life and well-being–not necessarily cessation of all drug use–as the criteria for successful interventions and policies.
• Calls for the non-judgmental, non-coercive provision of services and resources to people who use drugs and the communities in which they live in order to assist them in reducing attendant harm.
• Ensures that drug users and those with a history of drug use routinely have a real voice in the creation of programs and policies designed to serve them.
• Affirms drugs users themselves as the primary agents of reducing the harms of their drug use, and seeks to empower users to share information and support each other in strategies which meet their actual conditions of use.
• Recognizes that the realities of poverty, class, racism, social isolation, past trauma, sex-based discrimination and other social inequalities affect both people’s vulnerability to and capacity for effectively dealing with drug-related harm.
• Does not attempt to minimize or ignore the real and tragic harm and danger associated with licit and illicit drug use.

I like to compare it to sex ed / providing condoms for high school students (which is unfortunately also still controversial). Abstinence-plus education really is harm reduction - it emphasizes that not having sex is safest, but recognizes that no matter what we do or say, some of those dang kids are gonna be hooking up. So we try to make it safer for them by providing safe sex education and condoms.

Unfortunately no matter what we do, some people will use drugs. Harm reduction recognizes this, and tries to make it safer for those folks.

Probably the most controversial way we do this is through a syringe exchange program. For every dirty needle someone brings us, we'll give them a clean one. We'll also give them clean "works" supplies, like alcohol wipes, cotton, sterile water, tourniquets, and antibiotic cream.

Some of you may be spluttering in outrage right about now. "Aren't you just enabling them?!?!" "Oh great, MORE needles on the street, just what we need!"

Just hear me out.

Syringe exchange programs are proven to help reduce disease transmission. Instead of using someone else's dirty needle that could be infected with HIV or hepatitis C, folks can come get enough clean ones to use a new one every time. That can also help prevent bacterial infections like abscesses, "cotton fever," cellulitis, and endocarditis.

To talk in cold financial terms: Clean needles = less morbidity = less visits to the emergency room = reduced cost to you the healthcare consumer.

It also means less needles on the street, in the park, in the gutter, in the public restroom. We safely dispose of all needles...last year we took in over 50,000.

Another benefit to the syringe exchange is that it gives us access to a population that is hard to reach. Although our consumers belong to just about every class and occupation, quite a few are un- or under-insured and un- or under-employed. They might not go to the doctor because they can't afford it, and/or they're afraid of (unfortunately very real) stigma-based negative reactions and treatment from healthcare staff.

So we are able to help connect them with primary care providers and medical financial assistance. We can do HIV and hepatitis C testing for free. We can educate about preventing disease transmission. We can give them the most up-to-date information on treatment and counseling resources when they're ready. We can help them find housing, employment, and legal assistance to start getting them out of the cycle of drug abuse, poverty, mental illness, etc.

I'm sure you all know about the opiate addiction issue in the US. We lose 100 people EVERY DAY to drug overdose.

Some may say (and we've heard it) essentially "Good riddance." or "It's their own fault." But I implore you to at the very least think about their family and friends.

Chances are that you know someone who struggles with addiction or is in recovery. More and more veterans are facing addiction after being treated for chronic pain. Prescription painkiller use is on the rise among high school athletes. Heroin users are now whiter, older, and more suburban than ever before. Hundreds of thousands of senior citizens are misusing painkillers.

There is a great movement picking up speed that is aimed at increasing access to naloxone. Also known as Narcan, naloxone reverses opiate overdoses. It kicks the opiates off of the brain's receptors, sending the person into immediate withdrawal. It can be administer intranasally, intramuscularly, and intravenously. It quite literally brings back the dead. People who have overdosed, were not breathing and didn't have a heartbeat, were saved by naloxone.

Naloxone has been around since the 1970s used by paramedics and hospitals, it has no side effects (other than the effects that come with withdrawal), and doesn't interact with other medications. It only works on opiates; if it's administered during a non-opiate overdose, it doesn't do anything, good or bad. There's absolutely no chance of abuse because it doesn't produce a high or really any effect.

Put like that, doesn't it seem stupid that naloxone isn't readily available to anyone and everyone?

And yet it remains controversial.

Our lovely Maine governor tried unsuccessfully to block a law that would give more folks access to it by allowing naloxone to be prescribed to family members of people at risk, and to allow law enforcement officers and firefighters to carry and administer it. His reasoning was that it enables drug users and would encourage them to push themselves to the "edge" since they would have a "safety net".

My response is this:
a) Overdoses don't just occur among those who are abusing drugs. Children can get into medications, different medications can dangerously interact, and other medical conditions can put people at higher risk of overdose. In my hospital system, the largest number (by a big margin) of medication poisonings / overdoses are among folks 65 and older.

b) Let's say it is that hoodlum on the street, stealing drugs and injecting them. S/he paid quite a lot of money for the drugs...if it was oxycodone, it's $5 - $10 a milligram.  By having naloxone used on him/her, that just wiped out a very expensive high AND put him/her into withdrawal which is something drug users tend to actively try to avoid. It is not in his/her best interest to get to the point of needing naloxone.

I was fortunate enough to be part of the team implementing a naloxone program in Maine. During a period of four months (March to June of this year), we gave Emergency Opiate Overdose Kits that included intranasal naloxone to 530 patients of the system's pain clinic. We educated most of them on recognizing and responding to overdose as well as how to use the kit.

We have already heard of nine overdose reversals with the kit since the program started in March. That's nine lives saved, nine families and friend circles that didn't have to grieve for a lost loved one.

So there you have it. I really am proud of the work I do.

If you have any questions or thoughts, please don't hesitate to express them! The job is not without its moral quandries and I'm often fighting my own prejudices so I can understand a lot of different viewpoints on the matter.