[Congressional Record Volume 163, Number 17 (Wednesday, February 1, 2017)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E114-E116]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




     RECOGNIZING FAMILIES IMPACTED BY THE NATIONAL OPIOID EPIDEMIC

                                 ______
                                 

                           HON. ANN M. KUSTER

                            of new hampshire

                    in the house of representatives

                      Wednesday, February 1, 2017

  Ms. KUSTER of New Hampshire. Mr. Speaker, I rise today to include in 
the Record the personal stories of families from across the country 
that have been impacted by the opioid and heroin epidemic. In the U.S. 
we lose 129 lives per day to opioid and heroin overdose. In my home 
state of New Hampshire I have learned so many heartbreaking stories of 
great people and families who have suffered from the effects of 
substance use disorder.
  Earlier this year, my colleagues and I were joined by many of these 
courageous families who came to Washington to share their stories with 
Members of Congress and push for action that will prevent overdoses and 
save lives. Since then, we passed both the Comprehensive Addiction and 
Recovery Act and the 21st Century Cures Act to provide much needed 
funding and critical policy changes to fight this epidemic.
  The advocacy of these families truly is so important to leading 
change in Washington and I am proud to preserve their stories.

        Carlton Fredrick Messinger II--Holderness, New Hampshire

       On Sunday, September 28, 2014, Carlton's (Carl) family 
     found out that he had been using heroin on and off for about 
     a year. They were as shocked and bewildered as any parents 
     could possibly be. They asked themselves: ``How does a young 
     adult who is a college graduate and taking advanced classes 
     in chemistry and biology, getting A's & B's in the classes so 
     he can apply to dental school use heroin?'' His mother 
     immediately thought that's not my child, there has to be a 
     mistake. How did we miss this? How does a functioning member 
     of society who six months ago started a thriving eBay 
     business selling vintage transformer toys use heroin? There 
     were many questions swirling around in her head after being 
     told about Carl's heroin use. She felt, and still does feel, 
     at times, that she is in a movie and this has not really 
     happened to her family. She feels that Carl is out of town 
     and will be coming back home someday. But then reality hits 
     and she realizes Carl is never coming home.
       Within minutes of being told about Carl using heroin, his 
     family confronted him. After a lengthy, calm, and rational 
     discussion, he confessed to using and that he was weaning 
     himself off of it with Suboxone. Carl told his parents he 
     wanted their help. The result of that meeting was an 
     agreement: Carl would immediately enter a detox program, then 
     enter a treatment facility.
       After six phone calls and much frustration, his mother 
     finally found a detox center that would take Carl. The reason 
     for her frustration was not that there wasn't a bed available 
     or that they didn't take their insurance;

[[Page E115]]

     the real frustration was his mother was told over and over 
     again that if they didn't take our insurance, they could not 
     accept him as a cash-only client. These specific detox 
     centers had an agreement with insurance companies that they 
     would accept approved insurance clients only.
       Carl's mother finally found The Farnum Center in 
     Manchester, NH, where Carl could enter as cash paying 
     inpatient client if their insurance denied the request for 
     coverage. As expected, their insurance denied the request to 
     cover detox treatment for drug addiction. His mother was told 
     that if Carl had an alcohol addiction it would be covered. 
     She was also told that the insurance companies did not think 
     you could die from drug detox.
       Carl entered The Farnum Center detox program on Wednesday 
     morning, October 1, 2014. At the end of the six-day inpatient 
     program, everyone in the facility was convinced that Carl was 
     going to make it. They made his family feel wonderful about 
     their son; Carl had stopped using heroin on his own two 
     months prior and was now detoxing off of suboxone. They also 
     mentioned how Carl had helped other patients realize they 
     could be treated for heroin addiction and have a better life. 
     Before departing, the discharging doctor mentioned that if 
     Carl was not ready to go right into rehab, he may be able to 
     stay clean on his own since he had already stopped using 
     heroin on his own and had previously used suboxone.
       In another lengthy, calm, and rational discussion Carl made 
     a case for not going to a treatment facility. Based on Carl's 
     request, and the information his family received from the 
     detox doctors, they ultimately agreed. After he successfully 
     completed the detox program Carl moved home, and his parents 
     felt they could monitor his progress adequately. They all 
     agreed that he would have to stay clean and sober during this 
     two-week trial period. At the end of the two weeks, Carl 
     would be drug tested. If he tested positive he would enter 
     treatment immediately. If at any time after the two week 
     period Carl tested positive for drugs he would immediately go 
     to treatment, no discussion. At the end of the two weeks, 
     Carl took the drug test and passed with flying colors. His 
     family congratulated him, and hugged him. They truly felt 
     they had their son back and on the road to recovery.
       On Tuesday, October 21, 2014, Carl came down with a bad 
     upper respiratory infection and was taken to the doctor the 
     next day. Carl's parents found out later that he never saw 
     his regular doctor for this visit. He saw a doctor who was 
     not familiar with Carl's medical history, and had no idea 
     that he had just come out of detox for heroin addiction. They 
     also discovered later that Carl's primary care doctor never 
     wrote in his chart about his heroin addiction, and having 
     just completed detox. Even though his primary care doctor was 
     part of the process of getting Carl help.
       Carl's parents found out after his death that the doctor 
     never asked him if he had any alcohol or drug abuse issues 
     before prescribing a codeine cough syrup for the infection. 
     They learned that, five years before, the medical center had 
     removed a template that would cue doctors to ask patients 
     about substance use disorders prior to prescribing a 
     narcotic. Carl's mother had a conversation with the CFO of 
     this medical center, only to be told that, ``Yeah, we don't 
     do such a good job with this issue. Our clinicians need to be 
     mindful of these issues.''
       When Carl's mother picked up the prescription for Carl, she 
     was not aware that Cheratussin AC Syrup is a codeine cough 
     syrup. There were no labels on the bottle stating that this 
     cough medicine does in fact have codeine, and it can 
     stimulate drug-seeking behavior. However, buried on the 
     second page of the patient prescription information sheet it 
     lists the following: ``Though very--unlikely abnormal, drug-
     seeking behavior is possible with this medication.''
       The codeine in the cough syrup triggered the need for Carl 
     to use again. His mother found him dead in his bathroom, with 
     the syringe still in his hand. The memory of finding him 
     cold, dead and blue will be something she lives with every 
     day. ``This is an experience no parent should have to go 
     through,'' writes Carl's mother.
       ``Carl died from fentanyl intoxication. There was no heroin 
     in Carl's system, only fentanyl and codeine from the cough 
     medicine. As my husband has said: this was the perfect storm. 
     Unfortunately it took our son's life. Carl never had a chance 
     to embrace sobriety. I feel some of the people we put our 
     trust in failed Carl.''
       ``Carl was an educated, smart, and vital young man who came 
     from a family who loved him very much. He had his whole life 
     ahead of him and is sorely missed by his parents, brother, 
     family, friends and everyone that knew him. We know Carl is 
     in a better place. Carl will always be in our hearts.''

                      Tyler Reed--Poteau, Oklahoma

       Tyler came into this world on January 27, 1992. Tyler was a 
     natural fighter, independent and won the hearts of everyone 
     he met. He excelled in all sports but was most passionate 
     about baseball until ninth grade when he suddenly lost 
     interest and quit playing. It was later learned that he had 
     started experimenting with marijuana and alcohol and as a 
     result, he started getting into trouble at school. As a 
     single mother, Tyler's mom found herself at odds with a 
     strong-willed boy who told her he just wanted ``to have fun 
     and not be tied down by responsibilities, those will come 
     soon enough.'' By the time Tyler graduated high school in 
     2010, he was using marijuana and alcohol almost daily and 
     experimented with K2, bath salts and Xanax.
       Tyler had dreams of becoming a Texas Ranger, but he had 
     gone too far into his head and couldn't see a way out. He had 
     gotten in trouble with the law for underage drinking and 
     possession of marijuana on several occasions. He finally got 
     his head clear for a while and started working on the road to 
     pay off his fines. Everything seemed to be falling into 
     place, but his love for fun and adventure kept him searching 
     for the next good time.
       On many occasions Tyler woke up still wasted, wondering 
     where his money went. In May 2015 he came to me once again 
     and said he was tired of the life he was living. He asked his 
     mother for help. Tyler longed to have a straight mind and 
     clean life but he just couldn't seem to shake the addiction. 
     Despite his desire to clean up, he refused to go to an 
     inpatient facility. As a nurse his mother set an alternative 
     plan of care in motion and he stayed clean and sober for 29 
     days, until one day he left and she didn't hear from him for 
     weeks. When his mother put out a missing person alert he 
     surfaced just to let her know he was OK; she knew he was 
     using again.
       They talked off and on for a month while he was staying 
     with a woman known in town to be a meth user. When she was 
     arrested in August 2015 Tyler came asking for a place to 
     stay. His mother let him stay under the conditions that he 
     would get a job and stay drug-free. He did for a while but 
     quickly reverted back to his partying lifestyle. She 
     struggled with him and the choices he was making. His mother 
     didn't know how to handle it.
       One of Tyler's friends was found dead in a field from an 
     overdose of meth, and Tyler was questioned in his death. 
     Tyler's innocence was later proven, but that didn't curb the 
     harassment he took from people that still believed he was 
     guilty. That event shook Tyler and his mother thought he was 
     on his way to being clean and sober. He seemed ready to 
     conquer the world.
       On February 6, 2016, Tyler went out with some people he 
     thought he could trust. They drank and smoked pot and when 
     Tyler passed out one of them shot him in the spine with a 
     lethal dose of methamphetamines. Tyler was rushed into the 
     hospital at 3:00 AM on February 7, 2016, with a core 
     temperature of 108 degrees. The doctors didn't expect him to 
     make it past the hour, but Tyler lived for 24 days in 
     critical condition with severe multi-system organ failure. He 
     was never able to speak a word again but he communicated with 
     eye and hand movement. Drugs took his life away and his 
     mother believes he realized that on March 2, 2016, when he 
     tried to climb out of the hospital bed--it was as if he was 
     saying, ``I am out of here momma, I'm going home.''
       ``Tyler lived a short 24 years,'' writes his mother. ``He 
     had so much more life to live. As I said before, Tyler was a 
     fighter and very independent, he wasn't going to be taken 
     care of for the rest of his life. He thought he had control 
     over his addiction and that he wasn't hurting anyone but 
     himself. But there are so many of us hurting because his life 
     ended on March 3, 2016, when he stopped fighting and was set 
     free from the pain. I hope and pray that sharing his story 
     will help someone else who is struggling. I have to believe 
     that his life was not cut short for nothing, that good things 
     will rise out of this tragedy. Rest, my sweet Tyler, and save 
     a place for me. I'll be home soon. Until then I will share 
     your story with whoever will listen!''

                       Adam Schultz--Sandy, Utah

       Adam Schultz was an incredible person, who lost his life to 
     an accidental heroin overdose on November 24, 2012, after 150 
     days of being clean. He struggled every day with a substance 
     use disorder. Adam worked hard on his recovery through 
     treatment, recovery support, and medication.
       Adam was born December 19, 1989, and his family were lucky 
     enough to bring him home on Christmas Eve. He was their 9 lb. 
     4 oz. big, baby boy. Adam was always smiling and happy. He 
     learned to walk at a very young age and his motor was always 
     running. His family often referred to him as the ``Adam 
     Bomb.'' At five years old he was diagnosed with ADHD and put 
     on medication for hyperactivity and impulsivity.
       Adam was gifted with his hands. He loved woodworking and 
     became the handyman around the house. He was computer-
     literate and had received his A+ certification as a computer 
     technician as well. He was regularly called by many with PC 
     emergencies and were in need of troubleshooting or computer 
     repairs. Adam never hesitated to help when asked. However, 
     his true passion was working on cars. At age 13, he bought a 
     1966 mustang and decided to restore it himself and worked on 
     it all through high school. He also loved his Mitsubishi 
     Eclipse and always kept it in tip-top shape.
       As a teen, Adam struggled with depression and it was 
     difficult to find the right treatment. The doctors put him on 
     multiple medications, which ended up causing seizures. He was 
     then diagnosed with epilepsy and once the medication was 
     adjusted the seizures stopped.
       Despite all the diagnoses and medications, the one that had 
     the biggest impact on Adam's life came in 2007, when he was 
     17 years old. Adam was diagnosed with degenerative disk 
     disease and given a prescription for OxyContin. This 
     dangerously addictive

[[Page E116]]

     medication quickly became a problem, and Adam was soon 
     physically dependent, not just for pain but also to function 
     in his daily life. This was where his addiction began.
       In January 2008, at 18 years old, Adam checked himself into 
     the hospital for being suicidal. He was then diagnosed with 
     bipolar disorder and an addiction to opiates. He received 
     counseling, started on bipolar meds, and was put on high 
     doses of Suboxone to help with his addiction and also relieve 
     his back pain. But six months later, after another night in 
     the psych ward, he gave up on that medication and started 
     using heroin.
       ``It is absolutely paralyzing to learn that your son has a 
     substance use disorder,'' writes Adam's mother. ``The stigma 
     of having a child struggling with addiction caused us to 
     withdraw rather than seek help. We learned how to live life 
     with the truth hidden in the back of our hearts. We knew Adam 
     was more than his addiction, and we desperately wanted our 
     boy back.''
       Adam suffered and struggled for many years; finally, he 
     found a medication that seemed to work for him. Adam received 
     injections of Vivitrol for opioid addiction, and his life 
     started getting back on track. After not using for 13 months, 
     he relapsed and this time he started injecting heroin. After 
     a six-month relapse, he set up an appointment to start 
     receiving his Vivitrol shots again. In early November of that 
     year, Adam was due for another injection. When he went in for 
     his appointment, he managed to convince his doctor that he 
     was ready to ``try'' one month without the shot. His entire 
     life, Adam hated being on medication; whenever he started 
     doing better, he insisted he didn't need it any more. So he 
     stopped taking Vivitrol and scheduled an appointment for 
     December to be re-evaluated.
       Weeks later, Adam totaled his car on his way home from 
     work. This was just too much and, after 150 days of not using 
     heroin, Adam relapsed and lost his battle with addiction. 
     Over 300 people attended his funeral. A woman Adam worked 
     with told his family that just a few days before, Adam would 
     have stopped to help someone fix a flat tire; this just goes 
     to show you that people are more than their addictions.

                Andrew Benjamin Smith--Las Vegas, Nevada

       Margie Borth's world was forever changed on October 5, 
     2014, when her husband uttered those words: ``I just received 
     an email--Andrew is addicted to heroin.'' The news hit like a 
     baseball bat between the eyes. Suddenly, all of the questions 
     she'd been struggling with regarding her son were answered: 
     Why so many car accidents? Why is he so distant? Why does he 
     get mad and refuse to talk? Why doesn't he have any money?
       Still I tried--I tried everything I could possibly think to 
     do in such a desperate situation. I begged, sobbed, hugged, 
     listened, scolded, yelled, pleaded--I mothered. I bargained 
     with Andrew and with God.
       But he was just visiting for the weekend and soon he had to 
     get back to his job. Within two weeks, he was in the hospital 
     with his first DUI and another wrecked car. He had overdosed 
     on the streets of Las Vegas while driving. Thank god no one 
     was hurt. He died just 21 days later, after spending a short 
     stint in rehab.
       When remembering Andrew, the first thing people talk about 
     is his intellect. He was extremely bright; he thrived in 
     accelerated programs and graduated from college in three 
     short years. Many of his friends have said, ``He was the 
     smartest guy I've ever met.'' Then we remember his razor-
     sharp, witty, often self-effacing sense of humor. Andrew was 
     also inquisitive, a good listener and a loyal friend. He was 
     polite and people took to liking him immediately.
       He was driven and it seemed as though he had the world at 
     his fingertips. Andrew was confident about his opinions, view 
     of the world and goals in life. He inspired many people 
     during his short life. He was well loved by co-workers and a 
     role-model for new employees at his new position in Las 
     Vegas. His employer said they had so many plans for Andrew's 
     future. She told me he always volunteered for extra projects, 
     never complained and would have given the shirt off his back 
     to someone in need.
       Andrew began experimenting with drugs in high school, but 
     his addiction to Oxycontin developed in 2009 while he was 
     attending college in Florida during the Pill Mills--Oxy was 
     cheap and readily available. Andrew often expressed his 
     frustration with trying to find people on his intellectual 
     level; Oxy made him feel more like everyone else. Oxy made 
     people, life and college feel tolerable. Throughout the 
     trajectory of his use, he thought he was in control. Even 
     when he was forced to switch to heroin in 2014, he told a 
     friend, ``Heroin is not so bad, it's just like Oxy.'' In 
     August 2014, he took a job promotion in Las Vegas and thought 
     he could leave heroin behind: ``Mom, I never planned to do 
     heroin here,'' he said. ``I planned to quit, but I realized I 
     was an addict when I got to Las Vegas and still had to have 
     it.'' Even at the very end, when his life really began to 
     unravel, he still thought he had the upper hand on this drug. 
     He refused long-term treatment and thought he could return to 
     work after detox. I spend the last 6 days of his life with 
     him, he was clean for 19 days before he overdosed. During 
     that time, he told me what I wanted to hear, ``I don't want 
     to do heroin again, Mom.'' But he struggled; he was deeply 
     sad and ashamed of what his life had become. On the surface, 
     he was a successful corporate executive who appeared to have 
     everything in check. He had great credit and a 401k. But in 
     reality, he was a struggling addict who lived for Oxycontin 
     and ultimately heroin--he was desperate to keep it a secret.
       On a Monday afternoon, on November 10, 2014, Andrew handed 
     me two red roses and said he wanted to go to an AA meeting. I 
     was so excited that he was finally making progress and 
     dropped him off at a meeting soon after. An hour later when 
     he didn't respond to my texts or phone calls, I knew in my 
     heart what had happened. The hospital called 45 minutes 
     later. He was found in the bathroom of a Petsmart just down 
     the street. It was too late to save him. He died alone.
       I simply miss my son--he was my only boy and my youngest. 
     Even though we lived in different cities, he was always 
     present in my life except for the few times that he distanced 
     himself due to his drug use. Even then, I knew I'd eventually 
     get a phone call and a visit. I had hopes of grandchildren 
     because he talked about becoming a father someday. He wanted 
     to meet someone educated, maybe a doctor.
       What I miss most is what could have been. He talked about 
     wanting to move to the Pacific Northwest eventually, close to 
     Portland, OR, where I live. I always thought he would join 
     us. I miss his open-mindedness and intellect. His willingness 
     to try new foods, adventures, places, his sense of humor. I 
     miss our playful banter. I miss every phone call that ended 
     in, ``I Love You''. Now there is just an enormous void in my 
     life where he used to be. Sadness and tears are now a part of 
     my everyday.

                          ____________________