The Woman Passed Out on the Street

Harm reduction

Those of you who knew me in my past lives know that I was a harm reduction activist. This was an accident. I never did illegal drugs - way too scared of that - but I drank too much and ended up in rehab in 2015, where I met, for the first time, people who had been addicted to heroin, crack and other things. The totally unintended consequence is that I moved my Masters in Public Health research in the direction of harm reduction for people who use drugs. I worked in the field off and on for pay and kept up with activism and writing, but I’ve stopped doing it in recent years. I find that for my own recovery, I usually need to avoid other people who are in crisis.

But yesterday was an exception.

After a lovely day of Zen, lunch with my Zen friends, a great talk with a friend in Ohio (Hi SC!) and catching up with various folks and things (including making my Israeli salad with FRESH PARSLEY!) I went out flower hunting again.

To be clear, I do not kill or even pick the flowers. I don’t even touch them. I just walk around and take pictures of them. My rule is that I can’t disturb them in any way. They pose just as they are in nature.

I had just taken a picture of newly blooming tulips when I walked onto the main street here and saw a woman clearly passed out on the sidewalk near a gas station. There are some people who are routinely passed out on the streets here, but this one I had never seen before. Her skin was burning in the sun. I was worried.

I thought about it for a bit. I tend to not involve myself, but I was really worried about this woman. So I stopped and woke her up. I asked if she needed anything.

It took a few tries to hear what she was saying, but she asked me to call the hospital and get her there. I called 911 and very soon, the paramedics picked her up. I gave her my number and said to call when she gets out. Maybe we can go second hand clothing shopping.

It’s not that hard to recognize the signs of opioid nodding out if you’ve seen it before. I don’t judge at all - life is hard. I’m just fortunate that those drugs never came my way. I was way too afraid, a kid scared by the Reagan years, to try them. Alcohol was difficult enough, and while I don’t talk about it much anymore, I work on my recovery to maintain it. It’s not hard to be thrown off track when life is life.

I hope she gets good care. I have gotten terrible care in hospitals, including a medical error that put me on a ventilator for eight days and nearly killed me. I avoid medical care, which I know is bad, but it is hard to deal with the flashbacks and the stigma. No matter how long you’ve been “sober” or gone without problems, if you have a substance use disorder on your charts, you’re going to face discrimination. The medical system hates us. I have heard nurses say, “I wish that junkie in the bed would just die.” I’ve seen my friends be forced to go through painful procedures without medication or anesthesia because doctors often don’t like to give medication to those with substance use disorders in their histories. The list goes on.

So I did what I could to help this woman.

I wouldn’t have had the courage if it weren’t for my harm reduction heroes: Kathleen Cochran of Moms for All Paths to Recovery, Ken Anderson of HAMS (Harm Reduction, Abstinence and Moderation Support), Sam Snodgrass of Broken No More, and many more. They all showed me that we can do what we can do, and if we all do it, we can change the world.

Maybe I can’t change the world. But at least that woman got medical care yesterday. And she knows that someone walking by on the street cared enough to stop and try to help.