When we see someone asking for naloxone at the drug store, we assume they’re a drug user. In fact, naloxone seekers are life-savers. The conversation needs to change
As a university student living during a toxic drug crisis, I recently decided to take an opioid awareness course to learn about harm reduction and how I can play a part in saving lives.
Not only did the course teach me to recognize the signs of an overdose — unconsciousness, pinpoint pupils and deep gurgling sounds, for instance — but I also learned how to administer naloxone, a medication that temporarily reverses the effects of an opioid overdose.
Naloxone comes in a nasal-spray dosage that is easy to deliver by spraying it up the nostril of someone experiencing overdose symptoms. It attaches to opioid receptors in the brain, temporarily blocking the effects of the toxic drugs. The pharmacist running the course encouraged everyone to pick up a naloxone kit. They’re available free at most Ontario pharmacies.
Feeling empowered after the course, that’s exactly what I did.
But self-consciousness quickly shrouded any sense of empowerment I felt as I asked for this life-saving kit.
I stepped up to the pharmacy counter and found myself lowering my voice as I uttered my request.
“Naloxone?” the pharmacist echoed back at me as she did a quick double take, examining me more closely before promptly nodding and retreating into the pharmacy.
Did she think I was using opioids? Why did she react like that? My mind was racing.
My face bright red, I scanned the store around me to see if anyone overheard the interaction. I made eye contact with the person in line behind me, who furrowed their eyebrows and quickly looked away.
Was I imagining this? Possibly. The stigma around opioids and harm reduction unfortunately isn’t lost on me.
The stigma around opioid buries overdose recognition awareness and subsequent life-saving measures behind high social barriers.
Mainstreaming education around opioids and overdose prevention in Ontario high schools would be a key step to breaking down these barriers.
While going through high school, I remember every single conversation in my health class circling around one seemingly clear-cut solution to the drug crisis: “Just don’t do drugs.”
Instead of focusing on prohibition, what about harm reduction?
The anti-drug rhetoric present in high school curricula only furthers the social stigma around drug use. Instead, training students on how to recognize the signs of an overdose and administer naloxone accordingly is the key to preventing the toxic drug crisis from ravaging further.
The reality is, these drugs aren’t going away. People are still dying at alarming rates.
Starting the conversation around opioids in high school is vital as students enter the critical age where experimenting with substances becomes more enticing.
After taking the opioid awareness course, I now feel well-equipped to recognize and help treat an overdose. But it’s been more than three years since I graduated high school. Why didn’t I learn about this sooner?
The Ontario government took an important step in 2013 by making a nasal spray version of naloxone (called Narcan) available for free at most pharmacies as an emergency response. And data shows Ottawa is leading the pack in naloxone distribution.
Now, the focus must shift to education and awareness. The toxic drug crisis will not lessen without mainstream training on how to recognize an overdose and save a life — no matter how many kits are distributed.
When we see someone asking for naloxone at the pharmacy, society assumes they’re a drug user. In order to see naloxone seekers as life-savers, and thus encourage more people to keep naloxone on hand, conversations must change.