Hannah Rawlings Professor Kati Lewis English 2010 Fall 2017
Investigative Information Effect Project November 2017
What Is Heroin?
Origin of Opioids + Chemical Make-Up
In the last 10 years the United States has hit a record high of drug overdose deaths. According to (NIH,) it is estimated that there were more than 64,000 deaths from overdosing on Heroin and 20,000 overdose deaths from synthetic opioids in the year of 2016. In the Salt Lake City, Utah community. we have heard, obtain knowledge, maybe even hands-on experienced drug use effects on oneself or a loved one. But, where does Heroin originate?
Growing of Opium Poppy Plants dates all the way back to ancient times. The Sumerians called the plant "Hul Gil," meaning 'flower of joy.' This botanical flower is known to be grown and cared for in Asia, Turkey, Pakistan, Laos, Mexico, Columbia and slowing making way across the rest of Central America. The reason poppy plants are only able to grow in these specific countries is because the plants need a dry and warm climate to survive. Opium Poppy plant farms are planted in narrow field near or in the mountains. Some farms are as big as 4,500 mile stretch.
Opium Poppy plants are planted and spend three months growing. Once the poppies reach full growth, farmers have a specific process of tending their plants. The farmers wait until the flower petals have all fallen off and then exposing the seed pod, the seed pod is then cut in half and extracted forming a black, thick tar like gel. Farmers and village people involved in harvesting the plants, will then wrap the tar in leaves, bake into a cake, cemented into a brick. Really any possible way for the Heroin to be moved, shipped and sold without being caught. This is the 'Black Market.'
Now that we know the origin, what is the actual chemical make-up and effects of Heroin?
Opioids are chemically related and interact with the opioid receptors of the nerve cells in the body and brain. Opioid receptors are specific cell surface receptors within the central and peripheral nervous system, which then combine with naturally occurring opioid compounds producing endorphins in the body and brain used to reduce pain and increase a sense of euphoria. "Endorphins are morphine-like chemicals produced by the body that help diminish pain while triggering positive feelings. https://www.everydayhealth.com/endorphins/guide/
Black tar Heroin right off the streets is used by melting the tar with metal and a lighter while filling needle with the residue. The needle is then to be shot into the mid-arm vein. You can tell a Heroin addict by the markings on their fore arms. It is also known to shoot Heroin in-between toes, so it easier to hide your "track marks." Heroin can also be made into a powder which is burned through a pipe or inhaled by user. ('FRONTLINE; THE OPIUM KINGS, transforming opium poppies:' (summary) (intext citation)
Every year the death by drug overdose grows higher and higher. Us, as a community need to become well more educated on drug overdose, because believe it or not, addicts are overdosing all around us. While we become more educated on the subject, maybe we will be able to spot out the ones struggling at a much earlier state because their choices end up overdosing on Heroin or another Opioid drug.
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Multimedia & Visual Position Argument October 2017
I grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah, and for years I would frequently visit the Rio Grande restaurant with my family. I distinctly remember every time we would walk to and from our car in the parking lot, we would have two or three homeless individuals “pan handlers,” approach us asking for food or money, also known to my father as,
“I am a drug addict and alcoholic and I am going to spend the money on drugs.”
Retired Vet Anything Helps Hungry and Homeless etc.. etc.. etc
The mother with her child in a stroller or sitting on the ground playing with an old doll, sign asking for food, change for a bus pass and even better, gasoline for her car. Why isn't the child in school right now? Growing up, I was told that was laziness and selfish. There are Now Hiring signs everywhere. Why don't they get a job of their own instead of spending their time begging others for money? Grocery stores, gas stations, clothing shops, the list goes on. We all have different opinions, I am sure. I have a good friend that every time she sees someone on the side of the road asking for money or passing someone on the sidewalk, she will give them at least one dollar. She believes that theyneeded it more than she did. this same good friend has a loved one living on and off the streets of The Gateway in downtown Salt Lake City. Two men, every day on the Main Street corner, homeless signs in hand, one with a dog, of course, sitting on blankets, and shopping carts full of treasured trash. One shouted out asking for money, I approached him handing him a bagel and coffee while clutching my pepper spray in the other hand. I smiled and walked away, feeling a little anxious but happy. I am about twenty feet past and I hear a cat call followed with, “run along, stupid ****.”
What… Did I just hear that right?
I turn back around and the man is looking in my direction, pointing his middle finger right at me and all because I decided to give him food and not money. Middle aged, drug addict, alcoholic, 100% judgmentally decided. but, I couldn't help but feel bad for them. I have witnessed up close and personal drug deals, drug use and violence that follows and, of course, the "it's not them, it's the drugs." I can't say that everyone living on the streets of Salt Lake City are all drug addicts, because that wouldn't be correct. Some are actually retired disabled vets or unemployed mother of however many children. But, because of the high drug rate in Salt Lake City, the non-addict homeless population gets a bad rap. People think that homeless people should we locked up in jail or fined with a ticket that they will never be able to pay. As a community, we all need to take a step back and think from a different perspective, Let's HELP them HELP themselves. Let's TEACH life skills to the ones who want to LEARN.
* * * * * * August 14th of this past summer was the beginning of “Operation Rio Grande.” Over 100 law enforcement officers, local, state and even federal in attendance. The objective of Operation Rio Grande (ORG) was split into three different phases;
1. First, Public Safety and Restoring Order 2. Second, Assessment and Treatment 3. Third, Dignity of Work
Phase one, public safety and restoring order, before the actual start date of ORG, law enforcement went undercover in and around the neighborhood and streets located near the Rio Grande restaurant area. The purpose for these actions before the specific “set date” of phase one of Operation Rio Grande was for officers to indicate and identify the specific drugs being used and sold and also, the ones who were using and selling. State officials wanted to go about Operation Rio Grande in a more personal, emotional and supporting approach. The beginning objective wasn’t to make as many arrests as possible, but was to help the ones in need of drug or mental disorder rehab, clean the streets of drug deals and usage, and to help make our city and state safe(r) again.
Contrary to their first objective, once full action took place, arrests and charges of criminals spotted pre ORG went underway. Their were claims made that law enforcement offices were making arrests to those who were publicly intoxicated, possessing and open container, sleeping in the park of public property and even jaywalking. By the end of the first week of Operation Rio Grande, there had been 420 arrests and 99 of those were made over the weekend.
Phase two, assessment and treatment. Law enforcement and the Utah government went over physicals and analyzations of ones who were booked and charged and awaiting prosecution for crimes committed. They were to be evaluated based on a number of assessments, mental health stability, substance abuse and detox. Individuals waited in jail for test results of treatment needs and if live in facility is a must. Once in treatment one will experience a detox and major drug (Heroin, meth, cocaine, etc.) withdrawals. The problem with phase two, is there are not enough jail bed and treatment center beds for the excessive large number of arrests post phase one of Operation Rio Grande, at this time. Estimated cost of 5.6 Million dollars for government to shift around county and state inmates to and from different jails in the state of Utah. It is estimated that by the end of the year, 2017, there will be 241 more beds open among different treatment facilities opening in downtown Salt Lake City, Utah.
Phase three, Dignity and Support, objective to provide and increase the number of jobs and employment options and opportunities to the ones living on the streets on Rio Grande. The goal is to provide “employment and improved quality of life.” Utah government is working together to make and provide more and better working opportunities. Hoping to help the ones who need a little extra help in the right direction. As we are still at the beginning of the operation, it is in plan that there will be effort, action support from Utah law enforcement and Utah government through June of 2019.
One of the more exciting or, I should say, thrilling research sources, the most eye opening was my walk around Pioneer Park and the streets of and near Rio Grande. It is much different and almost emotional to see the vast population growth of homeless, drug addicts (deals,) alcohol sells and usage and the mentally disturbed or disordered. I felt scared but also jolts of excitement. Camera in hand, I was able to get first hand shots of a drug deal taken place. For a nice Sunday morning in plain sight, I saw a deal of Heroin between two men. My experience shows me that even though Utah government has started Operation Rio Grande and made an impact in the population and safety of the homeless downtown, but also that We as a community have a long way to go. I support the continuous efforts of the Utah law enforcement on Operation Rio Grande downtown Salt Lake City, Utah. I believe as a community, by June of 2019, we will have made a large and positive impact on and in the lives of the ones living on the streets homeless.
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Creative Non-Fiction Piece September 2017
One Last Time
Lying in bed... The same bed I have lied in for the past twenty years. The bed I have spent numerous of restless nights, fighting the anxiety from my sober body; but, as well as numerous nights spent passed out cold once my anxiety has defeated me and I am forced to let the meds take over.
This was one of those "not sober" nights.
I heard a loud pounding on my bedroom door... The pound on the door forced a gravity vibration through out the room space and bounced off the walls. This sound on the door woke me from my deepest sleep, the sleep you don’t want to wake up from. I wish I never heard that gravity pulling, stomach dropping and nervousness sound filling my then larger frame. I wish that night never happened, I wish it was all just a dream. The squeaky sound of the door opening… Man, I always hated that sound.
I had the sudden bursting view of light behind an object, it had to be...oh wait, my Mom. Not giving me enough time to respond, she walked in, “Hannah? I need to show you something.”
Just by the tone of my Mom’s voice, I felt the immediate drop of my heart to my gut. Before I was able to see out the window of the room over, I could already feel the goosebumps running down my spine to my toes, like if I had just walked out into a blizzard winter night. Jolts through my body joints, even a rush of warm blood traveling through my veins, contraction of my ab muscles and the sudden asthma wheeze from my lungs to my throat, all signs of a panic attack coming along.
I still had no idea what was going on.
The sight of red and blue flashing lights made me get that feeling like when you board a roller coaster and the butterflies you get when you are about to go over the edge… that feeling, but, not a good way. I could hear the sirens.
Another sound I always hated.
* * * * * * Opening my eyes to A morning with A sunrise, wild hair from all the tossing and turning, puffy, itchy, red eyes from all the emotions I was experiencing, oh, and I never could forget the continuous pit feeling in my stomach. I must have maybe gotten two hours of sleep. The flashback of what happened the night before running through my head over and over.
Was last night real or was I dreaming?
* * * * * * * * Walking through the quiet hallways of the hospital all I heard was the high-pitch sound of the rubber on my Nikes shoes skidding across the marble floor, and the sound of machines beeping in rooms down the hallway.
Why are all these sounds the ones I hate to hear?
So much anxiety, My heart pumping.
Laughter and cries echoing from down the hallway of the Intensive Care Unit, that had to be happy tears. Finally, a sound I wanted to hear. By the time I got to the end of the hallway I realized the laughter and happy cries were not coming from His room, but from a young man’s family in front of me. This young man, same age, same state of coma and for the same reason...Heroin overdose. The difference is he actually woke up from his.
I could feel the love and relief illuminating from whom I presume to be his family and close friends, tears of joy, embracing of one another and the biggest smiles I have ever seen. It took two footsteps and ten seconds for me to snap back to reality, almost like I was frozen in time… (weird that I can remember that, huh?) I was soaking up theirhappiness…
The room at the very end of the hallway on the right side read, "Cluff" * * * * * * * I don’t think I will be able to erase the sight from my mind, Him lying in a hospital bed and a million tubes and IVs inserted all over his body. You know, when you tell someone not to look and subconsciously they can’t help but look. Or, on the freeway when you pass an accident and you can't help but to look.. That is how I felt and we have all been there. I quickly focused my attention and view on others in the room. His parents, siblings and some people I had no idea who they were, and honestly, I wasn’t planning on introducing myself, I wasn’t going to be there long. I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept quiet. I don’t think anyone knows what to do, what to say, or even react to someone in that state. But, at this moment, it was like we were all thinking the same thing, you could feel it, but no one could actually say it out loud. He is going to die...
And, I don’t handle death very well. I have known this family for as long as I could remember, but I have never witnessed them in such a vulnerable state. There is a difference between someone becoming emotional over what they feel passionate about, as an example, beliefs. And, then, becoming emotional over Death. Well, in this case, “close to death.” And, all of us handle death differently. The embrace from His Mom felt like the kind when you haven’t seen someone for a long time. But, at the same time, I could feel the sadness, love and comfort. Shouldn’t I be the one comforting her? “Thank you for being His friend, thank you for your kindness and patience through His battles. Thank you for your love and support and thank you for being here for Him”. I will not forget this message from His Mom, I wrote it down in my journal right as I got back home. I haven’t been much a journal writer in the past, but this day was one I wanted to be able to look back on, maybe this was The Last Time I would see Him. Alive, anyways.
As I focused back to the bed, His body was bent as if He was hunched over in an extremely uncomfortable way. He had a chest tube inserted between His lungs. My mind tuned out, again, but this time to the sound of the respirator and view of His lungs slowing rising and collapsing, Over and over and over again. I couldn't help but stare. His heart monitor on, but not too much movement, barely any at all, some black scribbles on a screen, right in sync with the respirator. The medical induced coma was to hopefully help the brain swelling to go down. He had His head wrapped in medical tape and covering half of His head and face. They said he hit his head on the bathtub. They said there was little to no brain function.
But, don't people wake up from comas everyday? Are miracles all made up, I thought they happened all the time.
I knew there had been a lot of visitors by the pictures and sticky notes taped to the walls above His bed. I could read a few of them through my squinted eyes and 10-foot distance, but I recognized most of the names and faces on the wall... more than I would have thought. I brought a photo from graduation of Him and I,
A moment captured in time. I can look at back at the photo and remember Him as Happy, Healthy and Full of Life There was a small blue heart shaped sticky note on the food table next to me; “Brennan, I keep you in my prayers and send you so much love. I am grateful to have known you for so long. Stay Strong and Keep Pushing On. Whatever happens, I know you will find your own paradise and your own peace.” (Another journal entry)
I felt okay to sit in the chair next to Him, I taped the note and picture up to the wall above the heart monitor. I grabbed His cold lifeless hand. There lies 140 pounds of skin, muscle and bone. That hilarious, artistic mind was no longer there. There was no life, He was gone.
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Brennan lived for six days while in a coma, waiting for the organ donor team to find matching recipients. He was able to donate his heart, lungs, liver, kidneys and more. Because of Brennan, Lives were saved. Families were saved. Those lucky recipients will live to see A morning with A sunrise. I wish I had been there for Him closer to the end. But, isn’t that what everyone says after the death of a loved one? You wish you could have helped them in some way or another, and maybe just maybe, if you had been there, they would still be alive today. I am grateful for being able to be with him One Last Time before he passed, even if it was lying in a hospital bed with a million tubes inserted in his body.