Mr. President, we have come to a crisis in our country. My State of West Virginia has the highest drug overdose death rate in the Nation. West Virginia reported 818 overdose deaths last year--four times the number that occurred in 2001 and…
Mr. President, we have come to a crisis in our country. My State of West Virginia has the highest drug overdose death rate in the Nation. West Virginia reported 818 overdose deaths last year--four times the number that occurred in 2001 and a nearly 13-percent increase over 2015. We lost more than 700 West Virginians who died from an opioid overdose last year. Some 42,000 people in West Virginia, including 4,000 youth, sought treatment for illegal drug use but failed to receive it because of a lack of treatment centers, which we have been trying to correct. In West Virginia, drug overdose deaths have soared by more than 700 percent since 1999.
West Virginia had the highest rate of prescription drug overdose deaths of any State last year--31 per 100,000 people. In West Virginia, providers wrote 138 painkiller prescriptions for every 100 people. Think about this. Doctors are prescribing and manufacturers are producing. They have written 138 painkiller prescriptions for every 100 people in my State--the highest rate in the country. I hope Arkansas is not facing the same dilemma we are.
Every day in our country, 91 Americans die from an opioid overdose. Opioids now kill more people than car accidents. In 2015, the number of heroin deaths nationwide surpassed the number of deaths from gun homicides. Since 1999, we have lost almost 200,000 Americans to prescription drug opioid abuse.
Mr. President, 2.1 million Americans abuse or are dependent on opioids. According to the CDC, three out of four new heroin users abused prescription opioids before moving to heroin. Heroin use has more than doubled among young adults ages 18 to 25 in the past decade. Forty-five percent of the people who used heroin were also addicted to prescription opioid painkillers. Between 2009 and 2013, only 22 percent of Americans suffering from opioid addiction participated in any form of addiction treatment.
Misuse and abuse of opioids cost the country an estimated $78.5 billion in 2013 in lost productivity, medical costs, and criminal justice costs.
Every week, I come to the Senate floor to read letters from West Virginians and those struggling all throughout our country with opioid abuse. The reason I do this is because it is a silent killer. We don't talk about it. There is not one of us in the Senate, not one of us in Congress, not one of us in any gathering who doesn't know someone in our immediate family, extended family, or a close friend who hasn't been affected, but we would never talk about it because it was so embarrassing--how did it ever break down in our family, whether you had a model family or you thought you did. This is a killer. Whether Democrat or Republican, conservative or liberal, this is a killer. It has no discretion. It has no partisan base. It goes after one and the other. So this is what we are dealing with.
The letters I read have a common theme: They all mention how hard it is to get themselves or loved ones into treatment. Sometimes it takes months, and sometimes it never happens. This problem stems from our lack of a system to help those who are looking for help. We need permanent funding to create and expand substance abuse treatment facilities to help people get clean and stay clean.
I know the Presiding Officer has heard this before, but that is why I introduced the LifeBOAT Act. The LifeBOAT Act puts one penny per milligram of opiates--basically, one penny for every milligram of opiates produced in America, consumed in America--into a fund that pays for treatment centers. In the Presiding Officer's beautiful State of Alaska and my State of West Virginia, people need treatment. This is an illness. I used to look at it 20 years ago as basically a criminal act, and we put them in jail. Guess what. They came out of jail just as addicted as they went in. Nothing changed, so I am willing to change. I have always said that if you can't change your mind, you can't change anything. This is an illness that needs treatment, and we are responsible for that. This lifeboat would establish a steady, sustainable funding stream to provide and expand access to substance abuse treatment.
Today I am going to read a letter from parents from West Virginia who lost their son to drug abuse. This is Renee and Criss's letter, which they want me to read. This fine-looking young man was a father, and this is such a tragic ending to this story.
Dear Senator Manchin,
I am writing to you in the hope of bringing to light the
devastating effects of heroin addiction, overdose death and
the difficulty in finding treatment for those afflicted with
the disease and their families.
On November 12th, 2016, we lost our 23-year-old son, Nick,
who died from what we thought at the time was a heroin
overdose. When Nick's autopsy report came back, we discovered
that his body contained no trace of heroin in his system. He
had died from a fatal dose of straight fentanyl.
Nick was a quiet, kind and inquisitive child. He learned to
speak and read at an early age and spent most of his time
absorbed in books and riding his bike and scooter. He also
loved playing in the woods and dreaming up adventures with
his sisters and neighborhood friends. He was a protective big
brother, and he had a natural way of connecting with kids who
were ``different'' and making them feel accepted.
Nick was always tall for his age. He came into this world
on July 5th, 1993, weighing in at 10 pounds and topped off at
6'8". He loved sports and excelled in basketball and soccer.
He even met you when you were Governor Manchin, after his
basketball team traveled to Charleston, WV, to celebrate
their A State Basketball Tournament Championship in 2011.
After high school he went on to play basketball for the
Glenville State College Pioneers. Nick wasn't able to keep
his grades up and had to drop out of Glenville after the
first semester of school. Shortly after that, he met a girl.
They instantly connected, and he soon became a father to her
daughter. After several years together, they had a son of
their own.
After having difficulty holding down jobs and providing for
his family, Nick came to me in November of 2015 and told me
that he was addicted to opiate prescription drugs. We had
suspected drug use for quite some time but didn't realize the
extent of it. He said that he could no longer live the life
he was leading and needed help. Nick and his girlfriend had
started using opiate-based prescription drugs after she was
prescribed them for her recovery from the birth of her
daughter in 2013. At first, they would make trips to the
doctor or quick care with fake ailments in order to get their
prescriptions. If they couldn't get prescriptions, then they
bought from drug dealers. The pills were easy to get up until
the time he came to me for help.
I told my husband about Nick's drug problem, and not
knowing what to do, we turned to the Internet as a source of
information. We found a lot of information and many treatment
centers across the country. I began calling a few of the ones
that looked reputable, but in each case, they required three
to five thousand dollars up front for a 28 to 30 day
treatment. The question now was: Were these treatment centers
as good as they appeared to be on their websites or were they
simply out to make a profit and marketing their centers to
bring in more patients?
While we researched and tried to make a decision, Nick, not
wanting to be away from his family, went through detox at
home and had convinced him and us that he could do this on
his own. Nick made it through his first round of self-detox
but started using again for a short while at the end of
January. We confronted him, and he immediately started his
second round of self-detox. He again swore that he could do
this himself and was finished with the life he was leading.
We were still trying to figure out what to do with him and
what would happen to his family while he was gone. We didn't
know that his girlfriend was also using and detoxing along
with Nick.
After speaking to several people at a local treatment
center and trying to arrange for him to be admitted, we were
told that they wouldn't take him because [of] our insurance.
My next course of action was to call local counseling centers
that offered addiction counseling, hoping that they would be
able to offer advice. Each one I called politely told me that
they couldn't help.
Nick's addiction, and our focus on him, was taking away
from our being able to celebrate and focus on our other
children, Nick's two sisters. We decided to put Nick on the
backburner while we prepared for our daughter's graduation
party and the school events that preceded it, thinking that a
few weeks wouldn't hurt. Were we ever wrong!
It is a sad scenario when a family has to hope that their child gets arrested
and gets a conviction record so they can go to a drug court to get treatment, that that is the only help they have.
One of our daughters had learned that Nick could get
treatment if we pressed charges against him for theft. He
would be charged, then court-ordered to be sent to an
addiction treatment center. She felt that this was the best
course of action to get Nick the help he needed, but Criss
and I were hesitant because of the negative impact a felony
charge would have on Nick's life if the charges weren't
expunged after completing his treatment.
Which is our what we call fresh start or last-chance bill, which the Presiding Officer has been so graciously looking at and hopefully will be a part of this. It is a shame they fall into this.
Our decision to not go this route caused even more anger.
Since they knew that, hindsight being 20/20, this was the only way to get Nick help.
Little did we know that, by late-March or early April, Nick
and his girlfriend had decided to celebrate their being clean
by using heroin ``just this once'' as a reward for staying
clean.
They were rewarding themselves by using heroin to celebrate being clean. Now, understand, that is not proper thinking. That is not rational common sense.
In the past, the two had snorted heroin but had never
injected it. When they went to buy from their dealer, he told
them that since they didn't have much money and there were
two of them, they could get a better high with less heroin if
they injected it. And that was the beginning of a rapid
decline.
On June 2, 2016, Nick had his first overdose. Without our
knowledge, his girlfriend had taken Nick, along with the
children, to the emergency room, where he was treated and
released within a few hours. Unbeknownst to us, this
initiated a call to CPS that would result in her daughter's
father taking custody of her and CPS involvement for Nick and
his girlfriend and their son.
At the hospital, Nick and his girlfriend talked with a
doctor out of Pittsburgh about Suboxone. They agreed to try
the program. I traveled with Nick, his girlfriend and her
mother for the first visit to Pittsburgh. They had a high
success rate, and it was decided that once the treatment was
established, the two would go to Pittsburgh once a month for
drug testing, counseling and their Suboxone prescriptions.
The clinic would line up additional support services in
Parkersburg or close by. We were very impressed with the
clinic, their staff and their program, which only took on 100
patients at a time.
Criss came to the next meeting two weeks later to speak
with the counselors and was now more comfortable with the
treatment plan. Unfortunately, when the counselors tried to
set up local support services, they were shocked to find the
small number of places that treated addiction and the fact
that the ones that were here would not provide services for
patients who were not in their program. The decision was made
to increase their sessions to twice a month and eventually
once a week when it became apparent through consistent
``dirty'' screens that the two were struggling with the
program [and still using].
In August, his girlfriend suffered an overdose. The
Pittsburgh Clinic called shortly after that and said that
they were releasing the two from the program, letting us know
that they needed a more intense treatment plan than they
could provide. I called the CPS case worker and addiction
counselor that were assigned to watch over the children and
monitor the two after Nick's overdose in June. We all met at
the house to determine the next course of action. After
numerous phone calls, we were able to find an ``open'' bed in
Las Vegas, Nevada, for Nick, while his girlfriend would
decide the following week to go to a treatment center in
Fairmont, WV.
In less than a week, Nick was on a plane to Vegas, eager to
begin a new, clean life. He was upbeat and positive before he
left, excited by the prospect of finally leaving behind the
life of addiction that he'd been living for so long. During
his phone calls home, he had positive things to say about his
treatment. He was staying in nice homes that were part of the
treatment center. Along with their daily treatment schedule,
they were taken on hikes and went go-cart racing. He even had
a manicure at the facility's salon. The purpose of these
activities was to teach the patients natural ways of
experiencing highs.
Nick's release date was scheduled for October 3rd. There
were longer-term treatment plans offered at the facility, but
Nick missed his son and worried about his girlfriend and
wanted to come home. The treatment center had set up group
sessions for him three times a week for a period of about six
weeks.
Nick came home on a beautiful, sunny day. I waited at home
for him with his son, who had been staying with me, and his
other grandmother.
I wish we had this picture of his son, a beautiful little boy.
When I saw Nick for the first time, he looked beautiful. He
looked and acted like the Nick that we had known before
addiction. He told us about his stay in Vegas and was
literally shining with hope! He told me, ``Mom, I will
never go back to that life!'' And I believed it was
possible.
That hope began to fade pretty quickly. Nick had started
working about six weeks before he left for rehab. It had
taken him a long time to get that job and he enjoyed it and
felt that he could actually provide for his family if he
could work his way up. However, after rehab he was unable to
secure a job. Nick was going to his scheduled group sessions
and going to nightly NA meetings for support. Nick finished
up his six weeks of group therapy. He was so proud when he
received his ``sixty day's clean'' chip at the NA meeting.
Seven days later he and I spent part of the afternoon
together. He wanted to look for a job and I had some errands
to run. He dropped me off where I needed to be and applied
for jobs. When I finished, he picked me up and I took him to
Sam's Club to show him cute toys for his son for Christmas.
We picked out a racetrack together and I showed him a few
other things I had bought for my grandson. I had mentioned
that Criss might get his son a basketball hoop for Christmas
and he told me, ``No Mom, I want to buy that for him with my
own money.''
We had a good afternoon together. He had made plans for the
evening, to meet up with some of his high school friends who
were in for the weekend. He left my house around eight
o'clock and I heard him return around 12:35 am. All of his
friends later said that he'd had a good night. He was happy
and smiling and there was nothing to indicate that there was
anything wrong. Shortly after I heard Nick come in, my
grandson's crying woke me up and I woke to change him, give
him a bottle. I headed back to bed and noticed the light on
in the bathroom and knocked and opened the door. It was
around 1:45 am and Nick was lying on the bathroom floor with
no pulse and not breathing. I called 911 and began CPR.
Within minutes the ambulance arrived. They worked on him for
some time while I spoke to the police officer then they took
him out to the ambulance. I assumed they had stabilized him
enough to transport him and waited for my in-laws to arrive
to watch our grandson.
When Criss and I were called back into the emergency room
we did not expect to hear that Nick had passed. We didn't
expect that we would have to call our daughters to tell them
that their brother was dead or that we would sit in a room
with him feeling him go cold while we waited for our daughter
to arrive from Morgantown. We weren't able to get in touch
with our other daughter and had to send my sister over the
following morning to tell her the news. We didn't expect that
in less than two days we'd be picking out a coffin and
cemetery plot for our son.
We expected that we would be sending him back to treatment
in the hope that the next round would be successful. We
expected another chance. And what we have now is the
knowledge that we failed our son in the worst way possible.
Sincerely,
Renee and Criss Fisher.
There is a picture that would be hard to show because it was the most moving picture I have ever seen. They sent me the picture of Nick, this wonderful young man, lying in a casket and his little boy tiptoed up holding on. That should move all of us to do the right thing here, to start finding treatment centers, to start working with this illness, to find ways to understand, and to start intervening. You have to intervene from inception, from birth and all the way through, educating children. It is destroying economies. It is destroying families. It is destroying, basically, communities all over this country.
It is something that I hope we all can fight. To lose a young man-- this was a terrific young man, and to lose him to drugs is uncalled for.
I yield the floor.