Mr. President, I rise today to discuss an issue that is devastating families and communities in my home State of New Hampshire and across the United States: the fentanyl, heroin, and opioid crisis. This crisis is the most pressing public…
Mr. President, I rise today to discuss an issue that is devastating families and communities in my home State of New Hampshire and across the United States: the fentanyl, heroin, and opioid crisis. This crisis is the most pressing public and safety challenge that New Hampshire faces. It does not discriminate. It affects people in every community and from every walk of life.
In 2016 alone, 485 people in New Hampshire lost their lives as a result of this epidemic. The rising use of synthetic drugs like fentanyl is making matters worse, killing people faster with smaller amounts. Last year, 72 percent of drug-related deaths in New Hampshire involved fentanyl. Behind those numbers are real people--moms and dads, sons and daughters who are dying. Their loss reverberates in pain and suffering for the family and friends whom they have left behind.
The people of my State have a longstanding tradition of sharing their stories and their priorities with their elected officials who represent them. Everywhere I go, I hear stories from those families and friends of people who have been affected by this crisis. Granite Staters are stepping forward and explaining what they have gone through, all in an attempt to break down the stigma of addiction, push for solutions, and hope that they can help others by making their voices heard.
Earlier this year, Greg and Linda of Derry, NH, reached out to my office to share the story of their son, who was also named Greg. They wrote to say:
If you were to put a name and face to this disease, it
would be that of the devil. Let's change that. Let's put a
face of hope and humanity to the disease of addiction. If by
doing so, even if just one life is saved, it is worth it.
I would like to share some of Greg's story today. Greg was born on November 16, 1985. He and his younger brother Neil were raised in a caring and loving home, where their parents did their best to teach them right from wrong, stressing the importance of being considerate, polite, and kind.
When Greg was 15, his parents moved to Derry, where he attended Pinkerton Academy and graduated with honors in 2004. During his senior year, like so many other students his age, he applied for college, eventually deciding on Keene State College, pursuing a major in biochemistry. He had a dream of becoming a physician.
He excelled academically, but his mom Linda said that during his transition between his freshman and sophomore year, something began to appear off. She wrote:
I saw firsthand that something was off about him. He was
very quiet and withdrawn. He was showing obvious signs of
depression which runs in both sides of the family.
Even as his depression progressed, Greg battled through. He graduated cum laude with a bachelor's degree in biochemistry. After graduating and moving back home, his parents urged him to seek help, but Greg held back. During this time, he had an outpatient surgery, after which he was prescribed an opioid-based painkiller. His mom said that after he was prescribed that opioid, he went from bad to worse.
Eventually Greg sought help. He saw a physician and was prescribed an anti-depressant. His mom said he seemed to be coming back around; he seemed happier. He took steps to advance his career, hoping to find a job with his biochemistry degree that would offer him a reimbursement on tuition so that he could continue to pursue a career in medicine. Though the job market was tough, his mom said:
Hands down, I have to say that one of the happiest days of
my life was when he finally got a decent job. . . . The dark
cloud was lifted--temporarily.
Unfortunately, Greg eventually lost that job, and then things spiraled out of control. His mom wrote:
The years following were a nightmare to remember. Just
imagine a loved one slowly losing all sense of themselves.
Legal trouble, bouncing from one job to the next, losing his
license more than once while we drove him back and forth from
jobs--some an hour away.
A restraining order here, a night in jail there. Debts that
weren't getting paid. Fits of rage, fights, a lack of
interest in family, friends, and basic hygiene.
She said:
By the time our worst fears were confirmed, he was using
heroin, we basically lost the soul of our son.
Greg's last few years were filled with back-and-forths. He had overdosed, his brother finding him in the bathroom of their home. Tired of being dependent on heroin, he sought help, signing up for a methadone clinic, entering rehab, and giving his parents hope that he would make progress.
Unfortunately, he started to use again but was getting ready to enter a drug court program. After joining his family on a vacation to visit an ailing relative, he decided to clean up his act, going to the gym and eating right.
Tragically, though, his mom wrote:
This was short lived however, as the demon snuck into his
room and stole him from us. All he left for us was a lifeless
body on the floor behind a locked door.
Greg's death and his heartbreaking story is the story of far too many people in New Hampshire and across the country, of people with dreams, hopes, and aspirations, whose lives are cut short as a result of this illness. Greg wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to be a husband and a father. He loved dogs and video games, and he loved to watch Patriots games on Sunday with his mom, his dad, and his brother. As his mom put it:
Brilliant and head strong, he was to be reckoned with, and
as his parents, we will never stop trying, on his behalf, to
see that there is an end to this epidemic.
His parents wanted to make clear that his substance use disorder really grew as a result of the opioid he was prescribed following surgery, a painkiller that was originally manufactured for terminally ill patients. They believe that pharmaceutical companies marketed this drug at the expense of their son, saying: ``Given to ease pain and suffering, ironically, it has caused irreparable pain, suffering, and death.''
We can never thank families who have lost loved ones enough for speaking out about this issue and for working tirelessly and courageously to try to prevent others from suffering as they have. Nor can we forget to thank law enforcement and first responders who are on the frontlines of this epidemic.
I want to make a special mention of Greg's father, Greg senior, who is a firefighter in Nashua, witnessing as a first responder every day the havoc that this crisis wreaks on other families and living with the reality of his own family's loss too.
Greg's mom said that at the moment of his death, she vowed that she would ensure that his life would not be in vain. His family reached out because they wanted to make a difference. I am grateful for their efforts to do this because they do, in fact, have the ability to make change.
Speaking up helps break down the stigma that prevents too many from seeking help and prevents too many others from offering it. It provides a
voice to the voiceless, making those who have died more than just a statistic. It gives us a perspective from which we can learn, and it pushes us to take action.
While thanking these families for their bravery is appropriate, it is simply not enough. Their bravery and their struggle must be marked by constant vigilance and urgent action. We must continue to focus on an ``all hands on deck'' approach at all levels of government and with those on the frontlines in order to make progress, save lives, and end this epidemic.
I am going to continue fighting and working with Members of both parties to combat this crisis, and I will continue sharing the stories of the people of my State. It is up to all of us to stop this from happening to more families.
I suggest the absence of a quorum.