Drugs were everywhere in those days, even in my small town. And you know what? Drugs are still everywhere. New drugs. Powerful drugs. Glamorous, sexy drugs that make people think they can do anything at any time, anywhere. And they still kill.
There's a new drug out there (new to me--to users, it's been around a while). It's called Opana. On a recent happy trip to an out of town athletic event a young friend, somebody I love, shared with me that three members of his immediate family are hooked on this drug. It is ruining their lives. Even as I type these words on this blessedly beautiful day it is ruining their lives. My friend is a survivor. He will continue to be a survivor because I know him, I know his spirit. But their actions have been and will always affect him, for the rest of his life.
Just this week I sat with another friend, a mom with whom I have shared the ups and downs of mom-hood on more than one occasion, and I listened as she unflinchingly told me her own tale from the trenches where she is fighting strongly, faithfully, against this drug that has taken its hold among her own bright, beautiful children.
This drug is killing our kids. It's taking them down paths from which there may be no return. This isn't melodrama. It isn't hype. It's fact.
It starts innocently enough. Drinking (all teenagers do that, don't they?) Some weed (it's no worse than drinking a few beers, right?). Then something a little more. A line or two of coke. No problem--didn't affect me one bit. And then the self-conscious girl (and aren't they all, no matter how sexy, self-conscious), the guy who wants to be tough (and don't they all, no matter the size of their biceps, want to be tough), is offered a new high. This one is guaranteed to beat all others. C'mon man. You'll love it. You're a ***** if you don't.
One sniff. One swallow. That's all it takes. And there he or she goes. The beautiful kid we love is lost.
We parents are the last to know. That's nothing new to 2012. Even in 1975 or 1955 the parents were the last to know. So it always has been, so it always shall be. And with the advent of lightning-speed technology, of 24-hour communication access to the subculture that is the adolescent/young adult world, it is even more so.
So the mom is in the kitchen cooking supper, the dad sprawled out in front of ESPN, or they both are at work, safe in the knowledge that said beautiful daughter, said strong son, is at school, living the dream, when the phone rings and life never looks the same, will never be the same. Ever.
I don't have an answer. All I have is more questions. But I do have this to offer: it's Opana. It's heroin for the privileged. It's a killer--swift, indiscriminate and sure. And it doesn't look like you think. It looks like this:
