OXYCONTIN HIGH DRAGGING ADDICTS DOWN TO THE GUTTER

It is one of the more definitive tales from the OxyContin underground:

After finding relief from her excruciating pain, an elderly woman in the
end stages of cancer returns home from the hospital . . . where she begins
to suffer almost immediately.

She screams to her doctor that the pain pills he's prescribed don't work.
Over the phone, the doctor asks his patient to read the label on the
bottle. It is exactly what he's ordered - OxyContin tablets at the maximum
strength of 80 milligrams.

"I'm telling you they're not working!" the woman insists.

The doctor has the patient return to the office, with her pills. When she
empties the bottle on the desk, the doctor sees the pain pills have been
replaced with regular aspirin.

The OxyContin thief who ripped off this dying woman and left her to suffer
. . . was her own daughter.

Greg Laham, owner of Sullivan's Drug in Roslindale says such tales have
become commonplace. "To a cancer patient in agony, addiction is a moot
point," Laham said. "OxyContin is very good at blunting pain.

"But if you're someone looking to get high," this pharmacist added, "then,
yes, OxyContin most certainly has the power to have you stealing from your
family, friends, or just about anyone else. It is the most insidious and
the most dangerous drug I have ever been around."

Six weeks ago, a thief broke into Sullivan's Drug and cleaned out Laham's
entire inventory of 1,300 OxyContin pills, worth $80 each on the street.
"People who rob banks don't walk away with that much money," he said. In
the aftermath of the robbery, Laham reviewed his entire "O.C." patient
file. What he discovered scared him.

Barely 20 percent of the customers who presented a prescription for the
synthetic opiate were afflicted with cancer. Among the rest was a heavy
presence of young white males seeking relief from a veritable outbreak of
"back pain."

"In terms of abuse," Laham said, "I've never seen anything remotely close
to what's happening now with OxyContin. In the space of the last two years,
this drug has gone from the 35th prescribed drug, according to the Medicaid
charts, to the 10th." And Greg Laham knows there just isn't that many
people withering in the kind of pain OxyContin was designed to relieve.

For Purdue Pharma, the company that makes OxyContin, these are golden days.
Whether the pills are prescribed, or stolen, demand is demand and supply is
supply. Ultimately, the bottom line prospers, whether it's over the
counter, or underground.

For the record, the board that oversees Sullivan's Drug, along with every
other pharmacy in the state, insists that stores must carry a supply of
OxyContin. But the reality, after an explosion of drug store holdups, is
more like don't ask, don't tell. "When a store stops carrying it," Laham
said, "you don't hear any great hue and cry out there. It's because there's
already a kind of network in place. People know where they can get it and
where they can't. So, they quickly make other arrangements. It's more than
amazing. It's frightening."

As more stores quietly choose to drop the drug from its shelves, Laham
envisions a rapidly approaching future of even more brazen attempts to
seize the drug.

"The street supply is gradually starting to dry up," he said, "and already
you're seeing people become even more desperate."

For the "O.C." frenzy to be brought under some control, Laham believes
several things must happen.

The feds have to clear the way for production of the so-called "smart
pill," one that will be immune to the tampering and modifications of street
addicts. Laham says we can't afford to wait three years for such a pill.

Doctors will have to exercise a much higher degree of scrutiny in writing
scripts for OxyContin.

Major health insurers and HMOs will finally have to get real about
financing longer stays in detox and rehab centers. Paying for three to
seven days is useless. Experts say it takes at least 90 days for the brain
to heal from OxyContin abuse - for the feeling of sobriety to overcome the
pull of addiction.

In the meantime, Greg Laham says he'll gladly settle for the sight of a
police car parked outside his store when he opens and when he closes.