'MY PATH OF SELF-DESTRUCTION'

50,000 B.C. students have sat, rapt, as a blind, mute young man in a
wheelchair tells what drugs can do. Jade Bell hopes he's getting through

Jade Bell's life was changed forever by a heroin overdose in 1997. Blind,
paralyzed and unable to speak, he could have easily given up on life, but
after some soul searching he devoted his life to educating young people
about the dangers of drugs. For his perseverance, he has earned a Coast
Mental Health Foundation Courage to Come Back Award.

When Jade Bell is on stage before hundreds of students pleading with them
not to use drugs, it's difficult, but his reward is waiting.

He has been paralyzed, mute and blind since 1997, when he overdosed on
heroin. He was 22.

When he awoke from the coma his mind was perfect, but he was trapped in a
body that didn't work.

Bell has spoken to more than 50,000 B.C. young people, whose jaws drop when
they see him and hear his computer speak for him.

He taps out Morse Code with his head using two paddles by each of his ears.

"It's a mixed bag of feelings being on stage in front of 1,000 students,"
said Bell.

"It's like poking at open wounds, reliving my life story. It's even harder
to martyr myself as the king of my own consequence, as I struggle with my
switches and struggle with the fact I am unable to see the students'
expressions.

"But the reward, when it comes to an end, is triumphant. The thunder starts
with clapping, followed by a roar of hoots and hollering.

"This in my mind is a beautiful orchestra impossible to duplicate."

He's now 27, lives near Vancouver's English Bay and writes painfully honest
poetry in the middle of the night when he can't sleep, but drug prevention
is his life's work.

And from that work he wants "what everyone on the third planet from the sun
wants: Self-worth and self-accomplishment, for the kids to listen . . . and
purpose."

Bell's brain was without oxygen for 15 minutes before paramedics revived
him with Narcan, a drug that flushes heroin from receptors in the brain and
allows the victim to breathe again.

Bell woke up from the coma once, with all his faculties, but slipped back
into it.

When he woke up next time, it was with dystonia, a disorder that leaves him
with no control over his muscles. He takes medication to control severe
muscle spasms.

"With no visual stimulus and no activity in my life, you could imagine the
feeling of imprisonment within my own mind," he said.

"I can always count on music being there to set me free. The same applies
to my poetry."

An epic poem called "Vanished," written over a week in January, could be
autobiographical. It's about a "little boy blue" who gets addicted and took
chances because he felt immortal.

His drug prevention philosophy is to start the discussion and education early.

"I need to tell my story to 12-year-olds because that's where experimenting
begins, and it gets worse from there," he said.

He speaks regularly at the Youth Detention Centre and at
alternative-high-school programs because, he says, the audiences have
likely already experimented with drugs. He worries that by then it's too late.

"Prevention before damage control. They're in rehab and prisons because of
drugs," he said, "but I'm their last hope to make better life choices, and
I'm not afraid to speak anywhere where there is hope to reach one kid."

Bell began using drugs and alcohol early. At 15, he used crack cocaine and
by 21 it was heroin.

The night he overdosed he had got off work at a Vancouver restaurant at 2
a.m. and went to a friend's to play backgammon. There, alone in the
bathroom, he shot heroin. When he returned and sat at the table, he slumped
forward. His friend performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and called an
ambulance.

Bell spent two years in George Pearson Centre, a long-term care facility,
at a cost of $585 a night. After some time on a waiting list, he got into
the Health Ministry's continuing-care program.

Home care comes at less than half the cost of living at Pearson, and Bell
has privacy and isn't bound by hospital routine. He receives a disability
pension and 24-hour support and care.

"I'd like to thank continuing care for their support in keeping me out of a
hell away from home, the institutions I spent two years in," he said.

"By keeping me in the community, it has allowed me to reach over 50,000
students. I have one-on-one personal care from the best support staff I've
ever had."

A big barrier to Bell's speaking engagements is transportation. He would
love, but can't afford, a van, customized for his wheelchair, to go on
speaking tours.

When Bell's on stage hearing the applause, hoots and hollers, he's hoping
he got through.

"As the kids stand for me, the glory is theirs, for they don't need to walk
down the same path of self-destruction I chose," he said.

Jade Bell can be contacted at jadebell1772@shaw.ca.

- - The Coast Mental Health Foundation's Courage to Come Back Awards will be
presented at a gala dinner Thursday, May 9, at the Westin Bayshore Hotel
hosted by Olympic rower Silken Laumann and Global news anchor Deborra Hope.

For more information about the foundation's work, call (604) 872-3502 or
toll-free 1-877-602-6278 or check out its website at www.coastfoundation.com.