News (Media Awareness Project) - US CA: Drug clinic seeking a home |
Title: | US CA: Drug clinic seeking a home |
Published On: | 2000-02-21 |
Source: | San Jose Mercury News (CA) |
Fetched On: | 2008-09-05 02:56:48 |
DRUG CLINIC SEEKING A HOME
Methadone: Professional Treatment Inc. opened in 1972 and serves 330 people.
San Mateo County's only methadone clinic is losing its home of 28
years, throwing former heroin addicts into an uncertain future and its
directors into a frustrating search for a new location.
In one of the nation's tightest real estate markets, a methadone
clinic -- with its attendant stigma and scarce resources -- has a
tough job wooing landlords. The county's commercial vacancy rates are
between 1 and 2 percent, and more desirable renters pose daunting
competition.
Redwood City's Professional Treatment Inc., which opened in 1972,
serves 330 people, from high-powered executives to the homeless. But
late last year, Cupertino-based developer Hunter/Storm purchased the
Arguello Street property where the unassuming beige clinic sits.
Developers are seeking approval to build a five-story office building
and underground garage. The project is dubbed ``Redwood City
Technology Station'' and typifies the city's shift from an aging
suburb to a high-tech hub.
Caught in the middle are the former addicts who rely on quick sips of
cherry-flavored methadone to maintain their lives, jobs and families.
The clinic has until July to move, but has no promising leads for a
new location.
Patients are confused and anxious.
``We don't know where they're going, and how many buses it will take
to get there,'' said Mary Phillips, who swapped heroin for methadone
in May and now volunteers to help other drug addicts avoid contracting
AIDS and hepatitis C.
The clinic, located near the railroad tracks in downtown Redwood City,
is tucked between the county jail and a bustling shopping center.
Aside from a steady stream of people who quietly enter and exit
between 6:30 a.m. and 1 p.m., it could be any other single-family
home. No congregating is permitted outside the building, and most
clients stay less than five minutes.
Patients include stockbrokers, law students, construction workers and
the unemployed. Some pay as much as $300 a month for treatment; others
use Medi-Cal and disability payments. Many fear the clinic won't find
a new home. Others worry it will move too far away for them to
continue the often daily, pre-dawn visits they need to make it through
the day. The nearest methadone clinics are in San Jose and San Francisco.
Vital to mothers
``What would we do if they closed down?'' said Pam Kremer, a Redwood
City mother of two who has used the clinic for 10 years but is weaning
herself, milligram by milligram. ``It's kind of scary.''
Although heroin ravaged almost half her life, Kremer said regular
access to methadone allowed her to change. She now holds down a steady
job as a needle exchange worker and cares for her 15-year-old son.
``Now I can feel like everybody else,'' she said. ``It's a good thing.
It's safe, and it has kept me from contracting AIDS.''
Clinic staffers say if a new location isn't found nearby, many will
return to using street drugs.
``If their treatment is terminated, everyone realizes what the
consequences would be,'' said Bill Edelman, whose non-profit agency
runs the clinic. ``Many of our clients would lose their jobs. It would
be an incredible family disruption for hundreds and hundreds of people
and potentially for the entire community if people revert back to
narcotics and criminal behavior to support their habits.''
Phillips lives on a fixed income and walks to the Redwood City clinic.
The addition of bus or train fare would throw her budget -- and her
treatment program -- into jeopardy.
``It would cut the speed, the pace of my detox,'' she said, describing
how her life has improved since she began taking methadone in May. ``I
don't wake up sick every day.''
No space to be found
Administrators have been searching for a new site for months, so far
receiving rejections from the Veterans Affairs facility in Menlo Park
and East Palo Alto's Drew Health Foundation. County officials have
been unable to find a government building that would be appropriate,
said Supervisor Rich Gordon.
The clinic, which receives county, state and federal funds, needs a
site that is easily accessible to public transportation and won't
exceed the current $3,000 monthly rent by much. Moving costs are
estimated at $200,000, almost half the clinic's annual budget.
In addition to the financial concerns, counselors say the prospect of
change is extremely unsettling for addicts. In Redwood City, notices
on the clinic's walls alert patients to the ongoing real estate
struggle. Many have been aware of the uncertain future since December.
``The lack of a methadone clinic in the county would be intolerable,''
said Joey Tranchina, a Peninsula needle exchange activist. ``It would
be the equivalent of shutting down all the insulin for the diabetics
in the county.''
Gordon, who at one time directed a homeless youth shelter next door to
the clinic, said none of his colleagues want to see it shut down
permanently. Gordon also said he would consider committing one-time
county funds to help the facility relocate if necessary. The clinic
has operated relatively trouble-free at the downtown site and is
considered a clean and responsible neighbor.
While they search for a new building, Edelman and his staff and are
assuring clients they will not be abandoned. ``It's one of those
challenges in life I cannot and will not give up on,'' he said. ``I
believe we will ultimately find a place to be.''
Methadone: Professional Treatment Inc. opened in 1972 and serves 330 people.
San Mateo County's only methadone clinic is losing its home of 28
years, throwing former heroin addicts into an uncertain future and its
directors into a frustrating search for a new location.
In one of the nation's tightest real estate markets, a methadone
clinic -- with its attendant stigma and scarce resources -- has a
tough job wooing landlords. The county's commercial vacancy rates are
between 1 and 2 percent, and more desirable renters pose daunting
competition.
Redwood City's Professional Treatment Inc., which opened in 1972,
serves 330 people, from high-powered executives to the homeless. But
late last year, Cupertino-based developer Hunter/Storm purchased the
Arguello Street property where the unassuming beige clinic sits.
Developers are seeking approval to build a five-story office building
and underground garage. The project is dubbed ``Redwood City
Technology Station'' and typifies the city's shift from an aging
suburb to a high-tech hub.
Caught in the middle are the former addicts who rely on quick sips of
cherry-flavored methadone to maintain their lives, jobs and families.
The clinic has until July to move, but has no promising leads for a
new location.
Patients are confused and anxious.
``We don't know where they're going, and how many buses it will take
to get there,'' said Mary Phillips, who swapped heroin for methadone
in May and now volunteers to help other drug addicts avoid contracting
AIDS and hepatitis C.
The clinic, located near the railroad tracks in downtown Redwood City,
is tucked between the county jail and a bustling shopping center.
Aside from a steady stream of people who quietly enter and exit
between 6:30 a.m. and 1 p.m., it could be any other single-family
home. No congregating is permitted outside the building, and most
clients stay less than five minutes.
Patients include stockbrokers, law students, construction workers and
the unemployed. Some pay as much as $300 a month for treatment; others
use Medi-Cal and disability payments. Many fear the clinic won't find
a new home. Others worry it will move too far away for them to
continue the often daily, pre-dawn visits they need to make it through
the day. The nearest methadone clinics are in San Jose and San Francisco.
Vital to mothers
``What would we do if they closed down?'' said Pam Kremer, a Redwood
City mother of two who has used the clinic for 10 years but is weaning
herself, milligram by milligram. ``It's kind of scary.''
Although heroin ravaged almost half her life, Kremer said regular
access to methadone allowed her to change. She now holds down a steady
job as a needle exchange worker and cares for her 15-year-old son.
``Now I can feel like everybody else,'' she said. ``It's a good thing.
It's safe, and it has kept me from contracting AIDS.''
Clinic staffers say if a new location isn't found nearby, many will
return to using street drugs.
``If their treatment is terminated, everyone realizes what the
consequences would be,'' said Bill Edelman, whose non-profit agency
runs the clinic. ``Many of our clients would lose their jobs. It would
be an incredible family disruption for hundreds and hundreds of people
and potentially for the entire community if people revert back to
narcotics and criminal behavior to support their habits.''
Phillips lives on a fixed income and walks to the Redwood City clinic.
The addition of bus or train fare would throw her budget -- and her
treatment program -- into jeopardy.
``It would cut the speed, the pace of my detox,'' she said, describing
how her life has improved since she began taking methadone in May. ``I
don't wake up sick every day.''
No space to be found
Administrators have been searching for a new site for months, so far
receiving rejections from the Veterans Affairs facility in Menlo Park
and East Palo Alto's Drew Health Foundation. County officials have
been unable to find a government building that would be appropriate,
said Supervisor Rich Gordon.
The clinic, which receives county, state and federal funds, needs a
site that is easily accessible to public transportation and won't
exceed the current $3,000 monthly rent by much. Moving costs are
estimated at $200,000, almost half the clinic's annual budget.
In addition to the financial concerns, counselors say the prospect of
change is extremely unsettling for addicts. In Redwood City, notices
on the clinic's walls alert patients to the ongoing real estate
struggle. Many have been aware of the uncertain future since December.
``The lack of a methadone clinic in the county would be intolerable,''
said Joey Tranchina, a Peninsula needle exchange activist. ``It would
be the equivalent of shutting down all the insulin for the diabetics
in the county.''
Gordon, who at one time directed a homeless youth shelter next door to
the clinic, said none of his colleagues want to see it shut down
permanently. Gordon also said he would consider committing one-time
county funds to help the facility relocate if necessary. The clinic
has operated relatively trouble-free at the downtown site and is
considered a clean and responsible neighbor.
While they search for a new building, Edelman and his staff and are
assuring clients they will not be abandoned. ``It's one of those
challenges in life I cannot and will not give up on,'' he said. ``I
believe we will ultimately find a place to be.''
Member Comments |
No member comments available...