HEROIN AND MY HOPE-COLORED GLASSES

Have I ever told you that an immediate family member of mine is a
former heroin user?

What? You didn't know this? I failed to bring it up before now, after
several years of writing columns? Hmmmm, I wonder why. Oh yeah,
that's right. Heroin is an illegal substance with a notorious social
stigma, and having a heroin junkie in the family isn't something you
casually note in the check-out line, or at family gatherings or at
the workplace water cooler.

Still, that's not what experts tell us these days.

They say heroin addiction is a disease, like cancer or polio or tuberculosis.

They say to look at it medically, not morally.

They say it's about chemicals and imbalances and contemporary
thinking, not John Lennon-like, cold turkey-caricatures from decades ago.

I'm trying hard to understand.

Oh, I know I should. I see the data. I view the studies. I understand
the brain-body connection. Heck, I've written stories on it.

But it's one thing to objectively view the highly scientific studies
from a desk -- behind the splash-guard of social apathy -- and
another thing to watch what heroin and a busload of other drugs can
do to a loved one and the family.

For example, have you ever watched a Brinks truck of cash disappear
into someone's body, only to still need more the next day, next
month, next year? I have.

Have you ever wondered where that money may have been spent otherwise? I have.

Have you ever harbored hope that this sort of addiction someday would
be slain, like some dragon, only to realize the invisible dragon is
seemingly invincible? I have.

Maybe I'm old-school, but I'm still having a hard time calling heroin
addiction a disease.

I know, call me a dinosaur. Say I'm self-righteous. Tell me I'm cruel
and heartless and I don't know how it feels ... blah, blah, blah. I know.

But this may be the crux of the issue in our region, which has become
polarized over these three words: Heroin. Addiction. Treatment.

Critics of heroin addiction say, "Suck it up. Just quit. Get a life."

Supporters reply, "Would you tell a diabetic to suck it up and get
over it, too?"

Here on the front lines we try to see heroin addiction through
hope-colored glasses.

And here I am with my beat-up pair, cracked long ago by too much use.