‘Tranq dope’ exacerbates plight on Alberta streets, aid workers say

Troy Bevans and Lauren Cameron know better than anyone about the realities of drug use – they’ve seen it from both sides.

And as the two street workers headed for their shift in downtown Calgary one recent afternoon, they said it had never been this bad or this dangerous.

“Tranq dope” takes its toll, they say.

“It’s really scary out there,” says Cameron, a former “chaotic” drug user who tries to help people living on the streets.

The numbers confirm it.

The number of opioid-related deaths in Alberta reached 179 in April, the highest number since the province began collecting data in 2016, according to the provincial government. substance use monitoring system. The figures were updated on Monday.

Weekly EMS responses to opioid-related emergencies have also increased in frequency this year.

The weeks of June 5 and June 12 were the third and fourth highest ever, with 261 and 250 responses, respectively.

Bevans and Cameron are members of the Calgary chapter of AAWEAR, which stands for the Alberta Alliance Who Educates and Advocates Responsibly.

Before they leave, they fill their backpacks with new meth pipes and straight shooters – mainly used for crack cocaine – along with basic necessities such as hygiene kits, clothing and water.

What quickly becomes clear is that there is more to this than cold, hard statistics. Real-world influences play out on the streets of downtown Calgary every day.

‘If you can do it, I can’

Street outreach – face-to-face work with people living on the streets – is challenging and emotional. The workers hear stories, such as a man living on the street who says he has had five deaths in the past week and a half.

On this afternoon, flanked by a new grocery store and the Central Library in the East Village, Bevans and Cameron approach a group of people gathered at the bottom of a parkade. For outreach, they often stick to two people in a group, so as not to overwhelm people.

They introduce themselves and ask which harm reduction items are needed. Bevans recognizes a woman who is having a hard time.

One of her friends recently died of an overdose and Bevans gives her a hug.

“Troy, we’ve come a long way and I feel like if you can do it, so can I,” the woman said.

“Of course you can,” Bevans said.

“But it’s really hard,” the woman said.

In addition to the equipment, Bevans and Cameron also brought their personal experience.

Bevans lived on the streets for over 20 years and struggled with addiction. He remembers the moment when things changed.

“One day I thought about my mother and that she would come to my funeral,” he said. “That’s where my change started.”

On August 1, Bevans will be free of chaotic drug use for 13 years. He still remembers what it was like on the street – people walking by and pretending not to see him.

Cameron used to live in Vancouver, where she was a chaotic heroin user. Ten years ago she bought the drugs from people on the street.

“It was a lot safer 10 years ago. I wouldn’t be living now if I were doing that now,” she said.

Things have become more complicated in recent months.

Animal tranquilizer in opioids

An increasing number of jurisdictions in North America are monitoring the spread of adulterants – including benzodiazepines and xylazine, a tranquilizer for animals – being added to opioids such as fentanyl and heroin. The U.S. Office of National Drug Control Policy has designated xylazine as a “emerging threat” in April.

Xylazine is not approved for human use but has been found in opioids such as fentanyl. Not all people who use drugs necessarily want these drugs. But having an addiction means they may be the only one they can get at the time, which may seem preferable to being “dopesick,” Bevans said.

Dopesick is a colloquial term that refers to the intense withdrawal symptoms a person can experience when stopping opioids – physical symptoms such as vomiting and seizures, and psychological symptoms such as depression and paranoia.

Users who come into contact with the sedative can go into a blackout state and develop painful wounds or “rotting flesh”, sometimes requiring amputation.

“The xylazine causes, like, these horrible wounds in people. Their skin peels off,” Cameron said. “And it’s every week…there are people with these…it seems like their skin is falling off their bodies.”

To make matters worse, the effects of xylazine are not reversible by naloxone, the life-saving drug that reverses an overdose.

“People are vulnerable. They get passed out on the street and they’re taken advantage of. Often they get raped or robbed. They’re just in such a precarious situation, and so vulnerable,” Cameron said. “It is scary.”

EMS calls are approaching peak levels

Bevans and Cameron head north. Soon they meet two young men and Cameron offers to show them a drug test kit.

“You put a little bit in there. A few grains of salt, right?’ she said.

Of course, drug testing is of greater importance given the toxicity currently being measured. Bevans and Cameron have seen more people fall into the street unconscious, bent over, sometimes causing the pair to give rescue breaths – something that doesn’t always work due to how toxic the supply is at the moment.

They also increasingly call EMS these days to resuscitate people on the street.

While EMS calls are currently close to peak levels, provincial mortality data will only be posted until April 2023.

A spokesman for the county’s mental health and addiction department said data on deaths are posted after they are received by the chief medical examiner’s office, which generally takes about two months.

However, according to Elaine Hyshka, an associate professor and Canada Research Chair in health systems innovation at the University of Alberta School of Public Health, EMS data closely tracks mortality data.

“It is clear that there are highly toxic drugs in circulation right now that are causing a recent spike in overdoses that are causing deaths. But exactly what substance or chemical is causing that spike is still an open question,” Hyshka said.

“If we were serious about this issue, we would have public health officials come in regularly, at least monthly, to tell us what’s circulating, how it affects people, and how people can protect themselves.”

Hunter Baril, a spokesman for the county, said the number of EMS responses at this time is “something we are watching closely and demonstrates the importance of addressing the addiction crisis.”

“As it has for the past four years, the Alberta government will continue to ensure that people in crisis receive the help and support they need,” Baril said.

Back on the street, Bevans and Cameron continue their shift. People come from a variety of backgrounds, but Indigenous people are disproportionately affected, in Cameron’s experience.

“[Due to] intergenerational trauma, due to colonial damage, not enough cultural support and services,” she said. “It’s really sad to see that.”

It is clear to Bevans and Cameron that everyone can find themselves here, and everyone here is someone’s son, someone’s mother, someone’s brother or sister.

Near the end of their shift, a man approaches the couple, saying he recently stayed at the Drop-In Center.

The man says he used to be in the Navy but fell on hard times. However, he says he once made $90,000 a year.

The night before, he said he saw a young man overdose near the Central Library, and by the time the ambulance arrived, he was gone.

“He was in great distress,” said the man. “It’s hard to watch a man die.”