I’ve always appreciated the “Elephant in The Kitchen” metaphor for dysfunction. Many of us have a resident pachyderm. We just choose to acknowledge it for the sake of harmony and compromise. Still, elephants like drug abuse can turn rogue and tear apart entire families, even communities. It can even damage a nation’s economy. The U.S. has spent 500 billion dollars on its War On Drugs with precious little to show for it. Fingers point in all directions but this new “epidemic” should have some of us curling our finger back at ourselves because the supply feeding this new social monster isn’t coming from seedy pushers in alleyways, it is hanging out in our own medicine cabinets.

An example. A day or so after one of her parties, my daughter came down with an ear infection. She went to take a pill but her perfectly legal painkiller bottle was empty. A friend, a visitor who had enjoyed her food, her wine, her good company, had helped themselves to her pills. The culprit had left the empty bottle for an easy refill and more pills for the next party, maybe? My daughter’s first reaction was, first, “What kind of friend would do that?” Fast on the heels of that painful question came the next lightning bolt; “I have to hide or lock up my medicine.” I even had a personal scare when my doctor informed me that taking medication prescribed for another person (muscle relaxers for back spasms) was “a federal offense.” Gulp.

In a Fresno Bee story about the prescription drug epidemic, a high school footballer who had hurt his knee but found relief among his mother’s painkiller stash. He also found a habit so insidious that he wound up in rehab. To his credit, he was eager to speak to the media so he could warn others about this potential drug danger in the home. It is bad enough to take medicine not meant for you personally, he warned, but those in pain, be that mental or physical, sometimes mistake pill size with potency. Vicodin is a large white pill while Percocet, and other heavy narcotics, come in tiny pills. This is for good reason; they carry a much heavier clout and are not meant for casual aches and pains. The best bet is to not take the chance and stay away from medication prescribed for other people and other reasons.

There is a reason that my relatives back in the South call Oxcontin “Hillbilly Heroin.”

The Sheriff’s Office was very informative when I called about this new wrinkle in the age old fight against inappropriate drug use. Well aware of the potential for misuse, the Sheriff’s office, as part of a national program controlled by the Office of Diversion Control of the Department of Justice, participates in the Drop The Drugs campaign at least twice a year. The goal is simple; educate people about the dangers of leaving prescription drugs out in the open and to offer citizens a confidential way to dispose of their outdated prescriptions. They counsel against flushing meds or depositing them in the landfill; neither are good for the environment. Funded by the DEA, The Drop The Drugs campaign, which accumulated and destroyed about 200 pounds of potent medicine at their last local collection, uses special incinerators with filters designed to keep the toxic fumes out of the atmosphere. The sites do not, however, have the capacity to accept needles or sharp objects at this time.

October 26th is the tentative date for the next Drop The Drugs collection. Three sites have been designated; Feeney Field in Murphys, a TBA site in Angels Camp, the Toyon Middle School between San Andreas and Valley Springs. The drop-off sites will be open from 10 AM to 2 PM and no questions will be asked. Please think about collecting all those old pills and using this safe, sane way to get them out of the system. Look for the Save The Date alerts in future Enterprise issues. Radio and local news will also give the events some play. For more information you can visit the www.DEADiversion.usdoj.gov website.

Jerry Tuck is a retired San Andreas resident and an indie author. Contact him at olwhofan@aol.com or use the Contact Form.