Latest news with #MontyGhosh
Yahoo
10 hours ago
- Health
- Yahoo
Bankers, athletes, students are using drugs. This hotline tries to keep them safe
There's a national overdose hotline that some Canadians call before they're about to use drugs. But the people dialling in aren't who you might think. Since the National Overdose Response Service (NORS) launched nearly five years ago, it's been reaching drug users who wouldn't typically use consumption and treatment sites. Shame and stigma can force people to use drugs alone, putting them at a greater risk of dying from an overdose. "We do know that a lot of people are hidden substance users," said Monty Ghosh, an addictions physician in Alberta and a NORS researcher. "It could be that they're afraid of losing their job, they're afraid that the family might leave them, they're afraid that the children might get taken away from them." Ghosh says that's where the hotline comes in. He says many people calling in have voluntarily disclosed that they have jobs and stable housing. "We're talking [about] people who are lawyers, physicians, engineers, people who are professional athletes," he said. "A lot of them are using the service because they don't identify as the same population as who uses a physical supervised consumption site." NORS is like a buddy system — operators stay on the line as people use drugs, ready to alert emergency services if they suspect the person has overdosed. People can also text the line, if they can't or don't want to call. To see who is reaching out and how the hotline works, CBC News met up with an operator in Hamilton, Ont., and listened in on multiple calls. WATCH | NORS operator provides advice while callers take drugs: The operator, Jodi, starts any call by confirming the person's address, telling them to keep their doors unlocked and pets away. These are all precautions in case EMS has to respond. One of the calls was from a student who was about to use crack. "I heard that there was a bad batch going around in my area and I was just wondering if you knew anything about it?" the person asked Jodi. LISTEN | Caller worries about 'bad batch' of drugs in area: A quick online search for alerts about tainted substances in the caller's region turned up empty, so Jodi cautioned, "Start low, go slow." Another caller, who was smoking fentanyl, told Jodi she's trying to use less frequently. When she does, she's started testing her drugs to stay safe. "Keep doing that," Jodi told her. "Just the stuff that's going around right now, it's actually really scary." LISTEN | Caller smokes fentanyl on the line: Once people use, Jodi stays on the line with them for about 10 to 15 minutes. She makes small talk — asking what they ate for dinner and what their plans are for the evening — all the while paying attention to how they're responding. "We're not therapists, we're not counsellors, we're not social workers," Jodi told CBC News. "We're not here to dig deep [into] why they started using drugs. It's just, 'Hey, how's it going today?'" No one overdosed the night CBC was on the line with Jodi, but it has happened. Of the almost 20,000 calls NORS has received, it's responded to more than 200 overdoses. According to the organization, nobody has died while using the line. In comparison, between March 2020 and February 2025, drug consumption and treatment sites across Canada received more than three million visits. "Our mandate at NORS is to keep people alive while they're using substances," said Lisa Morris-Miller, the executive director of the hotline. Her sister, Rebecca Morris-Miller, founded the line in December 2020, with the help of her friend Kim Ritchie. The pair had complicated pasts with drug use and met during a recovery program. With a cellphone, $1,000 and some volunteers, Ritchie says they started an early version of the hotline. By the end of 2020, she says partnerships with the University of Alberta and Health Canada led to funding that launched the line across the country. NORS is the first and only national overdose response hotline in Canada. For two years, Rebecca helped grow the service and became an advocate for people who were struggling. But throughout, she continued to struggle with her own addiction to fentanyl. In October 2022, Rebecca used drugs alone and didn't call her own hotline — and ended up dying from an overdose. "My opinion … is that there is still so much stigma associated with substance use, so much that … one of the key founders of this organization wouldn't call her own line," said Lisa Morris-Miller. Most NORS callers are from Ontario, Alberta, B.C. and Saskatchewan, according to researcher Ghosh. The most recent data from the hotline shows that of more than 3,200 calls, about 50 per cent were women and 16 per cent identified as gender diverse. In interviews, Ghosh said these callers told them that they prefer the hotline because of stigma and safety. While the organization hasn't released research on this, Ghosh says about 10 per cent of their calls have asked about referrals for mental health, opioid treatments or treatment centres. Ian Tait, communications director for the Ambulance Paramedics of British Columbia CUPE 873, says he isn't surprised to hear who is using the service. "In British Columbia … we go to million-dollar mansions for, you know, issues with substance use," said Tait, who is also an advanced care paramedic supervisor. He said that most of the overdose calls they respond to are for people who are unhoused, with mental health and substance use issues. Tait cited an app called Lifeguard, which he says people in B.C. will often use. Those with the app will activate it before taking their drug of choice and they then have to deactivate it within a certain period of time. If they don't, EMS will be alerted. "In this type of crisis, we have to look at ideas that are outside of the box," he said. Faith O'Toole, a 22-year-old Ottawa resident, has been revived multiple times because of the hotline. Having used crack and fentanyl since she was a teenager, O'Toole has lost count of how often she's overdosed. Her mom, Tamara, allowed Faith to keep living at home and using drugs, but insisted she call the hotline. "Of course I don't want my child to use drugs — nobody does. But if they're going to and I can't make her stop, what can I do to help keep her as safe as possible?" said Tamara. She estimates Faith has overdosed at least three times while using NORS. "Overdosing sucks, but the hotline is really useful," said Faith. "It's convenient. I mean, if you have a phone … you can call and you're safe." But Faith no longer lives at home and says she doesn't call the hotline as often. Despite how helpful virtual resources like hotlines and apps can be in this crisis, experts say they can't replace controversial drug consumption and treatment sites. The hotline fills some gaps — like being available around the clock and allowing people to smoke their drugs (which many drug sites don't allow) — but it's not accessible to everyone. For example, some people might not have a cellphone, says Caleb Clay, administrative manager for a mobile overdose prevention site at Sunshine House in Winnipeg. "I think that physical and virtual options can work hand in hand," he said. "I don't think physical sites will ever go away." Ghosh says these sites are essential, specifically because they're often used by people who are experiencing homelessness, and can provide them with a range of support. For example, they connect people to the local mental health care system, help bandage wounds or offer drug test strips and clean needles. But drug consumption sites have historically faced a lot of backlash. Most recently in Ontario, the provincial government shut down several facilities under new legislation and said it doesn't plan on approving any more sites. Right now, NORS has 20 employees across the country and is fully funded by Health Canada until 2028. NORS operator Jodi says people who call in just want to protect themselves, without judgment. She gets it, because she was once addicted to drugs, too. "It's kind of embarrassing," one caller told Jodi the evening CBC listened in. "What's embarrassing?" Jodi asked. "You know — you don't want to tell your family, but you don't want to be alone," they said. "Well, we're always frickin' here for you," Jodi said. "Nothing to be embarrassed [about] here."
CBC
10 hours ago
- Health
- CBC
Bankers, athletes, students are using drugs. This hotline tries to keep them safe
There's a national overdose hotline that some Canadians call before they're about to use drugs. But the people dialling in aren't who you might think. Since the National Overdose Response Service (NORS) launched nearly five years ago, it's been reaching drug users who wouldn't typically use consumption and treatment sites. "We do know that a lot of people are hidden substance users," said Monty Ghosh, an addictions physician in Alberta and a NORS researcher. "It could be that they're afraid of losing their job, they're afraid that the family might leave them, they're afraid that the children might get taken away from them." Ghosh says that's where the hotline comes in. He says many people calling in have voluntarily disclosed that they have jobs and stable housing. "We're talking [about] people who are lawyers, physicians, engineers, people who are professional athletes," he said. "A lot of them are using the service because they don't identify as the same population as who uses a physical supervised consumption site." How does NORS work? NORS is like a buddy system — operators stay on the line as people use drugs, ready to alert emergency services if they suspect the person has overdosed. People can also text the line, if they can't or don't want to call. To see who is reaching out and how the hotline works, CBC News met up with an operator in Hamilton, Ont., and listened in on multiple calls. WATCH | NORS operator provides advice while callers take drugs: Canada has a hotline for people who hide their drug use 20 days ago Duration 9:17 An anonymous hotline has fielded over 20,000 calls from people across Canada who want support when using drugs alone, and as CBC's Jennifer La Grassa uncovers, the callers who rely on the National Overdose Response Service (NORS) are not who you might think they are. The operator, Jodi, starts any call by confirming the person's address, telling them to keep their doors unlocked and pets away. These are all precautions in case EMS has to respond. One of the calls was from a student who was about to use crack. "I heard that there was a bad batch going around in my area and I was just wondering if you knew anything about it?" the person asked Jodi. A quick online search for alerts about tainted substances in the caller's region turned up empty, so Jodi cautioned, "Start low, go slow." Another caller, who was smoking fentanyl, told Jodi she's trying to use less frequently. When she does, she's started testing her drugs to stay safe. "Keep doing that," Jodi told her. "Just the stuff that's going around right now, it's actually really scary." Once people use, Jodi stays on the line with them for about 10 to 15 minutes. She makes small talk — asking what they ate for dinner and what their plans are for the evening — all the while paying attention to how they're responding. "We're not therapists, we're not counsellors, we're not social workers," Jodi told CBC News. "We're not here to dig deep [into] why they started using drugs. It's just, 'Hey, how's it going today?'" No one overdosed the night CBC was on the line with Jodi, but it has happened. Of the almost 20,000 calls NORS has received, it's responded to more than 200 overdoses. According to the organization, nobody has died while using the line. In comparison, between March 2020 and February 2025, drug consumption and treatment sites across Canada received more than three million visits. Goal is to 'keep people alive' "Our mandate at NORS is to keep people alive while they're using substances," said Lisa Morris-Miller, the executive director of the hotline. Her sister, Rebecca Morris-Miller, founded the line in December 2020, with the help of her friend Kim Ritchie. The pair had complicated pasts with drug use and met during a recovery program. With a cellphone, $1,000 and some volunteers, Ritchie says they started an early version of the hotline. By the end of 2020, she says partnerships with the University of Alberta and Health Canada led to funding that launched the line across the country. NORS is the first and only national overdose response hotline in Canada. For two years, Rebecca helped grow the service and became an advocate for people who were struggling. But throughout, she continued to struggle with her own addiction to fentanyl. In October 2022, Rebecca used drugs alone and didn't call her own hotline — and ended up dying from an overdose. "My opinion … is that there is still so much stigma associated with substance use, so much that … one of the key founders of this organization wouldn't call her own line," said Lisa Morris-Miller. Lawyers, bankers, athletes calling in Most NORS callers are from Ontario, Alberta, B.C. and Saskatchewan, according to researcher Ghosh. The most recent data from the hotline shows that of more than 3,200 calls, about 50 per cent were women and 16 per cent identified as gender diverse. In interviews, Ghosh said these callers told them that they prefer the hotline because of stigma and safety. While the organization hasn't released research on this, Ghosh says about 10 per cent of their calls have asked about referrals for mental health, opioid treatments or treatment centres. Ian Tait, communications director for the Ambulance Paramedics of British Columbia CUPE 873, says he isn't surprised to hear who is using the service. "In British Columbia … we go to million-dollar mansions for, you know, issues with substance use," said Tait, who is also an advanced care paramedic supervisor. He said that most of the overdose calls they respond to are for people who are unhoused, with mental health and substance use issues. Tait cited an app called Lifeguard, which he says people in B.C. will often use. Those with the app will activate it before taking their drug of choice and they then have to deactivate it within a certain period of time. If they don't, EMS will be alerted. "In this type of crisis, we have to look at ideas that are outside of the box," he said. Faith O'Toole, a 22-year-old Ottawa resident, has been revived multiple times because of the hotline. Having used crack and fentanyl since she was a teenager, O'Toole has lost count of how often she's overdosed. Her mom, Tamara, allowed Faith to keep living at home and using drugs, but insisted she call the hotline. "Of course I don't want my child to use drugs — nobody does. But if they're going to and I can't make her stop, what can I do to help keep her as safe as possible?" said Tamara. She estimates Faith has overdosed at least three times while using NORS. "Overdosing sucks, but the hotline is really useful," said Faith. "It's convenient. I mean, if you have a phone … you can call and you're safe." But Faith no longer lives at home and says she doesn't call the hotline as often. Hotline can't replace drug consumption sites: experts Despite how helpful virtual resources like hotlines and apps can be in this crisis, experts say they can't replace controversial drug consumption and treatment sites. The hotline fills some gaps — like being available around the clock and allowing people to smoke their drugs (which many drug sites don't allow) — but it's not accessible to everyone. For example, some people might not have a cellphone, says Caleb Clay, administrative manager for a mobile overdose prevention site at Sunshine House in Winnipeg. "I think that physical and virtual options can work hand in hand," he said. "I don't think physical sites will ever go away." Ghosh says these sites are essential, specifically because they're often used by people who are experiencing homelessness, and can provide them with a range of support. For example, they connect people to the local mental health care system, help bandage wounds or offer drug test strips and clean needles. But drug consumption sites have historically faced a lot of backlash. Most recently in Ontario, the provincial government shut down several facilities under new legislation and said it doesn't plan on approving any more sites. Right now, NORS has 20 employees across the country and is fully funded by Health Canada until 2028. NORS operator Jodi says people who call in just want to protect themselves, without judgment. She gets it, because she was once addicted to drugs, too. "It's kind of embarrassing," one caller told Jodi the evening CBC listened in. "What's embarrassing?" Jodi asked. "You know — you don't want to tell your family, but you don't want to be alone," they said.
Calgary Herald
24-04-2025
- Health
- Calgary Herald
Alberta sees lowest opioid deaths since 2019, but varying drug supplies across municipalities remain top concern
Alberta had the lowest opioid-related deaths in 2024 since pre-pandemic times, but experts warn it will be difficult to say whether or not the numbers will continue to trend downwards, given the toxic drug supply and ongoing response. Article content Article content According to the latest data, in 2024, Alberta recorded 1,182 opioid-related deaths, a significant drop from the 1,873 deaths in 2023 — a record-breaking year for the province. While the decrease in deaths is significant, Edmonton has remained the top city, with nearly double the number of opioid deaths compared to Calgary. Article content Article content Monty Ghosh, an associate professor at the University of Alberta and an addictions physician, said that throughout 2024, Alberta, like the rest of Canada, has seen a significant decrease in opioid deaths. Article content Article content 'It's definitely positive,' Ghosh said. 'But in all likelihood, there (are) a multitude of effects that are causing this to happen. It would be very difficult to pinpoint exactly what is causing this drop in deaths.' Article content Changes to drug toxicity, which vary significantly across jurisdictions, may or may not be stabilizing, which could be contributing to the downward trend, according to Ghosh. He said another potential factor is 'morality saturation,' where people who are most susceptible to death have died, and there is no longer any movement that can happen. Article content Ghosh added that regardless of the party, provinces and territories across Canada have invested significantly in the mental health and addiction sector compared to previous years, which has added to the diverse supports available to Canadians. Article content Article content Safe consumption sites needed Article content Article content Emergency Medical Services (EMS) responded to 6,381 opioid-related calls in 2024, nearly a 40 per cent decrease from 2023. Edmonton made up over half of those calls with 3,544. Article content More people may be using substances in public or with other people around, which could allow for EMS to be called, or someone there could help the individual if they were to overdose, Ghosh said. Article content Anecdotally, Ghosh says he's heard of people smoking substances outside of safe consumption sites, so if something happens, someone will be there to respond to them. He said there needs to be safe consumption sites, and without them, he worries the province may see a spike in overdoses. Article content 'My worry is that if they don't continue to support these services, we'll see a spike in overdoses but also a decrease in people wanting and seeking recovery,' Ghosh said. Article content 'These are great access points to recovery, which is not being fully patented or utilized.'
