Burden of Pain: How the CDC and DEA Criminalized Medicine

(Jay K. Joshi, MD, is a primary care physician in Indiana who spent nearly a year in prison after pleading guilty to prescribing opioids without a “legitimate medical need” to an undercover DEA agent who was posing as a pain patient. Joshi now regrets that guilty plea and is trying to vacate his conviction due to alleged DEA misconduct.

While in prison, Joshi began writing “Burden of Pain: A Physician’s Journey through the Opioid Epidemic.” His book is a cautionary tale about misguided public health policy and overzealous law enforcement, which often portray doctors as drug dealers and patients as addicts.

PNN editor Pat Anson recently spoke with Joshi, who is practicing medicine again and hopes to regain his license to prescribe opioids. This interview has been edited for content and clarity.)

JAY K. JOSHI, MD

Anson: Dr. Joshi, who is your book intended for and what is the main message you're trying to send?

Joshi: The book really is for the general public and those that have a vested interest in helping to rectify misguided federal policy, as it pertains to not just the opioid epidemic, but the overdose crisis as a whole.

My main message is that we have to understand that healthcare has a lot of uncertainty and complexity. And if we just use simplified rubrics, like cookie cutter medical guidelines or restrictive laws, we're going to create unintended consequences. It's time that we start to re-examine clinical decisions and health policy as a whole, so that we can make better informed decisions.

Anson: Do you think the general public has a good understanding of the opioid crisis and what caused it? Or is there misinformation going around that they've bought into?

Joshi: I would say there's a strong degree of misrepresentation among policymakers, who should have known better before and certainly should know better now. I think the narrative of opioid prescriptions running amok and creating this overdose crisis is a story that’s taken on a life of its own.

Did prescription opioids contribute to the overdose crisis that we see now? Yes. Was it the main driving factor? No. But there were trends in drug use and drug policy through the 2000’s and 2010’s that falsely conflated prescription opioids with illicit opioids. Policymakers should now understand that there are fundamental differences in how opioids are abused versus how they're used in a proper clinical setting.

Anson: Given what's transpired over the last few years, with overdoses soaring from illicit fentanyl and opioid prescriptions declining, do you think policymakers now know better?

Joshi: You know, in life as a general rule of thumb, often you learn more about what a person doesn't say, than what they do say. And this kind of hollow resonance in connecting fentanyl overdoses to previous manifestations of the overdose crisis to me is a glaring omission of responsibility from federal policymakers at the CDC level and law enforcement at the DEA and state level.

They’ve failed to acknowledge that the current fentanyl crisis is a manifestation of restrictive and overly simplified opioid policies that began nearly a decade ago. And I think the fact that people are not correlating that when the data clearly shows it indicates there is a willful understanding and a willful intent to not accept responsibility for prior failures and opioid policies.

Anson: Do you think the CDC and the DEA made the fentanyl crisis worse?

Joshi: It's difficult to say because when you use the word “worse,” then you almost have to apply some sort of causality. I like to look at the overdose crisis a little differently.

Did the CDC with their opioid policy guidelines contribute to the trends and overdoses that we're seeing now? Yes. By not recognizing that the guidelines would be codified into law and policy, and deliberately affect clinical decision making. They're not taking accountability for all the damaging effects. So, by that logic, you can say the CDC made the opioid epidemic worse.

But I would instead reframe it to say the CDC needs to better educate itself. What you see from them is a conflation of words, reflecting a lack of proper understanding. That's how I would define the revised 2022 CDC opioid prescribing guideline.

They talk a lot about nuances. They talk a lot about “uncertainty,” although not using that word as much as I believe that they should. But then eventually they revert to the same policy trend of creating overly simplified stipulations using morphine milligram equivalents (MME) as this rubric of clinical care, even though it was never intended to be used as a clinical decision-making tool.

The CDC needs to be better aware of its own conflicts of interest in the leadership making policy decisions. We can go down line by line looking at these individuals and assessing their conflicts of interest. And I certainly have seen things that would be quite alarming for anybody who values scientific objectivity.

But I feel like when you go down that pathway, you're simply entrenching people in their own lease, meaning the CDC will simply double down and say,”No, what we're doing is right” and the DEA will simply double down and say,” No, what we're doing is right.”

Anson: Do you think the CDC should even have an opioid guideline?

Joshi: It is odd that a public health organization would get involved with something that has, for all intents and purposes, a direct patient to physician relevancy. It's hard for me to understand how the CDC initially thought that when the guidelines made it a public health issue. It was almost as if it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The CDC felt like prescription opioids were a public health issue, and therefore created guidelines that affected the patient-physician relationship, thereby creating undue stigmatization in a clinical encounter that should otherwise be based upon a foundation of trust and respect.

And by doing so, they almost exacerbated the overdose crisis into a public health issue. It's very difficult to understand why they felt like those guidelines would help, as opposed to focusing on keeping prescription opioids within the framework of the patient-physician encounter, as it already had been.

I guess they were looking at rising overdose rates and conflated illicit opioids, heroin and fentanyl with prescription opioids. I'm not sure where that direct line of logic really came from. It's difficult to really justify that.

Anson: And what about the DEA? As you very well know, a lot of doctors have stopped prescribing opioids or have really scaled back the doses that they give to patients, because they don't want to go to prison like you did.

Joshi: Definitely, and I can understand that. What's interesting is that I've had direct engagements with DEA officers, and from my perspective they lack the necessary understanding of prescription opioids and the benefit it provides patients. They lack the healthcare context.

What the DEA does is correlate the clinical encounter with what you would see in a routine drug transaction. In their eyes, having a hammer as the only tool, everything looks like a nail. So the drug dealer in Mexico running Chinese products through a drug cartel entering the United States is cognitively equivalent to a physician treating patients with chronic pain.

They don't have the ability to discern context and the role clinical need plays in how patients are treated. And I think that really does an injustice to both the patients and the physicians, because effectively the only tool the DEA has to address prescription opioid use is fear. And when you use fear in the clinical context, you’ve harmed the most vulnerable patients. It's a shame that the DEA is not acknowledging this.

I wrote an op/ed in Medpage Today about a month ago, in which I asked the DEA to take a stance on harm reduction. Many medical societies talk about how harm reduction is a better overall policy to help patients. But medical societies are not implementing the laws, the DEA is implementing the laws.

So regardless of how high-minded the policies may be, unless implementation of the policies aligns with intent, you're not going to have patients being treated the way that they should be. And I think what the DEA really needs to do is to assess its role in the clinical encounter and make honest determinations on whether they have the capabilities to understand clinical need for opioids as it pertains to patients with chronic pain or acute pain. I think the DEA is lacking in that capacity.

Anson: Is the DEA practicing medicine? They say they don't.

Joshi: I know. And I disagree. I would say that the DEA is very much involved in the practice of medicine. If you are influencing clinical decisions through fear, you are engaging in the practice of medicine.

What is clinical medicine? If you present to me with headache and vision changes, and I checked your vitals and see that you have extremely high blood pressure, I'm going to consider you as somebody in hypertensive crisis. I'm making that decision based upon the facts presented to me and then, based upon that decision, I will implement a certain form of treatment. Clinical medicine is a series of decisions made in the face of uncertainty.

Should I trust my blood pressure monitor that the readings are correct? Should I trust you when you say that you have a headache and vision changes? How much of that uncertainty is simply assumed to be true when any clinical decision is made?

Now, the moment you incorporate fear into that clinical decision making, you're influencing how the decisions are made and the eventual course of clinical action.  So very much the DEA is practicing medicine, and I would greatly appreciate if they were honest about that.

Anson: You've obviously given this a lot of thought and, at the same time, you don't sound that bitter about what happened to you. Why is that?

Joshi: You know, when I was in federal prison, I was extremely depressed. I lost my medical practice. I lost my freedom. But I always felt like, in the end, things would turn out right and the truth would come out. Whether that was a delusional belief sitting in a federal prison, I don't know. But I held onto that belief.

It's through that belief that I improved my writing abilities and hand wrote the first version of “Burden of Pain.” It’s through that belief that I regained my medical license and was reinstated as a Medicare provider.

I don't feel bitter because I feel that I have a responsibility to patients and to physicians who might be going through similar situations. And if I can behave in a certain way that is productive, that can turn what I went through into an overall good for patients and for society as a whole, then I’ll feel like what I went through was worth it.

“Burden of Pain” and other books are featured in PNN’s Suggested Reading section.

11 Myths About the Opioid Epidemic

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

If you’re a journalist, researcher or student interested in learning more about the opioid epidemic – or a patient or healthcare provider just trying to make sense of it -- a revealing new analysis debunks many of the myths and falsehoods being told about opioid pain medication.

“Misperceptions about the Opioid Epidemic: Exploring the Facts” was recently published in the journal Pain Management Nursing. Unlike most articles in medical journals, this one is not hidden behind a paywall – so the comprehensive and heavily footnoted research is available to everyone for free.

Co-authors Cathy Carlson, PhD, a professor at Northern Illinois School of Nursing, and June Oliver, APRN, a clinical nurse pain specialist at Swedish Covenant Hospital in Chicago, worked on the article for over four years, compiling research on 11 common myths about opioids that are repeated ad nauseam by the media, politicians, law enforcement and others.   

“We identified many more than this, but you have to put a limit on how long an article can be, so we narrowed them down to what we thought were the most important ones,” Carlson told PNN. “What concerned us is that this is all being presented by politicians and other important entities. It's just perpetuating the fear and sensationalizing it.”

Misperception #1 is the number of deaths attributed to opioid medication. The next time you see a statistic reported like “more than 63,600 people died of drug overdoses” in 2017, you should recognize that thousands of deaths were counted multiple times.  That’s because the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention doesn’t count “deaths” – it counts the number of drugs involved in overdose deaths.

The actual number of Americans who died from opioid overdoses in 2017 was not 63,000 – but about 49,000.

“If a person died of fentanyl, heroin and prescription opioids, that’s three deaths. We went from one person that actually died to three deaths counted in the categories because they put one under each,” explained Carlson. “It’s never known which drug they actually died from. So, we can never say prescription opioids caused the death. We can only say they were present at the time of death.”

Another myth is that more Americans die from opioid overdoses than in motor vehicle accidents, a claim first made by the National Safety Council (NSC) that’s been widely repeated in the media.  

“The opioid crisis in the United States has become so grim that Americans are now likelier to die of an overdose than in a vehicle crash,” The New York Times reported.

Carlson and Oliver say the NSC used a “confusing mismatch of statistical categories” to inflate the overdose numbers and make them more “attention grabbing.”

What are the actual facts? Nearly 30,000 Americans died in motor vehicle accidents in 2014, but the number of prescription opioid deaths was about half that.

“It doesn’t make as good of a story if you include it. We do believe it is purposely misleading,” says Carlson. “It’s the change theory. They have this need for change and they’re supplying it with statistics that sensationalize the issue.”

CDC’s Anti-Opioid Bias

Some of the other myths debunked by Carlson and Oliver include claims that the U.S. is the biggest consumer of opioids; that long-term use of opioid medication is not supported by evidence; that prescription opioids often lead to heroin use; and that statistics published by CDC are of high quality.

“We have a lot of issues with data collection. It’s not the CDC’s fault, they can only use what’s given to them. And states vary considerably in their accuracy in keeping statistics for overdose deaths,” Carlson said. “We’d like to see better data collection, especially through state and county medical examiners, so the statistics reported by the CDC are more accurate.”

But the CDC is not held blameless for the cascade of misinformation. Carlson says the agency has an anti-opioid bias that is repeated in many of its studies and policy statements.

“If you read what they do publish, they obviously have a viewpoint. It’s not a neutral viewpoint that gives you both good and bad. They are pushing you in a certain direction,” she said.

The CDC’s controversial 2016 opioid guideline – intended only for primary care physicians treating non-cancer pain – has been implemented as policy or law in dozens of states.

“I’m disappointed in what has occurred with CDC guidelines. Many people question the guidelines and that they weren’t always based on evidence,” Carlson said. “They were meant for primary care providers, not for pain management specialists, not for surgeons, and they’re making them apply to everyone. They are supposed to be guidelines. There are always people out on the Bell Curve and they don’t take that into consideration either.”

Carlson says Americans should be cautiously skeptical about much of the information they’re getting about the opioid crisis.  

“We’re mostly asking for discernment. To be aware of what you’re reading,” she said. “We want you to think about these statistics and look at the glaring gaps and reporting of statistics.”

U.S. Facing ‘Syndemic’ of Opioid Overdoses

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

The U.S. opioid crisis is a lot more complex than many people think. Instead of a single “epidemic” fueled by prescription opioids, researchers say there are three types of opioid epidemics occurring in different parts of the country simultaneously.

A team of researchers at Iowa State University studied death certificate data from all 3,079 counties in the lower 48 states and found distinct regional differences in the opioids that caused the most overdoses.

Cities in New England have been hit hard by illicit fentanyl and other synthetic opioids; the Rockies and Midwest are plagued by heroin; and a prescription opioid epidemic still lingers in many rural counties in the South and West.

A fourth epidemic – dubbed a “syndemic” by researchers – involves multiple drugs and exists in counties where the opioid crisis first erupted, particularly in mid-sized cities in Kentucky, Ohio and West Virginia. 

About 25 percent of all U.S. counties fall into one of these epidemic categories.   

“Our results show that it’s more helpful to think of the problem as several epidemics occurring at the same time rather than just one,” said co-author David Peters, PhD, an associate professor of sociology at Iowa State University. “And they occur in different regions of the country, so there’s no single policy response that’s going to address all of these epidemics. There needs to be multiple sets of policies to address these distinct challenges.”

LEADING CAUSE OF OPIOID OVERDOSES

Overdose deaths linked to prescription opioids peaked nationwide in 2013 and have fallen in recent years. But researchers say some counties with poor economies continue to struggle with prescription drugs. Over one-third of the counties in Tennessee, Oklahoma, Nevada and Utah fall into this category.

“We find that prescription-related epidemic counties, whether rural or urban, have been ‘left behind’ the rest of the nation. These communities are less populated and more remote, older and mostly white, have a history of drug abuse, and are former farm and factory communities that have been in decline since the 1990s. Overdoses in these places exemplify the ‘deaths of despair’ narrative,” researchers reported in the journal Rural Sociology.

“By contrast, heroin and opioid syndemic counties tend to be more urban, connected to interstates, ethnically diverse, and in general more economically secure. The urban opioid crisis follows the path of previous drug epidemics, affecting a disadvantaged subpopulation that has been left behind rather than the entire community.” 

The study found heroin overdose deaths clustered along two major corridors, one linking El Paso to Denver and another linking Texas and Chicago. Those findings correspond with known drug routes used by cartels smuggling heroin into the U.S. from Mexico.

The study only looked at death certificate data up to 2016, missing the full impact of the CDC opioid guideline, as well as the widening scope of the fentanyl and counterfeit drug crisis. As PNN has reported, hundreds of people have died on the west coast this year after ingesting counterfeit oxycodone laced with fentanyl.

“We are waiting to obtain the 2017 and 2018 data from CDC, but I expect the number of Rx opioid epidemic counties have transitioned to the synthetic+Rx epidemic and the opioid syndemic,” Peters told PNN in an email. “Fentanyl mixtures are replacing Rx pills and heroin in many places, mainly because fentanyl analogs are cheap to produce and generate more profits for drug traffickers.”

Given the expanding nature of the opioid crisis, Peters and his colleagues say tighter regulation of opioid prescribing and dispensing will have little effect on overdoses. The same is true for law enforcement efforts to stop drug traffickers and smuggling.

Instead they recommend expanding access to addiction treatment, as well as long-term investment in struggling communities to reduce both economic despair and the demand for drugs.  

Is My Life Worth Anything to Doctors and Politicians?

By Beth Sweet, Guest Columnist

I keep a journal and usually write about my symptoms and medical appointments. But today I vented and afterwards realized this might be something I should share.

I'm doing really bad with writing lately. It's just so hard to find the motivation to do anything. Between pain, exhaustion, migraines and IBS every day, I feel like crap! I'm so sick of feeling like this. I just want to feel like a normal human being again and not wake up every day realizing that isn't going to happen.

Lately I've been wondering if I even have fibromyalgia or if I was misdiagnosed. We have tried so many treatments for it and none of them work. I feel like a guinea pig half the time. Do doctors even know what they are doing?

I've tried over 19 medications and treatments. So far, the only thing that helps is what all the doctors say isn't recommended for fibro and that's oxycodone. I'm in my own body, know what I feel, and what works. But I'm too afraid to ask my doctor for a therapeutic dose instead of a bare minimum dose that only gets me a few hours of relief a day.

All because of this damned opioid epidemic!

They freak out about addicts overdosing on opioid medication, but addicts will find a fix even without prescriptions. What about chronic pain patients who are killing themselves because they can't get treatment for their pain?

I wish the politicians and lawmakers could suffer from chronic pain for a while and get treated like we are. I bet then the laws would change! I don't think they could survive it.

BETH SWEET

I'M SICK OF PAIN! Sick of crushing, aching, searing, cramping, stabbing, stiff, radiating, grinding, burning, tingling, constant pain. When I sit, stand, walk or lay in one position for too long. Headaches and migraines over half the month. PAIN ALL THE TIME!

But I can't ask a doctor for what I know works because everyone is in a panic about opioids. I am on the lowest possible dose. I get just enough for 4-6 hours of relief a day! God forbid I have a flare that makes it nearly impossible to move and lasts for days. It's not fair!

I want to go to church.

I want to go to my kids’ events

I want to be able to earn an income and be a functioning member of society

I want to not have my kids feel like they must take care of me. It's supposed to be the other way around!

I want to get well, but that's never going to happen. I must live with the fact that I am going to feel like crap on varying levels for the rest of my life.

Think about that. If someone told you that from this moment until the day you die you are going to be in pain, exhausted and unable to lead a normal life. That we don't know how to cure you or even if there is a cure. We aren't even sure what's wrong with you. We've tried everything and none of it has worked. Maybe it's all in your head.

How would that make you feel? Frustrated? Hopeless? Pissed? Sad?

And what if those same people who told you they don't fully understand your illness will not give you the one drug that gives you relief because "it's not an approved treatment for your diagnosis." They’ve already admitted knowing very little about it anyway!

What if they treated you like a drug addict because you asked for a medication that finally gives you some pain relief?  I have no problem getting medication for my thyroid, insulin resistance, anemia, IBS or any of my other health issues. But God forbid I ask for treatment for chronic pain.

I don't take those meds to get high. I don't even understand how people do, they don't affect me that way. I take them to get some of my life back. Is my life worth anything to these doctors and politicians?  I'm 38 and a hermit because of my pain and health issues. I've been sick for years and getting worse.  

I want to make something clear. I'm not going to kill myself. I have my family to live for. Even when my life feels worthless, I think of them. But not every chronic pain paint has that because this illness causes isolation and hopelessness. And no, we aren't in pain because we are depressed. We are depressed because we are in pain. There is a difference, so please stop giving us antidepressants to use as pain meds!

Stop ignoring chronic pain patients. Some are at the point where they can't take the pain anymore and the doctors that could save their lives are too concerned with the opioid epidemic to help!

I hope to find a doctor someday that thinks my life is worth living.

Beth Sweet lives in Michigan.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Social Media’s Role in the Opioid Epidemic

By Douglas and Karen Hughes, Guest Columnists

Drug epidemics since 1900 are dynamic and our hyper-information age makes ours even more pronounced. The so-called “opioid epidemic” is contingent upon socioeconomic demand and available drug supply. To fully understand it, we must look beyond opioid medication as the sole contributing factor.

Social media could be one cause that everyone has overlooked.

Overprescribing of opioids was initially the problem and it helped fill numerous medicine cabinets. Coincidentally, this occurred at about the same time as the explosion of cell phones, texting and social media, and the resultant peer-driven social narrative.

Instantaneous information exchange brought teenagers into contact with “high school druggies” — which their pre-cell phone parents knew only as a separate social group. Contact with them was taboo. Today, however, everyone is part of the larger social narrative.

Relating the euphoria of opioid use in open forums caused adolescents, who already feel indestructible, to rebel by trying them. These impressionable youth become attracted to opioids in the same way their parents were attracted to alcohol, tobacco and marijuana. This sent teens scrambling to find a free sample in grandmother’s medicine cabinet.

Many renowned physicians believe addictive personalities are actually formed by a genetic predisposition to addiction. All that is needed is some substance to abuse. Alcohol is usually the gateway drug for adolescents, the “first contact” for many teens. Forgotten opioids in a medicine cabinet only come later. Addicts will often say, “My drug use began with a prescription opioid.” But addiction experts know the battle was already lost if there was no intervention after “first contact” with drugs.

Society has long blamed overprescribing for the opioid epidemic, but the last three years have proven that to be a red herring. The mass closing of pill mills in 2015, the CDC opioid guideline in 2016, and the steep reduction in opioid production that followed in 2017 have only accelerated the epidemic. Forcing disabled intractable pain sufferers to suffer or self-medicate was not the solution.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention postulated that overprescribing caused the opioid epidemic because they only had clinical evidence for short term opioid therapy. Instead of opening a wider dialogue and seeking more evidence, the lack of critical long-term studies was used as an excuse to limit prescribing. Statistical manipulation of overdose deaths was used to confirm this errant policy.

This is emblematic of all investigations into our present drug problems. Society ran the fool’s errand that one blanket policy could be found for hundreds of diverse regional and local drug problems.

The opioid epidemic most likely emanated from widely accepted alcohol use and the social lure of opioids by adolescents. It has little to do with patients.

Douglas and Karen Hughes live in West Virginia. Doug is a disabled coal miner and retired environmental permit writer. Karen retired after 35 years as a high school science teacher.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

The Other Victims of the Opioid Epidemic

By Katie Burge, Guest Columnist

Imagine the fear, frustration, helplessness and anger you might feel upon learning that your doctor cannot treat you to the best of his or her ability because they’re afraid of being arrested. 

I don't have to imagine that because I am a chronic pain patient with a degenerative spinal condition, plus severe osteoarthritis and fibromyalgia; each of which cause severe chronic pain 24/7. Combined, they can make simple tasks like getting dressed in the morning sheer torture.

Pain patients are the other victims of the so-called opioid epidemic, the ones the media usually don’t mention unless they're blaming us for other people's drug usage. 

Patients are being forced to live in agony and, as a result, increasingly lose their lives due to catastrophic medical events, such as stroke, heart attack and even suicide.

These can all be triggered by the physical, mental and emotional pressures of trying to survive with inadequately treated chronic pain.

Why?  Because politicians and bureaucrats (who refuse to admit the government is completely impotent at controlling the proliferation of illicit drugs) have managed to sell the public on the ridiculous premise that refusing medically necessary medication to one group of people will somehow alter the behavior of another group, and handily end America's drug crisis.

This approach simply does not work. Torturing vulnerable pain patients by refusing them life-giving medication will never make the slightest dent in the illegal drug trade because, sadly, people who want to get high will find something somewhere that will enable them to do so. 

Also, most of the prescription opioids that people abuse DO NOT come from doctors or pain patients. Less than one percent of legally prescribed opioid medication is diverted.  People in true pain are not going to suffer additionally by sharing or selling their medication. And doctors are not as careless with their prescription pads as the powers-that-be would like you to think.  

Nonetheless, the entities that control doctors’ licenses to prescribe opioids have yielded to political pressure by ordering doctors to either cut back on pain medication to the point that it's ineffective or stop opioid treatment altogether, regardless of patient need or outcome.

Inadequately treated chronic pain has stolen a great deal of my independence and quality of life, and though I hate the idea of taking pain medication at all, my greatest desire is to simply be able to fully participate in my own life again.  I will never be pain free, but I long to be able to play with my grandchildren, go to the theater or sit through an entire movie (and still be able to walk back to my car).

The mainstream media is also responsible for the ridiculous narrative that opioids have no legitimate clinical use and are immediately addictive. The result of this bias and hyperbole is that most folks believe outlawing the legitimate medical use of opioids can only be a good thing. Society teaches us that pain is somehow shameful.  We must “suffer in silence” and learn to control our pain without complaint or medical intervention. 

With such an abundance of myth and misinformation, it's no small wonder that actual facts about pain tend to get lost in the mix. Please allow me to share a few:

First, many overdose deaths are made to sound as though they were caused by a single prescription or even a single dose of opioids, when they are actually the result of a mixture of different medications, street drugs and alcohol. 

Second, chronic pain affects more Americans than heart disease, cancer and diabetes combined.  And studies have repeatedly shown that less than 4% of those who take opioid medication for pain become addicted.  They might develop a dependence or tolerance, but that occurs with many medications.

Physical “dependence” simply means that, if a drug or substance is stopped abruptly, the body will react by exhibiting withdrawal symptoms.  “Tolerance” occurs over time, as the dosage of some drugs might need to be adjusted as the body grows tolerant to its effects. Neither of these conditions is unique to opioids, nor are they necessarily indicative of addiction -- which is characterized by compulsive drug seeking behavior and use, despite harmful consequences.

Personally, I believe the question of addiction simply comes down to motive.  If your primary motive in taking opioids is to get high, you might be a drug addict.  If your only motive is pain relief and once that relief is achieved you do not increase the dose, you are not a drug addict.

Drug abuse is a complex social issue that has no easy fixes.  It should not, however, be confused with the medical management of chronic pain.  All life is precious and should be valued and protected, but not at the expense of others.

So, the next time your favorite TV show has a story line about someone going to the hospital and being transformed into a raving drug addict, or you hear yet another biased news story about opioids, do something about it.  You can help save lives by contacting the source of those fallacies and insisting that they tell the whole truth about the opioid crisis. Call them. Write a letter. Send an email.

We desperately need your voice, your prayers, your empathy and your compassion.

Katie Burge lives in south Mississippi, which she calls a “a veritable wasteland” for pain treatment. 

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Lessons from Dreamland About the Opioid Crisis

By Roger Chriss, Columnist

The book Dreamland: The True Tale of America's Opiate Epidemic by Sam Quinones has become a playbook for many lawmakers, regulators and journalists covering the opioid crisis. It is an award-winning book from 2015 that describes the rise of Mexican “black tar” heroin, pill mills and opioid addiction starting in the 1980’s.

It is not a book about persistent pain disorders or the people who endure them using opioid medications.

Quinones interviews heroin couriers and addicts, as well as prescription opioid addicts. He describes heroin smuggling, heroin distribution networks, prescription opioid diversion, carefully crafted medical opioid scams, and misleading marketing by opioid manufacturers. But chronic pain patients do not appear in Dreamland at all.

Early in the book, Quinones brings up a 1980 research letter in The New England Journal of Medicine and the work of Russell Portnoy, both of which are alleged to have contributed to opioid overprescribing. But the overprescribing does not involve people with chronic pain disorders. Instead, Quinones explains that “in the Rust Belt, another kind of pain had emerged. Waves of people sought disability as a way to survive as jobs departed.”

And overprescribing did not necessarily mean over-consumption. As Quinones states, “Seniors realized they could subsidize their retirement by selling their prescription Oxys to younger folks. Some of the first Oxy dealers, in fact, were seniors who saw the value of the pills in their cabinets.”

Such opportunities were not ignored. More conventional drug dealers moved in and unscrupulous physicians opened drug-dealing clinics that we now call pill mills.

Quinones explains how to recognize a pill mill: “I asked a detective, seasoned by investigations into many of these clinics, to describe the difference between a pill mill and a legitimate pain clinic. Look at the parking lot, he said. If you see lines of people standing around outside, smoking, people getting pizza delivered, fistfights, and traffic jams—if you see people in pajamas who don’t care what they look like in public, that’s a pill mill.”

The importance of pill mills to the opioid crisis cannot be understated.

“It helps that OxyContin came in 40 and 80 mg pills, and generic oxycodone came in 10, 15, 20, and 30 mg doses—different denominations for ease of use as currency. The pill mills acted as the central banks, controlling the ‘money supply,’ which they kept constant and plentiful, and thus resisted inflationary or deflationary spikes,” wrote Quinones.

Dreamland goes on to explain that in rural Appalachian communities an underground economy arose with prescription opioids as currency, supported by scamming Medicaid and Social Security disability. Some addicts funded their habit by shoplifting at stores like Walmart and paying dealers for opioid pills with their stolen goods. Other addicts worked with dealers to scam Medicaid to pay for opioids from pill mills or to get opioids from legitimate clinics using forged medical records.

Opioid addiction was also driven by high school and college sports. Quinones explains that “after the games, some of the trainers pulled out a large jar and handed out oxycodone and hydrocodone pills - as many as a dozen to each player. Later in the week, a doctor would write players prescriptions for opiate painkillers, and send student aides to the pharmacy to fill them.”

Thus, the opioid crisis is a tragic result of a confluence of forces, including heroin sold under a business model virtually impervious to traditional law enforcement techniques and legal opioid pills used illicitly. As Quinones explains at the end of the book, “One way to view what happened was as some enormous social experiment to see how many Americans had the propensity for addiction.”

None of this involves medical opioids being used for pain management in people with chronic, progressive, or degenerative disorders. Quinones frequently mentions “chronic pain” but never defines the term precisely. However, his examples consistently refer to ongoing pain from a workplace accident, sports injury or accidental trauma -- not the persistent pain of a medical disorder. He does not interview pain management specialists or chronic pain patients because that is not the point of the book.

However, he does acknowledge the opioid crisis is having an unintended effect on people with persistent pain disorders. Quoting Quinones, “Patients who truly needed low-dose opiate treatment for their pain were having difficulty finding anyone to prescribe it.”

That is the lesson that Dreamland offers but too few people are learning. The opioid crisis is a dire manifestation of a larger problem of substance abuse. It is not about people with chronic pain disorders becoming addicted to opioids and then turning to heroin, an outcome that is exceedingly rare.

If we don’t understand what this book offers, we risk making the same mistakes that many lawmakers, regulators and journalists keep making. We’ll misunderstand the true nature of the opioid crisis and mismanage the response. And that will harm both opioid addicts and chronic pain patients, two groups that have already suffered enough.

Roger Chriss lives with Ehlers Danlos syndrome and is a proud member of the Ehlers-Danlos Society.

Roger is a technical consultant in Washington state, where he specializes in mathematics and research.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Chronic Pain Patients Did Not Cause Opioid Epidemic

By Roger Chriss, Columnist

Contrary to common belief, chronic pain patients are not all opioid addicts and did not cause the opioid crisis. The vast majority of patients who are prescribed opioids rarely misuse or abuse them.

Opioid addiction is real and should not be ignored or downplayed, but we need to identify its true causes. Despite the growing number of restrictions on prescription opioids, overdoses and related deaths continue to rise, which strongly indicates that pain patients have very little to do with the so-called epidemic.

Some recent articles bear this out:

Science Daily reports that while the national death toll from opioid overdoses is soaring, only “a small minority of pain patients are represented in the mortality data.”

The journal Pain Medicine published research showing that most pain patients on low doses of short-acting opioids “have a low risk for developing a substance use disorder.”

Similarly, chronic pain patients generally do not experience dose escalation, but often remain stable at the same dose for months or even years. And according to the National Institute of Drug Abuse, doctor shopping by pain patients is rare.

For most chronic pain patients, opioid medications are part of a larger daily routine of pain management, and opioids are not craved any more than an athlete craves a vitamin supplement. Thus, the risks of opioid addiction among chronic pain patients is quite low overall, and there are well-established protocols such as the Opioid Risk Tool to screen patients and monitor those whose risk may be higher.

But all this evidence does not seem to convince regulators, politicians, the news media, and anti-opioid activists like Physicians for Responsible Opioid Prescribing (PROP). Fortunately, it can be clearly shown they are wrong and that chronic pain patients are unfortunate bystanders in the opioid epidemic.

First, there simply are not enough chronic pain patients on opioid therapy to account for the number of opioid and heroin addicts. The American Society of Addiction Medicine estimates that in 2016 there were over 2.5 million people addicted to prescription pain relievers or heroin.

There are at most 11.5 million chronic pain patients on opioid therapy. Even if 5 percent of them develop a substance abuse disorder, that would give us 575,000 opioid addicts. Where did the other 2 million addicts come from?

Second, people who suffer from chronic pain disorders are no longer prescribed opioids lightly or quickly. Instead, they start with NSAIDs like ibuprofen or naproxen, then onto anti-seizure medications like gabapentin or anti-depressants like amitriptyline or duloxetine, all the while also trying physical therapy, injections or other modalities. They are carefully screened, monitored and assessed along the way, with opioids considered only if everything else fails. This makes addiction a rare outcome.

Third, media coverage of the opioid epidemic and case literature on opioid use disorder routinely describe people becoming addicted to opioids after recreational use, trauma or surgery. It may be that “opioid addiction often starts with a prescription,” but it is usually a prescription for acute pain. And for many, the addiction starts with someone else’s prescription, perhaps taken from a family member or obtained from a friend.

Therefore, the treatment of chronic pain conditions can at most have only minimally contributed to the opioid epidemic. Chronic pain patients are not opioid addicts any more than a diabetic is an insulin addict, and in fact insulin is abused.

Unfortunately, chronic pain patients are often treated like addicts and the doctors who prescribe to them are even called “drug dealers.” This is harming chronic pain patients, doctors and people suffering from opioid addiction.

Opioid therapy helps people with chronic pain disorders remain employed, care for themselves and their families, and contribute to and participate in their communities. They are achieving what modern medicine and society wants: people who can work, pay taxes, avoid becoming a burden, and enjoy some quality of life.

Restricting opioids is not slowing the opioid epidemic. The increased availability of naloxone and improved care by first responders and emergency departments is helping to reduce fatalities, but opioid addiction still needs treatment and at present there is not enough of it.

To be clear, chronic pain patients and opioid addicts are two distinct groups, both of which deserve care and support. Treating pain patients as addicts can lead to denial of care, which may actually increase the number of opioid addicts. And conflating chronic pain with opioid addiction may be delaying care for people struggling to find addiction treatment.

Roger Chriss lives with Ehlers Danlos syndrome and is a proud member of the Ehlers-Danlos Society.

Roger is a technical consultant in Washington state, where he specializes in mathematics and research.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.