How to Check Out a Charity Before You Donate

By Stefanie Lee Berardi, Guest Columnist

Many of us have been following PNN’s reporting on the misuse of donated funds by the former CEO of the U.S. Pain Foundation. Paul Gileno allegedly misappropriated about $2 million for his own personal use from the non-profit from 2015 to 2017.

The acting CEO and chair of U.S. Pain’s board of directors has admitted that a lack of financial oversight enabled Gileno to commit his misdeeds. Nicole Hemmenway says the board has instituted “a robust system of checks and balances” to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

As the story continues to unfold, U.S. Pain has attempted to refocus the public’s view of this fraudulent activity by claiming that 2018 was “its most successful year of programs and services,” while also indicating that additional financial irregularities may be reported on its 2018 tax return.

Arguably, their claim of success does not comport with the facts and does not enumerate the numerous failings of the board and senior staff that enabled the fraud to continue for years. Until there is full disclosure of what happened and people are held accountable, the public cannot be sure that U.S. Pain’s resources are being utilized effectively going forward.

Choosing to support a non-profit organization is an investment. And those of us who give our limited time and money to a charity must protect that investment by learning all that we can about what the organization does, what senior staff they employ, where they get their money and how they spend it.

It is not always easy to find reliable information about a non-profit, but if you know where to look, a short online search can give you a wealth of information. Here are some tips that donors and volunteers may want to explore.

Search Their Website

Consider an organization’s website as the front door to its operations and core mission. A disease-related organization’s mission, for example, might be to provide support for those affected, education about the disease, and research to find a cure.

An organization must be accountable and transparent to its investors. Their website should provide an annual report of its accomplishments from the previous year and goals for the next. You will need to review several annual reports to evaluate if the organization is making progress on the previous years’ goals.

Look at Their Tax Returns

Examine the organization’s tax returns to learn about how they operate, where they get their funding, and what proportion of their money is spent on programs that actually help people versus overhead costs like administration, salaries and fundraising.

There are a few exceptions, but most non-profit organizations’ tax returns are public information, meaning anyone can inspect them. When you compare two or three years of the organization’s tax returns, you can get a sense of the organization’s financial stability over time.

I find ProPublica to be the easiest place to find these documents. You can also search an IRS database to see if an organization’s tax-exempt status is in good standing. If a non-profit misses a tax return filing deadline, as was the case with U.S. Pain, that could be a sign of trouble.

Identify Their Funding Sources

In order for a non-profit to remain financially healthy and compliant with IRS regulations, it must seek funding from different types of revenue streams, such as grants and corporate or individual donations. For example, an organization may accept donations from pharmaceutical companies or charge membership dues or fees to attend their events.

Investors need to know where the organization gets its money. If the organization is growing and thriving, you will see a steady increase in the money they bring in (revenue); the money they spend (expenses) will remain proportional to their revenue; and their bottom line (net assets) will remain stable from year to year.

Learn Where They Are Spending Their Money

There are well-established benchmarks for how much of a non-profit’s budget should be spent on programs versus administration and fundraising. Organizations should be spending at least 75% of their revenue on programs that raise awareness or directly benefit a cause and less than 25% of their revenue on overhead.

As a reference, Charity Navigator publishes an annual report on CEO pay that finds mid-sized non-profits pay their CEO’s in the low $100,000’s. And the Better Business Bureau’s accountability standards indicate that fundraising expenses should not exceed 10 to 25 cents of every dollar raised.

As an investor, we want to see these figures as low as possible and to ensure they are aligned with organizations of similar size and type.

Engage with a Non-Profit at All Levels

If an organization is worthy of receiving your financial support, it should also be worthy of receiving your time and talent. Volunteering for the organization is an important way for you to increase the value of your investment. Most non-profits depend on volunteers to help them run programs, raise funds and promote awareness.

When you find the right organization, consider pledging a monthly, rather than a one-time annual donation. Large foundations that offer grants to non-profits want to see repeat donations because it is an indication of a healthy, growing organization that is capable of using their grant money effectively. Staying involved with an organization helps ensure your investment is used to its fullest potential.

There is simply too little time and money to waste on an organization that lacks oversight and is not using its resources effectively. Many of us have made donations to organizations simply because they asked and believed they were doing good things. In the future, we must raise that benchmark.

When nonprofit organizations solicit for financial support, they are in a position of public trust. That money is not theirs to misuse and they should be held accountable if they lose that trust.

Each of us has the responsibility to learn everything we can about an organization before we offer our time, talent and money. We must advocate for each other and contribute to the body of knowledge about the organizations that we support. 

Stefanie Lee Berardi worked as an advancement and communications professional, grant writer and principal investigator of several multi-agency grant programs at Illinois State University. She has a graduate degree specializing in the management and administration of non-profit organizations.

Stefanie is an avid volunteer in her local community and has volunteered for organizations supporting individuals with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, a disease she developed in 2008.

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.

Climbing Mountains Together

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

Just about every time I'm in the bathtub, I contemplate slipping my head under water for a tad bit too long.  I do not consider myself suicidal, nor do I really want to die in the literal sense. But sometimes I reach a point when I'd do almost anything to kill this pain.   

Current situation: At least 30 cluster headache attacks thus far this week. Constant migraine going strong for about two weeks. Ongoing fibromyalgia flares. Working to pass kidney stones induced by stress and dehydration. Nausea, dizziness, fatigue and exhaustion have latched onto my soul like draining parasites. None of my go-to treatments have eased any of the discomfort.   

Despite my own battles, I consistently make myself available to others in the thick of their own private storms. The world needs more light and I can always use a distraction from my own body self-destructing. Win/win.  

Recently I did what I could to talk a loved one off the ledge. This person is also unwell but in a very different way. Their infliction is not physical, but boils down to their own personal choices.  

You might imagine the frustration I feel when surrounded by others who could save themselves from drowning simply by standing up.

All the while, I've been standing strong for years but consistently get swept away by overwhelming undercurrents that are entirely out of my control. 

It can be difficult to encourage others to live when you're barely hanging onto a shred of hope for yourself. But I consider myself honored for the opportunity to try.  

I cannot keep track of how many times I've had to “die" in a figurative sense so that I could grieve the losses of countless aspirations, ideas, goals and dreams.  I've always been known as a positive person and that's most definitely who I am.  It is not an act, but people tend to think it’s easy for me and they couldn't be more wrong. 

It takes absolutely everything I have to lay my head down at night, knowing I'll awaken to the same demons I spent the previous day slaying. And that it'll likely remain this way, forever.  

My positivity began out of necessity and is a method of survival. Relentless pain every single day for 20 years straight is enough for anyone to question their sanity or possibly even lose it. As a matter of fact, we're currently mourning the medically assisted suicide of a fellow Pain Warrior, who endured similar pain for the same amount of time.   

I felt the need to write this so that others do not think they are crazy. Under our circumstances, it's understandable we might fantasize about no longer feeling this way. The mantras, positive quotes and clichés can only get us so far, and it can be downright devastating to not have adequate support, acknowledgment, validation or pain relief.  

I also had to write this because I want to convey that you are all the main reason why I still hold on. Knowing there's a community of others who truly get it, provides me with a purpose and reason to get myself out of bed in the morning.

It has become my mission to demonstrate that these mountains of misfortune aren't meant to be carried, but they can be climbed. They might even be moved if we all work together.   

No one can give us quality of life or the will to live outside of ourselves, but we can lean on one another during our deepest and darkest moments of despair. It's okay to have bad days, to be in a negative headspace, to question the purpose of all this, to feel angry, hurt or sad.  

As I envision the water calming my ailments and swirling its way down the drain, I think about the possibility of someone reading this at a time they needed it most. That thought gives me the strength I need. 

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headaches and fibromyalgia. Mia is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook support group, and Peace & Love Enterprises, a wellness coaching practice focused on holistic health.

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.

National Safety Council's Misleading Report on Opioids

By Roger Chriss, PNN Columnist

This week the National Safety Council released a report claiming that “for the first time on record, your odds of dying from an accidental opioid overdose are greater than dying in a motor vehicle crash.”

Media outlets from The New York Times to NPR were quick to repeat that claim.

“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 Times reported.

This is incorrect. The average American is vastly more likely to die in a car crash than of an opioid overdose. The reason is simple: the typical American does not have any opioids to overdose on.

Good practice in epidemiology and public health research is to look at the “population at risk.” This population represents those people who would be counted if they are affected by whatever risk is being studied.

The population at risk for opioid overdose consists of people exposed to opioids, intentionally or otherwise. Within this population are people with varying degrees of risk, from low-risk in the form of a single dose of opioid medication in a hospital to high-risk in the form of heroin injection.

By contrast, the population at risk for car crash death is people who are exposed to car rides, whether as drivers or passengers. Needless to say, this is a very broad population that includes most Americans.

These two populations are not the same. There is some overlap between the two, but that does not mean they can be lumped together for the purpose of a generalized conclusion. Instead, epidemiological investigations look at a target population, that is to say the group of people about which conclusions will be drawn.

Again, these are distinct populations. The target population for reducing car crash fatalities is not the same as the target population for reducing opioid overdose fatalities.

As a result, a general comparison between the odds of dying of an opioid overdose versus a car crash is not statistically meaningful. Moreover, such comparisons misconstrue risk management and may lead to poor allocation of resources.

For instance, in 2017 there were 2,008 fatal overdoses with Benadryl and 1,250 with tramadol, according to the CDC. But this does not mean that Benadryl is more dangerous than tramadol. Far more people use Benadryl than tramadol, and usually without a prescription or monitoring. Ranking one as inherently more dangerous than the other would not lead to good public health policy.

Further, the risk of opioid overdose rises when people use other substances like alcohol, benzodiazepines or cocaine. Similarly, the risk of fatal car crashes rises when driving under the influence or other risky driving behaviors are involved. Because most people do not do these things, they are at the low end of the range of risk in the population at risk.

State laws like California’s AB 2760 requiring naloxone co-prescribing may help reduce opioid overdoses, but only if they reach people at greater risk. And resources committed to people at low risk may be taking resources away from people at high risk.

So although the National Safety Council’s report may be technically accurate, it is flawed and misleading. Most people are much more likely to die in a car crash because they are exposed to that risk on a regular basis. Only a small number of people are more likely to die of an opioid overdose, and risk reduction strategies need to be directed to them.

The NSC is a nonprofit that promotes itself as a "data-driven organization," but this is not the first time it has provided misleading information about opioids.  As PNN has reported, an NSC memorial to opioid victims that toured the country last year overestimated the number of Americans who overdosed on prescription opioids by about 25 percent.

Good public health policy involves assessing the relative risks for the population at risk and adopting effective harm reduction policies. Sweeping statements that confuse a population at risk with the population at large can only lead to bad policies. And we’ve seen enough of those.  

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.

Limiting Rx Opioids Is Making Opioid Epidemic Worse

By David Hanscom, MD, PNN Columnist

I am an orthopedic spine surgeon who specializes in complex problems in all areas of the spinal column.

Over the last five years, a significant percent of my practice has been addressing spine infections, most of them in patients addicted to intravenous drugs. Bacteria can enter the blood stream from a contaminated needle and lodge in the discs between the vertebrae, which have a limited blood supply. It’s an ideal environment for bacterial growth and it destroys the neighboring discs and vertebra. Often they weaken to the point where they break.

Corrective surgery entails draining the infection and then stabilizing the broken spine with a fusion. These operations are complex, expensive and risky. After surgery there is a minimum of six weeks of IV antibiotics.  Occasionally, a patient ends up paralyzed because the infection cuts off the blood supply to the spinal cord.

One typical case was that of middle-aged carpenter with low back pain, who had been able to work for years by taking a stable low dose of opioid medication. He needed to keep working, so when the local pain clinic shut down, he felt he had no other choice but to use IV heroin. His spine became infected and the infection spread deeply into his pelvis. I met him in the hospital when he was extremely ill, and it took three operations to drain and stabilize his spine.

My experience from this and other cases tells me the opioid epidemic is rapidly getting worse. In addition to the medical problems created from IV drug abuse, there were nearly 49,000 overdose deaths from opioids – both legal and illegal -- in 2017. Unfortunately, there doesn’t appear to be a viable solution in sight. In fact, current efforts to reduce opioid prescribing are exacerbating the problem. Although I agree with more careful prescribing practices, it isn’t the answer to the epidemic.

This CDC graphic tells why. As deaths from prescription opioids leveled off over the past several years, mortality from heroin and synthetic opioids like illicit fentanyl have spiked higher. Although the medical system is decreasing the supply of prescription opioids, it’s pushing people to these illicit sources.  

Chronic Pain and Anxiety

Nearly 90 percent of patients on opioids have chronic pain, while the rest mostly suffer from acute pain. But the mental pain is a far greater problem than the physical pain. Any physical or mental threat causes your body to secrete stress hormones, such as cortisol, adrenaline and histamines to improve your chances of survival.

The sensation created by these chemicals is anxiety. Humans have a major problem when they can’t escape from negative thoughts. Anxiety triggers a sustained chemical assault that we will try almost anything to escape from. This unconscious and automatic survival response is over a million times stronger than the conscious brain.

Research has documented that when you are upset for any reason, your pain will increase. It isn’t psychological or “all in your head.” There’s a direct linkage between pain circuits and stress. You will experience an increased speed of nerve conduction from stress chemicals, causing your pain levels to increase.

Many Treatments Don’t Work

Another problem is that modern medicine isn’t providing viable solutions to chronic pain. A recent survey found that only about 1% of physicians enjoy and are comfortable treating chronic pain.

Modern medicine is only pretending to treat your pain. You go to the doctor trusting him or her to help you and you’re repeatedly disappointed. As your frustration grows, your stress hormones remain elevated and your pain physically worsens.

Even worse, many “mainstream” interventions such as surgery have been demonstrated to be ineffective and often cause harm, while effective treatments are not readily available because they are not covered by insurance. A significant percent of a medical system’s revenue is driven by these expensive and risky interventions.

Instead of exploring ways to implement effective treatments for pain, the government and medical establishment are focusing their efforts on restricting access to pain medications -- with most of the focus being on the providers. Physicians are now afraid to prescribe long-term opioids, even though most of us have had patients thrive on a stable opioid regimen.

This is the worst step that could be taken because patients immediately experience increased anxiety, frustration and eventually anger when they are cutoff or have their doses reduced.

What can we do to solve the opioid epidemic?

First, solve chronic pain! Recent medical research has revealed possible solutions but mainstream medicine isn’t implementing them.

Second, recognize that what drives most people to use opioids is mental pain. Physical pain is often secondary.

Third, environmental factors, especially family dynamics may be exacerbating chronic pain. Allow physicians to take the time to listen to patients and focus on their real problems, rather than just randomly treat their symptoms.

Finally, since the problem is so pervasive, the answers must be widely available and implemented by anyone. 

Dr. David Hanscom is a spinal surgeon who has helped hundreds of back pain sufferers by teaching them how to calm their central nervous systems without the use of drugs or surgery.

In his book Back in Control, Hanscom shares the latest developments in neuroscience research and his own personal history with pain.

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.

Defining Your Story As a Patient Advocate

By Barby Ingle, PNN Columnist

Almost a year ago, I covered the topic of motivational speaking as a patient advocate for the pain community. A lot of the information I shared dealt with how to plan and organize for advocacy, but the messaging you use is equally important. It must be specific to the audience you’re trying to reach.

I have learned that honing and defining my story is an important aspect of being an advocate. I used to spew it all out and see what sticks, but have learned over the years that when I concentrate on a few key points specific to my audience I will be a more effective communicator.

For instance, when I spoke at a rare disease event, I focused on how rare conditions have impacted me and how more rare disease research and funding are needed. At a cancer event, I spoke about my experiences with cancer and the missing support I see in that area.

There is no specific way to advocate, but there are some basic guidelines that can help get you started. The first step is finding your own voice. You want to have your own message and share your own personal story. You don’t want to copy or act like someone else. I have told newbies, “Don’t try to be me. You be you, and I’ll be me.”

When honing your message, start with deciding what you want to talk about. Sometimes it is important to go wide and broad when talking about chronic pain, but other times it’s important to discuss your most pressing experiences with a specific disease or challenge.

There are thousands of issues that need working on in the chronic pain world, from access to medication to finding a compassionate doctor. Defining the issue that’s important to you is key. You must be able to explain your point of view and back it up with data and science that is relevant and recent.

Keep it simple. Think of 2 or 3 takeaways for your audience. What should the listener walk away knowing when you are done?  In many cases, such as testifying at a legislative hearing, you’re only going to get 2 or 3 minutes to speak. Respect the time limit and practice beforehand so that you can explain and emphasize your takeaways. Leave a few moments for follow up questions.

Remember, you are not sharing your message to prove someone else is wrong or to undermine them. You are there to share your story and the challenges that affect your daily living. I do a lot of reality television, and producers always remind me to only talk about what I want to bring attention to. If I talk about someone else’s message, it takes away from my own. Tell them who you are, how you are affected by a policy, and what can be done to solve it.  

Your personal story should be about you and what you have gone through. If you’re a caregiver whose spouse was put through step therapy and had delays in getting proper medication, how did that affect you?  What did that delay in care do to you? Why do you care about this cause? Let the audience know why you care.

Next, give them the takeaways. There should always be “an ask.”  What do you want your audience to do for you?  A state legislator may be voting on a specific bill that you want them to support or vote against. Or tell your audience how they can help spread awareness and advocacy.

Keeping the requested action positive is important and keeps it moving in society. You could ask other patients to discuss an issue with their friends or to be sure to vote. You can ask for just about anything, but be as specific as possible. If you are asking for others to make a change or believe in something you advocate, then you must show some expertise on the topic.

Understand that some words are trigger words that should be avoided. Instead of talking about how hard it is to get “opioids” or “narcotics,” say patients need better access to “pain medication.” They are all descriptors of the same thing, but have very different meanings and connotations.

It takes a lot of courage to share health topics and challenges we’ve been through. Many advocates, including myself, are ridiculed and shamed. PNN had a great column on this last month, “Stop Shaming Pain” by Mia Maysack. As Mia explained, you may encounter negativity even within our own pain community.

Your story should take others on the journey you’ve been on. Think about how you want your audience to feel and what your end goal for them will be. Being yourself, being vulnerable, and sharing your story are powerful ways to engage the public and create change.

Barby Ingle lives with reflex sympathetic dystrophy (RSD), migralepsy and endometriosis. Barby is a chronic pain educator, patient advocate, and president of the International Pain Foundation. She is also a motivational speaker and best-selling author on pain topics. More information about Barby can be found at her website. 

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 7 Golden Rules of Opioid Prescribing for Patients

By Jeffrey Grolig, MD, JD, Guest Columnist  

“Don’t do it!” is the advice often given to brand new physicians about whether to specialize in pain medicine. Increasing numbers of doctors are being fined, disciplined or arrested due to scrutiny caused by the nation’s opioid crisis. Every single opioid prescription, even the mildest painkiller, is being tracked, and prescription drug database searches tell the DEA and state board investigators who to watch.  

The unfortunate innocent victims of this crisis have been those legitimate patients who suffer in chronic pain, with up to 100 million in the United States alone. Each time a physician or pharmacy is attacked, thousands of pain patients must pay the price.

A pharmacy in my northern California town recently closed after the owner was charged with 200 counts of failing to properly keep records. Each count carries a $20,000 fine.

A local physician’s license was restricted for failure to warn in writing about the risks of combining sleeping pills with opioids. This family physician had already spent $56,000 in legal fees for previous documentation lapses.

A pulmonary specialist with English as his second language was arrested for prescribing codeine-containing cough syrup to four undercover DEA agents posing as patients. He is facing 20 years in prison and $2 million in fines.   

I still accept pain patients, but my background as an attorney compels me to use “universal precautions,” something I advise every physician who prescribes opioids to do. This boils down to following what I call “The 7 Golden Rules of Opioid Prescribing.” If you, as the patient, understand that your doctor must follow these 7 golden rules, it will make it much easier for you to obtain excellent pain management, including opioids.  

I developed the 7 golden rules by analyzing the most common documentation lapses of doctors who were disciplined or prosecuted. I included them when I wrote the “Physician Primer: Prescribe Like a Lawyer” to empower doctors to think and practice like a lawyer and not lose their careers over simple documentation errors.

If you write a cover letter like the one below to your current or prospective physician, touching on each and every one of these 7 golden rules, your pain control will vastly improve, I promise. 

Dear Doctor,

#1 I have a legitimate medical reason for needing opioids. My medical diagnosis is… (be specific: examples include diabetic neuropathy, failed spine surgery, spinal stenosis, CRPS, etc.). Attached is my MRI report (or EMG, CT, X-ray, Bone Scan, lab test, etc.) proving this.  

#2 I am not now, nor have I ever been addicted to prescription medication, illegal drugs or alcohol.   

#3 I have no depression, psychosis or bipolar disorder.  

#4 I understand all the risks of opioids and related medications, as well as my options for all non-opioid alternative treatments.  

#5 I am not taking benzodiazepines and drinking alcohol.  

#6 I have attached my last 12 months of medical records (not applicable if you have been with the same physician for one year).  

#7 These records reflect that I am an honest, compliant and responsible patient.  

Respectfully,  

Pain Patient

If you do not meet these criteria, it means you are in a higher risk category and would be better managed at a university medical center or a teaching hospital. To my knowledge, the DEA or state medical board has never raided a teaching hospital or university medical center. 

The best way a patient can signal to me they are responsible and low risk is to write a letter covering each of the 7 golden rules, attached to one year’s worth of medical records. This essentially does my work for me, and it makes it easy for me to decide whether or not to accept the patient.

If your doctor still won’t budge, hand him my free “Primer Flyer,” a pamphlet that explains risk management, that’s available on my website: ​ThePhysicianPrimer.com​.

If all else fails, have him watch my YouTube video on The 7 Golden Rules of Opioid Prescribing for Doctors. 

Jeffrey W. Grolig, MD, JD, is a board-certified specialist in Physical Medicine & Rehabilitation. He has taught at UC Davis Medical Center in both the departments of Family Practice and Physical Medicine & Rehabilitation. Dr. Grolig has formerly worked as a licensed attorney and has authored 6 books.

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.

Scrambler Therapy Helped My Daughter Walk Again

By Reggie Greening, Guest Columnist

Beginning in August 2017, my daughter Amanda began having severe pain in her left foot after spraining her ankle. She was 20 years old at the time and described the pain as feeling as though her bones were being crushed by a red-hot anvil.

Over the next few months, Amanda started having more and more symptoms. It began with sharp pain, then discoloration, and severe swelling set in. This was about the time when she stopped being able to walk and had to be put on opioid medication in an attempt to manage the pain.

The bone crushing sensation began around the end of September, followed closely by burning pain. Amanda was still unable to walk and was taking opioids every four to six hours like clockwork. No one could figure out what was wrong or how to manage the pain other than with opioids.

While attempting to get a diagnosis, Amanda went through many rounds of testing. She had multiple x-rays, two MRIs (one with contrast dye injected intravenously), a three-phase bone scan, a nerve conductivity test, and two phases of bloodwork examined. She also went to a plethora of doctors, including a podiatrist, orthopedist, rheumatologist, dermatologist, physical therapists, homeopathic physician, chiropractor, pain management doctor, and a general medicine doctor.

The podiatrist and one of her physical therapists suspected Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS), and her podiatrist was the one who eventually determined the diagnosis of CRPS on February 16, 2018.

This spurred my research to find a more sustainable treatment option for Amanda. I spent hours searching online before discovering Scrambler Therapy.

I found a physician in New Jersey who posted videos on YouTube about Scrambler Therapy (also known as Calmare Pain Relief Therapy) and its benefits for those suffering with CRPS and other chronic nerve conditions.

We live in Louisiana, so I looked for a doctor who had a Scrambler Therapy machine closer to our home state. I eventually found a doctor in Dallas who has a machine in his office.

Amanda’s first round of treatment was administered by an osteopathic doctor in March 2018. After the fourth consecutive day of treatment, she was able to walk with the aid of crutches for the first time in seven months. The next day, after her fifth treatment, Amanda was able to walk independently. By the end of her initial round of treatment, she was entirely off opioids and NSAID pain relievers.

Our local TV station did a story about Amanda’s recovery.

Right now, the Scrambler treatment is not covered by insurance and payment for it adds up rather quickly. I am trying to get this therapy more widely acknowledged and known about so that it may become an option for others suffering with chronic neuropathic pain.

I have seen the benefits of Scrambler Therapy firsthand in my daughter. At the time of this writing, Amanda has been off opioids for two months and has been able to maintain the benefits of the initial treatment through booster treatments as needed.

Scrambler Therapy has the potential to help not just those suffering from CRPS (for whom pain relief often seems distant and hopeless), but also for those suffering from other neuropathic pain conditions.

The Greening family lives in Shreveport, Louisiana.

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.

A Pained Life: My New Year’s Resolution

By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

I am visiting at my sister's house. This was 38 years ago, but I still remember it and feel the hurt and pain as though it was yesterday.

My 12-year old nephew looks down at my penny loafers. Pointing to the penny in each shoe, he asks, “Are you wearing them to let everyone know how poor you are?"

That idea could only have come from his mother. This was a few years after the trigeminal neuralgia pain started, which disabled me and left me virtually housebound.

Unable to work and having no savings on which to rely (I was 26 at the time), I had to do something I never could have imagined. I went on public assistance. I was embarrassed and humiliated asking for that kind of help. That my family saw it as a black mark only made it that much worse.

In a way though, it was a badge of honor.  Not because I went to the state for help with food stamps and medical assistance, but because I chose to do what I needed to do.

The emotional cost to keep control and be as independent as possible -- in spite of the pain and the disability -- was enormous.  But I did it anyway.

What a good lesson that would have been for my nephew. Aunt Carol had a choice: Go back home and live with her parents (which would have been a calamity for all of us and a loss of my independence), or do what she needed to do to stay in control of her life even though it was very difficult. And she bravely chose the latter.

Instead the lesson learned was: Aunt Carol is poor and we should look down on her.

How many times have we had awful things said to us by family, coworkers, friends and people we turned to for help, only to be held in scorn, derision or plain indifference? And yet we held their “truths” as truths to be held dear.

I remember an Oprah Winfrey show from many years ago. Her admonition was as true then as it is now. Hold onto anger against another and who does it hurt?

They will forget what they said and the anger, nastiness and humiliation they showed us; while we hold onto the hurt and pain their words and behaviors caused.

So, at the end of the day, the one that stays hurt is not them, but us.

It's a new year. My resolution is to let go of all the hurt and pain that others have sent my way. It took me almost 38 years to realize I needed to make this change in my thinking. But, as they say, better late than never.

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.” 

Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here.

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

How Chronic Pain Led Me to Illegal Drugs

(Editor's note: This column was written by someone I've known for several years and consider a friend. The author is intelligent, college educated and works full time. They also have a progressive and incurable chronic pain condition. Like a growing number of pain patients who are undertreated or have lost access to pain care, my friend has turned to illegal drugs for pain relief. For obvious reasons, we are not disclosing the author's name.) 

For me, it started with borrowing a couple hydrocodone pills from my uncle, who’d just had surgery and didn’t finish his prescription.  

Technically illegal? Yes. Illegal illegal? Not really. That’s what I told myself.

I run out of pain pills early every month — because they are prescribed to take one every six hours and only last about three. So I was happy to have a few more to get through those last few days before my refill.  

I always need more though, because the pain is always there. So I started to swap pills with my cousin, who also has chronic pain.  “Here, take 10 of mine today,” I’d offer.  

Then a few days later, I’d go back with, “Okay, now I need to borrow some pills from you. Maybe just five to get me through until my next refill?”  

I know she would never consider those drug deals. She would never consider herself a dealer. She goes to church for goodness sake. 

Eventually, I started to pay a little cash for 5mg pills from a friend of a friend, because it seems only fair to give him something in return.

I guess that’s about as “drug deal” as drug deals get. Here is money for you in exchange for drugs for me. There’s no way to really argue that.   

But it still didn’t feel like a drug deal. He’s doing me a favor, so I’m doing him a favor. We’re working professionals. We’re not meeting in a dark alley. Nobody has a gun on them. We’re just helping each other.

Then I started buying marijuana to see if it would help with the pain.  I felt like marijuana was easier to get than my monthly pain pill prescription. And as long as I had the money, I could get as much as I wanted.  

I bought it from an old high school friend, who has a quiet house in the country and always invites me over for dinner. It felt more like buying homemade jewelry than buying homemade drugs. And she’d send me home with marijuana edibles that didn’t seem all that different than any other muffins my friends would bake for me.  

Recreational marijuana isn’t legal where I live, but it is in a lot of other places, so it’s still easy to justify this one to myself. My state is just a little behind. We’ll catch up. And soon buying an eighth won’t be much different than buying a pack of cigarettes.  

The marijuana doesn’t help me much other than putting me to sleep, so I hardly ever buy it. But if it did work — if it helped anywhere close to the way hydrocodone does — I would become a regular customer.  

Since I didn’t like it or use that much, I ended up selling some leftover marijuana to a friend’s uncle. That’s about when I officially became a dealer myself, I suppose.  

And now, I’m regularly buying extra hydrocodone from the local drug dealer. I meet up with him in the alley behind his apartment. He does not make drug dealing look glamorous. He never has enough money for his phone bill, he always needs a ride, and I’m pretty sure he uses the money I give him to buy heroin.  

I tell myself that most people would do what I was doing if they were enduring the kind of daily, debilitating chronic pain that I have. It’s either this or suicide.  

I try to get my doctor to increase my prescription and hold my breath every time they drug test me. So far, I’ve always passed. And so far, my prescription has yet to last me until the end of the month.  

All these illegal drugs get expensive. $10 for one 10mg hydrocodone. You can whip through $300 a week easily. Hydrocodone is more expensive than heroin and even harder to get.  

Sometimes I wonder if I should just take the leap and buy $20 worth of heroin, which would be more potent than $400 worth of hydrocodone pills. I know where I can get it now, thanks to my new connections to the local dealer.  

But so far, I’ve resisted. Not worth the possible side effects. Not worth the hassle. And not worth the potential legal issues. If I buy hydrocodone, I can slip them into one of my pill bottles with a legitimate label and the cops would have a hard time proving they weren’t mine. Heroin is a little more difficult to hide. 

I know some heroin users and they aren’t like the ones in the movies. They aren’t shooting up in dark alleys. They’re doing it in the morning to combat chronic pain. They’re doing it so they can go to work. They’re doing it because their legitimate doctor cut them off. They’re doing it so they can live their lives.  

And that’s what I'm doing, too. I bought 10 hydrocodone this morning, because I needed something to get me through the work day. Without opioid pain medication, I wouldn’t even be able to check my emails.  

I don’t know what the solution is, but I do know that when you’re in pain, you’ll do anything to make it stop. And as long as the only way to make it stop comes down to buying illegal drugs or killing myself, I’ll keep choosing illegal drugs — and pray that it doesn’t lead to me accidentally killing myself.  

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.

Stop Shaming Pain

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

I've encountered and witnessed shaming several times in the pain community. It’s as if there was a contest to compare one pain to another.

I once shared a personal experience online about a specific treatment option and got ripped apart by people who disagreed.

Then came a debate pertaining to how to properly label my specific head pain. Due to the fact I have cluster headaches, yet also live in a constant state of migraine, I've used the term “migraine clusters.” That caused offense and was deemed incorrect. No one debating me came up with a proper label for my never-ending pain, so I'm still trying to figure that one out.

There are also questionable looks and inquiries about my health, because I don't have a wheelchair, visible cast or a gushing wound.

I've also encountered others describing their ailments, only to cut themselves off by saying, “Oh, but it's nothing like what you endure!"

Our experiences don’t have to be the same for them to be valid. That's a mind frame the world as a whole could do well to adopt.

There have been times I've partied in my own pity for far too long, but I've since learned that serves no positive or productive purpose past a certain point. Visit those feelings and then send them on their way. Don't allow them to unpack and live in your brain. I'm not preaching, this is just as much a reminder to myself as anyone else.

We as human beings have all been through something that has changed us. A large portion of my life has been dedicated to the medical field. Nothing gave me a rush quite like having a full floor of patients that were well taken care of.  I used my career for a long time as a means of distraction from my own pain, because how couldn’t one get over themselves while constantly surrounded by people who have it much worse than you?

Newsflash to us all:  Whether in a hospital or walking around a park, there’s no possible way to know what someone is going through, feeling or what their circumstances have been up until the point your paths might cross.

We are all faced with hardships, some more than others, but pain is pain. Each individual is at a different place in their journey and each personal experience is unique.  This is a remarkable thing, because it provides a golden opportunity for us to learn from one another -- as opposed to having a ridiculous and unnecessary divide as we cater to the “I am offended” epidemic our world seems to be inching closer to by the day.

As an advocate and a person, my intent is never to cause insult. However, I am also not afraid to use my voice in an effort to get important conversations started. 

Having a difference of opinion is acceptable, but disrespect or tearing one another down is absolutely not.  Could we all at least agree that there's enough suffering already happening in our lives? Why contribute to it with each other? 

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headaches and fibromyalgia. Mia is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill.

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.

Puppy Medicine

By Jennifer Hochgesang, Guest Columnist  

I was miserable. My trigeminal neuralgia pain from multiple sclerosis was still uncontrolled, leaving me mostly housebound. I had also just been diagnosed with vestibular migraines, which cause vertigo. Sometimes the vertigo was so extreme I was unable to walk, the world moving like a drunken carnival ride that never stopped even when my eyes were closed.  

And while the trigeminal neuralgia (TN) was on the right side of my mouth, I had just gotten ulcers out of nowhere on the left side. Anytime I drank something I felt a blind searing pain that took minutes to subside.

I was just barely pushing through, not sure how much more I could take. But I had an appointment to see a puppy at a nearby animal shelter.

I have had dogs all my life. Each one has been a part of the family and amazing creatures: loving, smart, playful and giving. My last dog, Aequoris, passed away two years ago and her sister Zola a little before that. I needed time before getting another dog. But as I went through this year in the worst pain of my life, I started to slowly think about getting a dog again.

But I had many questions to ask myself: Was I well enough to care for a dog? Could I afford a vet? Would the dog get enough exercise? Did I have help for the times I was too sick to care for it? Were there walking services in my area or boarding services if I had to go to the hospital? Would pet insurance cover those situations? Would my family members want a dog and be willing to help?

Even as I answered all those questions on the way to the shelter, I almost cancelled. I just felt so physically awful and it was hard to think of enjoying a puppy.   

When we got there, they put us in a small room so we could meet the puppy and get to know her a little. She was an 11-week old rescue from a litter of five. They said she was a Spaniel mix, but really they had no idea what breed she was.

When they brought her in, my first thought was that she was pretty funny looking. Then she actually ran up to me and kissed me right on the left side of my mouth, the one that doesn’t have my TN. It was like she knew! I couldn’t believe it!

I held her and smelled that sweet puppy smell. She wasn’t funny looking after all. She was beautiful. She had dots of brown over her eyes, silky black fur down her back, and fawn-like legs with spots everywhere.

We played and I fell in love within seconds. I watched her play, moving like a little infant excited with the world. I laughed as she tried to catch a ball and fell, and was so moved when she came to me for comfort.

Suddenly I realized I wasn’t in as much pain! Holding her, rubbing her soft fur and watching her jump around just did something for me – like it was medicinal. She was helping me. I knew at that moment she would bring that gift to me and in return I would do whatever I could to make sure she was cared for: vet visits, exercise, training and love. I named her Sasha: helper of womankind.

Sasha is now almost six months old. She is crazy smart and learned sit, down, and up in the air the first day. I have also started working with a trainer so she doesn’t touch the right side of my face and set off a TN attack.

I can have Sasha off leash in the backyard and throw the ball for her to catch with my 7-year-old daughter, who thankfully runs like crazy with her.

But she still rings the bell to go outside seven times an hour and tries to eat my socks no matter how many times I say no. She grabs tissues and runs so fast, dodging furniture and ducking under and over until you want to pull your hair out.

But then you leave the room for one second and come back to find her butt wiggling, tail thumping on the floor, and plaintively whinnying, “I’m so happy to see you. I missed you so much.”

Sasha has the sweetest face and when she lays next to you with her head curled in your lap letting you pet her, looking up at you -- it’s just pure love.

Is it a coincidence that in the past five weeks I’ve finally found the food triggers for my trigeminal neuralgia? I’ve stopped eating dairy, citrus, chocolate, caffeine and sugar. My pain has gone down so much. It’s like night and day since I got Sasha. I still need to work with a nutritionist to make sure I’m eating the right foods, but for now this is working for me.

Sasha is still a baby so I haven’t expected her to do much more than be a cute furball. But one day while I was working on my iPad, she came and positioned herself right in my lap. I had to move her over a little so I could work. She still stuck like glue to the left side of my body with her head on my leg or arm throughout the day. I thought she was just tired.

Then slowly my TN pain began to increase, until I had a really awful volley of attacks every few minutes. Sasha moved closer and closer to my face as the pain got worse. During one brutal attack she kissed me on the left side and I was so thankful. She actually understood I was in pain and where it was. She knew when it was getting worse. And all she wanted was to heal and comfort me.  

As I write this, Sasha is sitting right here next to me chewing on a rawhide pretzel. She brought seven toys up on the couch in case she gets bored with the pretzel and wants me to throw something. I take a break from writing to pet her and sometimes she will turn over and give me her belly to rub. Soon she’s going to get up and ring that bell to go outside in the light snow.

She is just the most beautiful thing.

Jennifer Hochgesang lives in Illinois. Jennifer has multiple sclerosis, trigeminal neuralgia and vestibular migraines.

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.

Cannabis Gave Me Hope in My Darkest Hour

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

I've lived most of my life with an ongoing migraine -- often trapped in a hazy brain fog induced by prescription medication.  

Suggestions of all kinds of alternatives have been made to me, including cannabis. But it wasn't until my very first headache cluster – which lasted 54 straight days -- that I gave in and the medicinal use of this miracle drug saved my life.

At that point, I hadn't slept in an inhumane amount of time, wasn't able to work, participate in life, or keep food and drink down. Then a friend literally begged me to "take a hit."

Call me a square, but I didn’t take a sip of alcohol until my 21st birthday and had never used marijuana or had the desire to.  What did I have to lose?

I had tried everything else. My arms were still bruised from IV's at the ER. So with absolutely no more craps to give, I lit up.  And almost instantaneously felt better.

I spent a lot of time battling shame for breaking the law and the stigma of marijuana use. But I've evolved to accept my truth. Marijuana is not a gateway drug, unless a person makes the choice to escalate their substance use. No treatment option is meant to be approached as a cure, nor should it be a crutch.   

Marijuana can be ingested in multiple ways, there are countless strains and products without the THC itself -- although that's the key element that eases my ailments. It helps me combat nausea, cultivate an appetite, gives a slight boost in morale, and get quality rest.  

Cannabis works for me about half the time.  But that goes deeper than a glass half empty or half full.  It's a matter of having a resemblance of a life or not.   

There have been no overdoses or deaths reported from this natural plant. Over two dozen states, as well as our nation's capital, have adapted to the reality that it can be used as medicine.  It has saved and made A LOT of money, lowered criminal activity and rescued many others aside from myself.  

If someone had told me one day I'd be writing about marijuana for the world to see, I wouldn't have believed them.  But my public, unapologetic declaration is that cannabis provided a glimmer of hope during my darkest hour.  I share this not to promote it or advise anyone else, but because I want to raise awareness and demonstrate the courage to step out of your comfort zone.   

I've wounded relationships over this stuff, because not everyone can wrap their minds around it. I've also gotten in a bite sized amount of trouble over it -- munchie pun fully intended. It’s not for everyone but there are good reasons ill patients are being granted access to it. There’s research to support marijuana being helpful in attacking the opioid crisis, both for those struggling with addiction as well as those who are prescription dependent.    

How a person chooses to conduct themselves is a matter of free will. It has nothing to do with whether a CBD oil extract or pot brownie helps them get out of bed in the morning. It’s a matter of self-accountability and self-care. Cannabis saved my life.  

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headaches and fibromyalgia. Mia is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill.

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.

Don’t Put All Chronic Pain Patients in the Same Basket

By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

I recently read an article in KevinMD. The author, a family doctor in Maine, wrote about the need for more behavioral (mental) health treatment in primary care settings:

“We are doing that with chronic pain. Any patient who needs ongoing pain medication is required to attend four individual sessions to learn about what pain is, how the brain is the center of the pain experience, and how our pain experience can be altered by internal and external factors. We don’t use ‘pain scales’ for the simple reason that pain is never objective.”

As I read that, my blood boiled. I am sick of this concept that those of us with chronic pain need to be educated on how pain works, how our brains work, and how our pain can be mediated or controlled by mental health therapy.

Does a patient with cancer or arthritis need to be “educated” on how their brain works? Are they taught that the brain is the center of their health problems? Are they instructed with mumbo-jumbo about how their conditions can be “altered by internal and external factors”?

Or are they told what treatments are available for cancer or arthritis and how to deal with the symptoms?

It is not that I think education is unnecessary. The more we know and can understand about how our pain works, the better. It is important for patients with all diseases, not just ours, to know what we can and cannot do, what will make it worse, and what might help make it better.

But, once again, chronic pain patients are treated differently.  We can assist in our treatment only if we learn to change how we think and react to the symptoms.  

After I took a few deep breaths I calmed down. And gave it some further thought.

It occurs to me that the medical community often puts chronic pain conditions into one basket. But chronic back pain is not the same as pain from CRPS or trigeminal neuralgia. And rheumatoid arthritis and Ehlers-Danlos syndrome are not on the same level physiologically or psychologically as tension headaches.

It’s as though all cancers were considered as one. As though basal cell carcinoma - the least dangerous of cancers -- requires chemotherapy and radiation just like breast or lung cancer.

Many of us already have to fight not being accepted or believed by families, friends and colleagues. I wonder if it is time to put some of that energy into working with medical providers so they will accept that not all pain is the same.  And our needs should be treated as any other chronic medical condition.

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.” 

Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here.

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

My Therapist Told Me to Write This Column

By Crystal Lindell, PNN Columnist

My therapist said I should write a column about how to travel while sick and I would love to do that, but I haven’t figure it out yet.

I get through work trips by drowning myself in dry shampoo, sleeping on conference tables between meetings, eating coffee for every meal, and using pain medication that wears off too fast — all while getting super behind on emails. 

My therapist said I should write a column about how to manage your health while maintaining a full-time job. Who the hell knows how to do this?

I work at home, which is a great gig if you can get it, but most people can’t.

Actually, I do have a life tip: If you have to work while sick, work at home. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.

I spend my work days in my pajamas under a soft red blanket on the couch. I take pain pills when I hit my 3 pm slump, and I tell my coworkers entirely too many details about my health, while also avoiding using scooters at conferences so that I can look cool. I call in sick too much and not enough. And I am always tired.

My therapist also said I should write a column about how to live with chronic pain. Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on that.

For now, my life tips include: Saying “yes” every single time your doctor offers you pain pills; throwing away every cute pair of heels you own because they just aren’t worth it; and using filters if you ever have to video chat someone.

Every day of my life is a struggle. Every flipping day. I tried working out recently and fractured my foot, and then I tore my rotator cuff by using crutches. Now my foot is still messed up, and I just limp around on it while rubbing my shoulder. Sexy.

I skip physical therapy appointments because they’re too expensive, I’m constantly crash dieting and then gaining the weight back, and I never wear my shoulder sling or my orthopedic boot.

I’m obviously great at this.

I spend all my money on co-pays, Taco Bell, and kratom. I have no long-term career plan that goes anything beyond, “Get disability — eventually.” And I literally go off my antidepressants every few weeks because I think I don’t need them because I’m feeling better. This is a lie. I need them.

I wish I was wise and cute and Pinterest worthy. I’m not. I’m barely Walmart trip worthy most days. I never get enough sleep, I cry entirely too much, and there is literally a dented space on the couch from where I spend all my time.

So if anyone has figured all this out, let me know. You should probably write a column about it.

Crystal Lindell is a journalist who lives in Illinois. She eats too much Taco Bell, drinks too much espresso, and spends too much time looking for the perfect pink lipstick. She has hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome.  Crystal writes about it on her blog, “The Only Certainty is Bad Grammar.”

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

The Overdose Crisis Is Not Just About Rx Opioids

By Roger Chriss, PNN Columnist

The CDC last week released its latest report on drug overdoses in 2017.  The death toll was the highest recorded, with over 70,000 Americans dying from drug poisoning. Deaths involving illicit fentanyl and other black market synthetic opioids surged 45 percent, while deaths involving opioid pain medication remained unchanged.

Although the death toll for 2018 may be a bit lower, it is premature to declare as the Washington Post did that “the opioid epidemic may be receding.”

Instead, the crisis is evolving.

“Fentanyl deaths are up, a 45 percent increase; that is not a success,” Dan Ciccarone, PhD, a professor at the University of California, San Francisco, told the New York Times. “We have a heroin and synthetic opioid epidemic that is out of control and needs to be addressed.”

The available data for 2018 supports this. There have been over 1,500 overdoses in Massachusetts so far this year and the details of those deaths are sobering. Fentanyl was present in 90 percent of toxicology reports during the second quarter of 2018, a three-fold increase since 2014. Prescription drugs of any form were found in only 17 percent of reports.

Public health data from Connecticut is similar. Illicit opioids were found in nearly 80 percent of the 867 people who died of an unintentional opioid overdose in 2016.

Current data is also showing that drugs like methamphetamine are having a significant impact on overdose rates. Kaiser Health News reports that amphetamine related hospitalizations – mostly involving meth – are surging and that more than 10,000 people died of meth-related drug overdoses last year.

The opioid overdose crisis is no longer primarily about prescription opioids used medically, or even exclusively about opioids. And studies of long-term opioid therapy are not showing increasing rates of overdose.

Medscape reported on a recent study that found cancer patients had a much lower risk of dying from an opioid overdose than the general population. The study looked at opioid deaths from 2006 through 2016, a period that saw rapidly rising overdose rates. Opioid death rates jumped from 5.33 to 8.97 per 100,000 people in the general population during that period, but among cancer patients, opioid deaths rose from 0.52 to 0.66 per 100,000.

Another recent study found that the use of opioids in treating pain from sickle cell disease was “safe” and rarely results in overdoses  

“What our study uniquely shows is that, using this large nationwide database, that deaths in a hospital setting related to opioid toxicity or overdose almost never happen among those with sickle cell disease," Oladimeji Akinola Akinboro, MBBS, of Boston University School of Medicine told Medpage. "This suggests that current patterns of opioid use in this population is safe, assuming we continue the same risk-mitigation strategies."

In other words, long-term pain management in disorders like cancer and sickle cell disease is not associated with increased rates of fatal overdose. Both of these studies have important limitations, in particular the possibility that some overdose deaths went uncounted. But the low rates of overdose in these groups suggests that with careful patient screening and monitoring, opioids can be used safely.

More can and should be done. Opioids are being prescribed more cautiously to children and teens. This is important, in light of a new JAMA study on wisdom tooth extraction, which found that over 5% of young people who had their wisdom teeth removed and received opioids for pain control went on to receive an opioid abuse-related diagnosis.

The overdose crisis is fast evolving into a poly-drug substance use problem. Addiction expert Michael Botticelli, the former director of National Drug Control Policy, told WBUR that a better understanding is needed of why people use drugs, not just which drugs they use.

"The data are pretty clear that we have a drug use epidemic and a drug overdose epidemic,” he said. “I think we have to really be careful that our strategies speak to all of those issues.”

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.