This is your War on Drugs:
I'll be looking into the details, but the first thing to mind is: Why is this bill even necessary?
Well, the law, as it stands now, is absolutely screwed up:
How does that make sense?
Upshot: There's apparently only one person in the state senate that thinks it does.
____________________
Notes:
Holden, Dominic. "Overdose Prevention Bill Passes State Senate". Slog. February 5, 2010. Slog.TheStranger.com. February 6, 2010. http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2010/02/05/overdose-prevention-bill-passes-state-senate
—————. "A Death in Edmonds". The Stranger. January 2, 2008. TheStranger.com. February 6, 2010. http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=474219
A bill that would provide legal immunity for people who call 911 to help someone overdosed on illegal drugs just passed the state senate, with only one dissenting vote, from Sen. Mike Carrell (R-28). The bill now goes to the state house of representatives.
Sponsored by state senator Rosa Franklin (D-29), ESB 5516 says, "A person acting in good faith who seeks medical assistance for someone experiencing a drug-related overdose shall not be charged or prosecuted for possession of a controlled substance."
(Holden, "Overdose")
Sponsored by state senator Rosa Franklin (D-29), ESB 5516 says, "A person acting in good faith who seeks medical assistance for someone experiencing a drug-related overdose shall not be charged or prosecuted for possession of a controlled substance."
(Holden, "Overdose")
I'll be looking into the details, but the first thing to mind is: Why is this bill even necessary?
Well, the law, as it stands now, is absolutely screwed up:
In every fatal overdose case, the drugs came from someone. But as the prosecutor, St. Clair, explained, the controlled-substance-homicide charge is uncommon because in most cases the overdose victim is "alone when they were found so you can't make that connection" to the supplier. But instead of preventing overdose deaths, prosecutions like these may result in more deaths. The state of Washington's position is clear: If someone calls 911 when a friend is overdosing, not only does the witness risk charges for possessing or selling drugs (which 911 callers in these situations have feared since the passage of the Controlled Substances Act), but he or she could be charged with homicide, too. The end result? Overdose victims—who might survive with prompt medical care—may be abandoned and left to die.
"It goes in the wrong direction and cuts against overdose prevention, overdose reporting, and taking someone to the hospital," says defense attorney Hiatt. "If I give you the drugs, I'll be less likely to take you to the hospital."
I can relate. When I was 17, a friend who had taken five hits of LSD showed up at my house during a small party. He misheard a conversation and believed we thought he was gay. He began to worry that his attraction to women was a charade—it wasn't—and then spiraled into an acid-induced state of terror. He began babbling like R2-D2, holding his breath until his head looked like a plum, and trying to claw out his eyes. I called 911.
A fleet of screaming ambulances and police cars arrived at my parents' house. I didn't think twice about opening the door and directing them to my deranged shell of a friend. But no sooner had they crossed the threshold than a cadre of police officers escorted me to the basement, where they handcuffed me to a chair. Officers interrogated me for hours, threatening to search my house. (My parents are out of town so I can't give you permission, officer, and besides, there's no acid at the house, nope, and he took it before he arrived, yup.) The officers finally left, but not until midmorning. My wrists were bruised from the cuffs and I've never looked at a police officer quite the same way again.
(Holden, "Death")
"It goes in the wrong direction and cuts against overdose prevention, overdose reporting, and taking someone to the hospital," says defense attorney Hiatt. "If I give you the drugs, I'll be less likely to take you to the hospital."
—————
I can relate. When I was 17, a friend who had taken five hits of LSD showed up at my house during a small party. He misheard a conversation and believed we thought he was gay. He began to worry that his attraction to women was a charade—it wasn't—and then spiraled into an acid-induced state of terror. He began babbling like R2-D2, holding his breath until his head looked like a plum, and trying to claw out his eyes. I called 911.
A fleet of screaming ambulances and police cars arrived at my parents' house. I didn't think twice about opening the door and directing them to my deranged shell of a friend. But no sooner had they crossed the threshold than a cadre of police officers escorted me to the basement, where they handcuffed me to a chair. Officers interrogated me for hours, threatening to search my house. (My parents are out of town so I can't give you permission, officer, and besides, there's no acid at the house, nope, and he took it before he arrived, yup.) The officers finally left, but not until midmorning. My wrists were bruised from the cuffs and I've never looked at a police officer quite the same way again.
(Holden, "Death")
How does that make sense?
Upshot: There's apparently only one person in the state senate that thinks it does.
____________________
Notes:
Holden, Dominic. "Overdose Prevention Bill Passes State Senate". Slog. February 5, 2010. Slog.TheStranger.com. February 6, 2010. http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2010/02/05/overdose-prevention-bill-passes-state-senate
—————. "A Death in Edmonds". The Stranger. January 2, 2008. TheStranger.com. February 6, 2010. http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=474219