Truth Tale # 21: For Brandon- February 27th, 2002-November 4th, 2022

Truth be told, I did not wake up today knowing it was Fentanyl Prevention & Awareness Day. I did wake up knowing I had lunch plans with a dear friend who lost her son to fentanyl. When I learned that my lunch and this awareness day were on the same day, it felt the rush of a Higher Power at work; that buzzing of kismet that is unmistakable.

I flooded my Facebook page with info about Narcan, questions for people to think about…to raise awareness, etc. But when I was driving to meet my friend, stopped at a light, a unhoused person came up to my car, and I looked into his eyes, and knew that could have been my son 9 months ago. I wanted to say, “Please call your mom.” but I didn’t, instead I continued driving and the song ‘Why’ by Annie Lennox came on…and I began to tear up, thinking about how there is NO answer to the question WHY? when it comes to substance use disorder. Weaving all of these tiny moments together in my head, I got the idea of asking my friend if she would like to honor her son by (me) writing something about him on this fentanyl awareness day.

We sat down to lunch, I gently floated my idea out to her, and her eyes answered the question, and her words confirmed it. “Yes, I would love to honor him that way.” We ate. And talked. And ate. And cried. And talked. And here is what came from that:

Brandon. A loved child, with adoring parents, and a disease. He never knew that his first puff of marijuana would ignite the disease that would lead him down a path to his death. He longed for the life of a 20 year old- he wanted a dog, to go to college, to have a driver’s license, to have fun, to be at that point in life where true independence was possible. He talked of working with others in the area of substance use disorder. He wanted to help people.

But his disease had other plans. Brandon was sober for 9 months, had a relapse, then was able to get 6 months. He got to feel what it was like to live a life worth living. He had goals. He called his mom the day of his death, telling her that he wanted to go to college. He had a job. He had friends. He got his own apartment. But only for ONE week. He moved in on a Saturday, and was gone on Friday. Less than a week, actually. It started with some pot smoking, then some drinking, and then on Friday, November 4th, he bought ONE pill- a percoset, 30mg. He smoked ONE THIRD of the pill and died. It was laced with fentanyl. The cops found the other 2 thirds next to his bed.

Toxicology report read, “Manner of death- Accident, Fentanyl and Norfentanyl Intoxication.” Just like that. Fentanyl is deadly…in the smallest amounts, undetectable by smell, unseen with the eye, simply pressed right into a pill, sprinkled into anything. By definition, fentanyl is a powerful, synthetic opioid analgesic that is similar to morphine, but is 50 to 100 times more potent. In the life of all of those touched by the opioid epidemic, it is a murderer.

When his belongings were gathered, there was something that was unusual to see. A clean and well organized apartment. A neat and tidy place, with his shoes all lined up in a row, sweatshirts hung equidistantly, a place that Brandon created, using the tools he learned in sober living- make your bed, keep your living space clean, etc. A place Brandon could be proud of…a place showing Brandon’s desire to flourish. But this disease is “cunning, baffling and powerful!”*

“I’m so proud of you, Brandon. You worked so hard at being sober. It’s not your fault. Fly free sweet boy, fly free.” -Brandon’s Mom

May his memory be a blessing.

*from pages 58, 59 of The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous

Please get educated about fentanyl, signs of overdose, Narcan use…Talk about it, don’t let stigma get in your way…..be prepared as best you can. Here is a link to a website where you can find out where to get Narcan: https://www.narcan.com/home