#Fentanyl Test Strips

[transfloridaresources]

Urgent need for mutual aid! Due to the recent rash of overdoses happening in FL, there has been an increased demand for fentanyl test strips! We need to keep our supply up in order to meet the demand we're getting, so please consider donating and boosting this post! We have cash app and venmo @TeanKombatikon, please put 'FTS' in the notes! THANK YOU Source

[recentupdates]

Testing Strips: A Quick and Easy Way to Test for Drugs and Alcohol

Testing strips have become increasingly popular in recent years as a quick and easy way to test for drugs and alcohol. These small strips are designed to provide accurate results in just a few minutes, making them ideal for use in a variety of settings, including at home, in the workplace, and in healthcare facilities. In this article, we'll take a closer look at testing strips and how they can be used to test for drugs and alcohol.

Fentanyl Test Strips

Fentanyl is a potent synthetic opioid that has become a significant contributor to the opioid crisis in the United States. Fentanyl is so powerful that even a small amount can be deadly, making it crucial to detect and prevent overdoses. Fentanyl test strips are a simple and effective way to test for the presence of fentanyl in drugs such as heroin and cocaine. These strips work by detecting the presence of fentanyl metabolites in a sample, providing a result in just a few minutes. Using fentanyl test strips can help prevent accidental overdoses and save lives.

Alcohol Test Strips

Alcohol test strips are designed to test the blood alcohol content (BAC) of an individual quickly and easily. These strips work by detecting the presence of ethanol in a sample, providing a semi-quantitative result that indicates the individual's BAC. Alcohol test strips can be used at home, in the workplace, or by law enforcement officials to determine if an individual is under the influence of alcohol. These strips are simple to use and can provide accurate results in just a few minutes.

Drug Test Strips: Detect a Wide Range of Drugs

Drug test strips are designed to test for a wide range of drugs, including marijuana, cocaine, opioids, and amphetamines. These strips work by detecting the presence of drug metabolites in a sample, providing a semi-quantitative result that indicates the individual's drug use. Drug test strips are used in a variety of settings, including at home, in the workplace, and in healthcare facilities. These strips are simple to use and can provide accurate results in just a few minutes.

Alcohol Urine Test Strips: Test for Alcohol in Urine

Alcohol urine test strips are designed to test for the presence of alcohol in urine quickly and easily. These strips work by detecting the presence of ethanol metabolites in a sample, providing a semi-quantitative result that indicates the individual's alcohol use. Alcohol urine test strips can be used at home or in healthcare facilities to determine if an individual has been drinking alcohol. These strips are simple to use and can provide accurate results in just a few minutes.

Kratom Drug Test

Kratom is a tropical tree native to Southeast Asia that has gained popularity in the United States as a natural alternative to prescription painkillers. Kratom contains alkaloids that can produce opiate-like effects, making it an attractive option for those looking to manage pain or withdrawal symptoms. Kratom drug tests are designed to test for the presence of kratom alkaloids in a sample, providing a semi-quantitative result that indicates the individual's kratom use. These tests can be used at home or in healthcare facilities to determine if an individual has been using kratom. Source Url: https://drug-test-cups-kits-cards-strips.blogspot.com/2023/04/testing-strips-Test-for-drugs-and-alcohol.html

[underwhelmingalchemist]

My local art festival was giving out free narcan and lessons on how to use it/recognize the signs of overdose, as well as fentanyl test strips!!

[trans-axolotl]

got so much free narcan today also which was really nice 👍i thought they were just sending me two boxes but they sent me two cases!! going to start leaving them in a few places for people to take for free

[ableism]

I know i’m functionally a gay DARE officer at this point but I do in fact feel some sort of way about Cocaine being back in vogue. Surely I sound like a square + narc and I’ll concede ok do whatever you want, nobody can materially stop another person from using drugs if they really want to 🤷🏻 I don’t really care that it’s hip to do party drugs, moreso I want to articulate a general level of caution and concern that I never see a sidecar of harm reduction and safe using practices along with the commonplace clips of people straight up snorting coke I’ve seen for “brat summer!!!1!!”

You 🫵 are not immune to ingesting fentanyl or any number of other additives. Do you think drugs at the gay club are different than the drugs people are taking under bridges and in gutters? I promise they’re not! So if you want to use drugs and continue being alive, do your part to be safe. Protecting yourself protects others and your community.

Do not accept drugs from strangers. Test your drugs with fentanyl test strips. Carry narcan and know how to administer it. Never use alone. Have an exit strategy if you’re using drugs in a public space. Know the contact information for your local harm reduction groups, overdose emergency hotline, and if you need/want it, addiction treatment orgs. This is all the bare minimum for community care if you intend to be out in the world using drugs. Mainly I encourage you all to be buzzkills if it means you don’t have to die of an accidental overdose. Overdose is the leading cause of death for Americans under 40. I have a whole lot of social workers in my network and however bad you think the synthetic opioid crisis is, it’s worse. The war stories I’ve heard from my people on the ground are… The shit of nightmares. Don’t let it be you or anybody you love.

If you live in the state of Georgia, DM me for a longer list of resources.

Fentanyl information (harm reduction.org)

Get Narcan

How to use fentanyl test strips

Call 311 to find out where to get Narcan in your community at no cost to you

[anistarrose]

Please don't tune out when you get to the non-partisan section of your ballot this November. First off, where state Supreme Court justices are elected, Republicans are trying their darndest to elect candidates who will destroy reproductive freedom, gut voting rights, and do everything in their power to give "contested" elections to Republicans. Contrast Wisconsin electing a justice in 2023 who helped rule two partisan gerrymanders unconstitutional, versus North Carolina electing a conservative majority in 2022, who upheld a racist voter ID law and a partisan gerrymander that liberal justices had previously struck down both of.

Second, local judicial offices will make infinitely more of an impact on your community than a divided state or federal legislature will. District and circuit courts, especially, are where criminalization of homelessness and poverty play out, and where electing a progressive judge with a commitment to criminal justice reform can make an immediate difference in people's lives.

It's a premier example of buying people time, and doing profound-short-term good, while we work to eventually change the system. You might not think there will be any such progressive justices running in your district, but you won't know unless you do your research. (More on "research" in a moment.)

The candidates you elect to your non-partisan city council will determine whether those laws criminalizing homelessness get passed, how many blank checks the police get to surveil and oppress, and whether lifesaving harm reduction programs, like needle exchanges and even fentanyl test strips, are legal in your municipality. Your non-partisan school board might need your vote to fend off Moms for Liberty candidates and their ilk, who want to ban every book with a queer person or acknowledgement of racism in it.

Of course, this begs the question — if these candidates are non-partisan, and often hyper-local, then how do I research them? There's so much less information and press about them, so how do I make an informed decision?

I'm not an expert, myself. But I do think/hope I have enough tips to consist of a useful conclusion to this post:

Plan ahead. If you vote in person, figure out what's on your ballot before you show up and get jumpscared by names you don't know. Find out what's on your ballot beforehand, and bring notes with you when you vote. Your city website should have a sample ballot, and if they drop the ball, go to Ballotpedia.

Ballotpedia in general, speaking of which. Candidates often answer Ballotpedia's interviews, and if you're lucky, you'll also get all the dirt on who's donating to their campaign.

Check endorsements. Usually candidates are very vocal about these on their websites. If local/state progressive leaders and a couple unions (not counting police unions lol) are endorsing a candidate, then that's not the end of my personal research process per se, but it usually speeds things up.

Check the back of the ballot. That's where non-partisan races usually bleed over to. This is the other reason why notes are helpful, because they can confirm you're not missing anything.

I've seen some misconceptions in the reblogs, so an addendum to my point about bringing notes on the candidates: I strongly suggest making those notes a physical list that you bring polling place with you. Many states do allow phones at the polling place, but several states explicitly don't — Nevada, Maryland, and Texas all ban phones, and that may not be an exhaustive list. There may also be states that allow individual city clerks to set policies.

You should also pause and think before you take a photo of your ballot, because even some states that don't ban phones still ban ballot photographs. But whether it's a photo, or just having your phone in general — in an environment as high-risk for voter suppression as the current one, you don't want even a little bit of ambiguity about your conduct. Physical notes are your friends.

[just-a-gal-with-a-boomerang]

My local queer bookstore is being threatened with eviction over their free narcan and fentanyl test strips, free store for the unhoused, and free narcan trainings.

Bluestockings is an incredible worker-owned community space that has been apart of the Lower East Side for 25 years. But in the last couple years, they've faced increasing harassment from the wealthier neighbors moving in and complaining about the presence of unhoused people around their store front. Despite all their community work being allowed by their lease, the landlord is pushing for an eviction.

Please help support Bluestockings! Visit them (if you're local), order books online, donate! We need more queer and community-oriented spaces, not another overpriced coffee shop or chain franchise.

[vaspider]

Measure 110, or the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

So if y'all aren't local to Oregon, you may not have heard that the Oregon state legislature just voted to -- essentially -- gut Measure 110, the ballot measure which decriminalized all drug possession and use in the state. It turned all drug use into a citation instead, and the citation and fine could be waived by completing a health screening. The entire point of Measure 110 was replacing jail with health care and services to help people instead, and while I could probably write a very long side post on the imperfections of that approach, it was at the very least a move in the right direction after decades of the pathetic failure and absolutely racist mess that is the "War on Drugs."

You may hear this pointed to in coming years as a reason why we have to just throw people into jail for using drugs, because Measure 110 failed. And like... it did fail, kinda. Sorta. It failed in that it did not manage to fix everything immediately, and it created some new issues while also exposing older issues more sharply.

It also saved the state $40 million in court costs prosecuting low-level drug offenses, kept thousands of people whose literal only crime was putting a substance into the body of a consenting adult (themselves) out of jail, put at least one addiction services center in every county in the state, invested $300 million in addiction services, and an awful lot more. See the end of this post for more reading.

But where it failed, it failed because it wasn't supported. Police and advocacy groups both asked for specific tickets for this new class of offenses which had the phone number to call to go through the health screening and the information about how going through that health screening would make the ticket go away printed on it prominently - lawmakers declined to fund this. Governor Kotek budgeted $50K to train officers on how to handle these new citations and how to direct people to the treatment and housing supports, but lawmakers thought that training officers on this new law at all was a waste of money. Money moved extremely slowly out to the supports that were supposed to come into play to help people obtain treatment or get access to harm-reduction strategies. People freaked the fuck out about clean-needle outreach, fentanyl testing strip distribution, Narcan training, and other harm-reduction strategies.

And at the end of the day, Measure 110 gets called a failure because it wasn't a silver bullet. Never mind that thousands of people are not sitting in jail right now for basically no fucking reason. Never mind that people have gotten treatment, harm has been reduced, overdoses have been prevented...

So, yeah. You'll probably start hearing this trotted out as proof that, well, we triiiied decriminalizing drugs, but look what happened in Portland! Well, what happened in Oregon is that we got set up to fail, and still didn't fail, just didn't totally succeed.

Measure 110 highlights, quoted directly from Prison Policy Initiative:

The Oregon Health Authority reported a 298% increase in people seeking screening for substance use disorders.

More than 370,000 naloxone doses have been distributed since 2022, and community organizations report more than 7,500 opioid overdose reversals since 2020.

Although overdose rates have increased around the country as more fentanyl has entered the drug supply, Oregon’s increase in overdoses has been similar to other states’ and actually less than neighboring Washington’s. A peer-reviewed study comparing overdose rates in Oregon with the rest of the country after the law went into effect found no link between Measure 110 and increased overdose rates.

There is no evidence that drug use rates in Oregon have increased. A cross-sectional survey of people who use drugs across eight counties in Oregon found that most had been using drugs for years; only 1.5% reported having started after Measure 110 went into effect.

There has been no increase in 911 calls in Oregon cities after Measure 110.

Measure 110 saves Oregonians millions. Oregon is expected to save $37 million between 2023-2025 if Measure 110 continues. This is because it costs up to $35,217 to arrest, adjudicate, incarcerate, and supervise a person taken into custody for a drug misdemeanor — and upwards of $60,000 for a felony. In contrast, treatment costs an average of $9,000 per person. The money saved by Measure 110 goes directly to state funding for addiction and recovery services.

There is no evidence that Measure 110 was associated with a rise in crime. In fact, crime in Oregon was 14% lower in 2023 than it was in 2020.

Further reading/sources:

[vague-humanoid]

Last November, New York’s state prison system was found to have wrongly punished more than 2,000 detainees due to false positives from drug tests manufactured by Sirchie Finger Print Laboratories.

For years, the test strips used on Rikers Island, the city-run jail system, were also provided by Sirchie. But after complaints about the reliability of the tests, the Department of Correction switched to kits made by DetectaChem last April.

The review by the Department of Investigation found DetectaChem’s test strips had a false positive rate of 79%, while Sirchie’s were wrong 91% of the time.

@riotbard

[annabelle--cane]

I'm pioneering a brand new approach to public health called "harm promotion" where clients fill out a form that indicates what ailments they're at risk for and we cut out the middle man and infect them directly and efficiently on site. we also provide services such as loose weave condoms and fentanyl testing strips that add a bunch if they don't find any. I plan to set up these clinics across the street from existing harm reduction centers, and key features of their design will include massive devil horns protruding from the roofs and 24/7 blazing inferno screams.

[trans-axolotl]

US Harm Reduction Resources

continually updating, not a complete list. feel free to add on any resources you find helpful.

Free Safer Supplies:

Each organization will have different supplies, but generally, harm reduction orgs provide things like syringes, safer snorting + smoking kits, Narcan, condoms, lube, and wound care supplies. Each org has different policies for how to get supplies--some do deliveries, some have drop in centers, some only do one to one needle exchange, some are more flexible.

Next Distro: mail based syringe provider for certain states. Also mails free Narcan.

NASEN: national map of syringe providers

a lot of harm reduction collectives aren't going to have their information listed on big national websites--it's always worth searching "harm reduction in my area" and seeing what's around you. Even if you don't live in a big city, there might be a harm reduction organization in your state that can help you find someone closer to you. there's a lot of rad people doing underground work who want to be there to help you who aren't as easy to find online. If there's street medic collectives, mutual aid groups or groups like Food not Bombs in your area, you can ask people in them who might know where to find harm reduction services in your area!

Drug Users Unions:

Drug users unions are activist groups made for people who use drugs, by people who use drugs! Drug users unions do advocacy work to end criminalization, as well as providing vital community support. Many drug users unions are also inclusive of sex workers and work to decriminalize sex work as well. You can search for "drug users union" in your state.

Urban Survivors Union: National, has resources for creating drug users union

Chosen Few: Drug users union for Black drug users in DC

San Francisco Drug users union

Sex Work Advocacy Groups:

Organizations that do decrim advocacy and provide support for sex workers.

Sex Worker Outreach Project USA- National, has chapters in many states.

Black Sex Worker Collective

Sex Workers Project

How to Use Safely:

Guides, videos, toolkits for safer use!

Harm Reduction Coalition Resource Library

Getting Off Right: A Safety Manual for Injection Drug Users

Safer Crack Smoking

Safer Snorting

Safer Hormone Injection

Levels of Risk: Veins

Wound Care video w/ ASL

How to Use Fentanyl Test Strips

DanceSafe-testing kits, including reagent testing kits!

Erowid-shares experiences people have with different drugs, dosages, what things to expect

Bluelight- another forum for discussing experiences with drugs.

Drug Interactions Checker

Sex Work Resources:

Tricks of the Trade by L. Synn Stern: tips for street based sex work

A Quick and Dirty Sex Worker Safety Toolkit

Girls Do What they Have to Do To Survive by YWEP

Dis/Organizing: How We Build Collectives Beyond Institutions by Rachel Kuo & Lorelei Lee

Tryst Blog

Hotlines:

Never Use Alone: 877-696-1996. Overdose Prevention Hotline--Volunteers stay on the phone with you while you use and call emergency services if you overdose.

HIPS Hotline-​​​1 (800) 676-4477. Emotional support for drug users and sex workers. Does not work with cops.

feel free to add on more resources. love + lube <3

[you-call-it-a-dude]

Just Can't Hack It Pt.2

Pt.1

Request: so this is part two to a story. The original request was reader dealing with substance use. I had a few folks wanting another part and I was feeling inspired to add a second part so I did!

Pairings: Leighton Murray x female reader

Warnings: TW!!! I would say this one is more triggering than the first. Mentions of opioid use, accidental overdose, use of narcan/naloxone, difficult discussions around the topic of addiction, needles. This is a super heavy story. Read with caution, take a step back if it's not for you. I have many other stories you can check out if you want something more light hearted. Nobody dies, but it's a pretty realistic scenario about addiction/loving someone with addiction. Could be triggering in many ways, so please be aware.

Authors Note: here I go again adding more chapters to stories I've been saying imma leave as one shots lol. This story is super depressing, I'm so sorry. If you're into that tho, welcome lol. I apologize for my lack of posting. Ive had a lot of life changes happen recently and my mental health hasn't been the greatest (maybe writing this depressing ass chapter will help). I do want to clarify, I am not a drug user. Just a social worker that reads, does research lol. Thank you all for your patience, thank you so everyone that's read my other work while waiting for me to post again. I love you all. I love you for reading, for sharing opinions and engaging in discussions with me and I love you for existing. I hope you like this next chapter

**if you have any questions regarding Narcan/Naloxone, fentanyl test strips, or anything like that, feel free to reach out**

----

You woke up with a loud gasp, some random girl rubbing circles on your sternum. You rushed to sit forward, accidentally shoving her back.

The air was flowing back into your lungs and you felt like you couldn't get it in there quick enough. Your teeth were chattering and you were in that same fucking basement DJ died in.

You grab her wrist with shaky hands and she talked to you calmly, asking you if you were okay and all you could do was shake your head no. Your chest was heaving and it felt like you were inhaling razor blades or something.

What the fuck?

"Sit up slow." She tells you, helping you sit up and you notice her hands are also shaking. "You should probably go to the emergency room." She tells you and you're confused because you don't know why.

"Did something happen?" You ask, your throat dry. You cough to clear it and when you reach forward to grab a cup of whatever off the table, you see an oddly shaped object discarded on the table. You pick it up, your hands still shaking and you run your thumb over the pink 'Narcan' written on the label "Fuck." You whisper to yourself. "Fuck, did...?" You turn your attention to her and she kind of just shrugs.

"I'm not sure honestly. Maybe? But I didn't think it could hurt. You didn't look great, like at all."

You continue to stare down at the small nasal spray, your hands still shaking like never before. You blinked hard a few times, trying to wrap your head around everything.

"I'm so sorry." You apologized to this stranger for most likely traumatizing the fuck out of her.

"Do you have someone to call? You probably need to go to the emergency room." She ignored your apology and something about that made you feel like shit.

"Emergency room? What? That stuff worked. I'm fine." You say, tossing the bottle back onto the table.

"Yeah, but it wears off in like thirty minutes, more or less." She points out.

"Wears off?!" You ask in shock and she nods at you, looking at you like you were stupid.

"And I'm not using my other one on you so I suggest you go." She said with a slight attitude, no longer giving off that friendly vibe she had before. "And maybe get your own for next time, yeah?"

"Fine, Jesus." You say, no longer feeling as indebted to her the more bitchy she got toward you.

You take a few moments to gather yourself, still feeling not the greatest. The girl next to you that potentially saved your life was now injecting something between her toes and if that wasn't enough motivation to get the fuck up and go, you don't know what is.

You grab your things and thank her again. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't say anything back.

Your legs feel weak and shaky. Getting up the stairs and out of the house took way more effort than it should've. You hated this fucking place and you felt disgusting for even coming back.

Your intention was to take an Uber to the emergency room on campus, but when you checked your bank account you were almost certain a ride request wouldn't even go through.

You physically just felt too weak to stand so you sat on the curb, knowing you were going to have to call Leighton and just fucking hated yourself for it.

You pulled out the pills you had taken from your pocket and investigated them. You got them from Liza instead of your normal dealer. She told you they would be exactly the same pills you were used to buying from Angel, just less expensive. Your lack of funds sold you on them immediately. Except now that you actually took the time to study them, you realize they looked nothing like the other ones.

You had no idea what you took.

What you do know is you took two of them at once. It was less than what you normally would've taken. You can't even remember why you decided to only take two instead of your usual four, but clearly sober you was looking out.

Well...semi-sober you.

You called Leighton and it took three tries for her to answer. She was mad at you again because you bailed on her the other night on dinner plans that you made.

"Hello?" She finally answered. You could hear laughter in the background so you knew she was out with friends or out doing something and it made you feel even worse to ask her for help.

"Hi, Leight." You say softly, pushing your fingertips into your eyes trying to build up the courage to ask her. "Can you help me, please?"

"Help you?" She sounds concerned and you hear a door close behind her, all of the noise fading away. "What's going on?"

"I need-I need, fuck!" You try, the words feeling almost impossible to get out. "I need to go to the emergency room, I think." You finally get out, blinking hard to keep your brain working.

"Emergency room? What's going on? Where are you?"

"Please, Leighton. I'm at the blue house on the edge of campus. You know the one." You rub your palm against your forehead. "Can you please just come get me."

"Yeah. I know the one." Of course she did. Everyone knows the blue fucking house. It's literally nicknamed the druggie house on campus. There's only one reason people went there. Her voice sounded monotone and she was definitely connecting some dots. "I'm coming, I'm not far away." She hangs up on you before you can even tell her goodbye and you just feel her disappointment radiating through the phone.

It was less than ten minutes when you saw a familiar car pull up.

Leighton stepped out of the passenger side and as soon as the door closed, the window was rolling down to reveal Whitney in the drivers seat.

"Are you kidding me, Leighton." You complained as she rushed over to help you.

"Shut up." Whitney said from the driver's side, rolling her eyes at you.

"Fuck you!" You spat at her, letting Leighton help pull you to your feet.

"No, fuck you! What the hell is wrong with you?" You stayed silent because you didn't have an answer to her question. "That's what I fucking thought. Now get in the car."

Leighton sat in the back with you, letting you lay your head on her lap. She hasn't said a single word to you since she picked you up and you don't know if it was the drugs or the anxiety caused by her silence that was making your heart race the way it was.

Your body was sore and your head ached. You turned so you could bury your face in her sweater, inhaling the smell of her. She massaged your scalp, pulling you closer to her body.

Whitney dropped you both off at the front door and said to call her when you needed to be picked up. She sounded a lot nicer now, but she was also talking to Leighton.

You weren't feeling great at all and you definitely had the fear that whatever dosage that girl gave you was wearing off and you were going to die in the waiting room of this fucking hospital.

Leighton helped bring you to the front desk. You declined her offer of a wheelchair because something about that just felt degrading. Having to have her push you because of something you did to yourself?

Falling to the ground and crawling would be less embarrassing.

The woman at the desk greeted you and asked what was going on and you hesitated. Because even though Leighton probably figured shit out by now, you never said it out loud.

Saying it out loud would finally be admitting that you had a problem, which is why you've avoided it for so long.

"I-um-I-" both Leighton and the lady at the desk with the patience of a saint watch you fiddle nervously with the pen attached to a chain. "I am not feeling too great. I was given narcan maybe thirty minutes ago." You were blinking rapidly trying to get through your sentence, the fluorescent lighting and the pounding headache was making your brain short circuit.

The lady at the desk sat up quickly, asking you for your ID and insurance card, asking someone behind her to call for a nurse. You pulled your wallet from your pocket and Leighton had to help you pull the cards out because your hands were shaking and you just couldn't do it.

A male nurse appeared out of nowhere with a rolling blood pressure cuff and asked you to follow him to the triage area.

"What about my stuff?" You ask, letting this man escort you to a little area.

"I've got it, baby." Leighton said calmly, a few steps behind you, shoving your ID back into your wallet that she was still holding.

You sat down in a chair with your feet planted firmly on the floor like instructed and you felt like this firm wooden chair was consuming you.

He slipped the blood pressure cuff on your arm, the stethoscope planted firmly in the center of your arm. His eyes never left you while he asked you some questions.

"Do you know how many doses of the narcan you received?"

"Just one." You say and he nods.

"What did you take?" He asks, making eye contact with you and waiting for your response.

You swallowed and looked up at Leighton, who was waiting at you expectantly to answer.

"I don't know. It wasn't from my usual person. My friend that got it for me said it would be the same and it wasn't. I took less than what I normally would." You admit and it sounds embarrassing to even say something like that. You just hope he doesn't ask you-

"How much do you normally take? How much did you take of these?"

"Um, four to five 10mg Percocet. I only took two of these."

"Okay." He nods and the machine starts to beep. He removes the cuff from your arm and motions to someone behind you. "We are going to take you back now, okay? Your blood pressure is too low." He said while he and Leighton help you stand up and you were mortified to find them leading you to a wheelchair.

"Yeah, okay." You nod and when you sit you look back between Leighton and the nurse with a panicked expression. "Can she come back with me?"

"Of course." He takes hold of the wheelchair and takes you to a double door, pressing the button and leading you and Leighton through a maze of curtained rooms before bringing you to an open bed.

As soon as your butt hit that bed, two nurses were rushing in one was hooking you up to different machines and pulling down your shirt to stick electrodes on your chest to monitor your heart.

Before you could even process anything, your bed was being lowered and you were laying flat on your back and the second nurse was giving you a second dose of narcan up your nostrils while the first nurse finally explained to you and Leighton what the fuck was going on.

She said that narcan is usually done in two or more doses and that it often wears off before the effects of the pills do. That because you only received one dose, you were already showing the signs of the first dose wearing off and going into another potential overdose.

You didn't even have time to panic or freak out. They had the narcan up your nose and had you sitting back up like it never even happened. Leighton nodding with wide eyes from the chair next to you and trying to absorb what the nurse was saying.

You gripped the bridge of your nose and squinted your eyes while the nurse finished speaking, already starting to feel better.

"We are going to keep you here for a couple of hours just for monitoring." She rolls a little tray over to your bed that has a needle, test tubes, and a tourniquet. All the makings for getting your blood drawn. "We are required to do a toxicology screening on you, especially since you do not know what you took." She slips on a new pair of gloves. "These results will not be shared with the university." She reassured when she saw your face drop. "Arm out."

She cleaned your arm with an alcohol pad and tied the elastic tourniquet around your arm, pressing on your veins to find a vein. She inserts the needle in your arm and you watch the multiple vials fill up. She removes the tourniquet, has you hold a cotton ball where the needle went in and slaps a bandaid over it. She cleans up the area and says she'll be back shortly and walks out without saying another word.

Leighton had been silent the entire time. She was holding your things and sitting on the chair next to your bed watching the monitor with all off your vitals. Her eyes looked glassed over and you didn't know what to say or how to even begin to say it.

"Thanks for coming with me." You say pitifully and her eyes dart from the monitor to look over at you.

"I feel so stupid." She says, shaking her head. "Everything is like, making sense now, you know? The missed dates, the weird behavior, the angry outbursts." She nods her head, almost like she was agreeing with her own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry."

"And then you take shit that you don't even know what it is and- and you fucking overdose? What if you fucking died, Y/N?" She sounds so angry, but you can see she's on the verge of tears. You reach for her, touching her arm and she yanks herself away from you. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Then fucking go if you don't want to stay." You say, staring up at the ceiling, blinking back tears.

"Stop."

"I should've just let myself die on the curb of that stupid fucking house." You slammed your head against the pillow, the machines beeping like crazy for a brief moment.

"Can you just shut the fuck up with that self deprecating shit?" She spits, crossing her arms and legs.

She's very closed off and distant now. It almost felt like you could feel her distancing herself from you in real time. There's an awkward silence between the two of you and you reach for her.

"Leighton..."

"Mmmh mmmh." She shakes her head no, keeping her attention focused on her phone

"Baby." You try again and when her fingers pause over the phone screen you know you're getting somewhere. "Please, baby."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, giving you her attention.

"What."

"I'm really sorry." You say sincerely, playing with the edge of the flimsy hospital blanket.

"For...?" There was no hint of emotion to her voice. But in scenarios like this, Leighton was always good at shutting down and putting her walls up.

"For how I've been treating you. For a lot of things."

"If that's all you're going to say, that's a really shitty fucking apology."

"No! Of course that's not all. I-fuck. Okay. Just give me a second to collect my thoughts."

"Well, maybe if you weren't high on god knows what you'd be able to give me a less pathetic apology."

Maybe it was your high wearing off, maybe it was just the drugs in general, but man for the briefest moment you wanted to cuss her out.

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose in an attempt to remain calm.

"If you let me fucking finish talking maybe you'll be more than the pathetic apology." You say through gritted teeth and she just raises her eyebrows at you expectantly. "I fucked up, okay? I know that. I didn't mean for it to get this bad." You admit and she tilts her head, her gaze visibly softening.

"What do you mean?" She scoots the hospital chair closer to your bed.

"I got the meds originally when I messed up my knee. It freaked me out about if I would get to play again or not. When I got back into it, it was great, but I fucking sucked and there was this insane amount of pressure to be as good as I was before my injury. There still is that pressure. My knee just felt tight all the time. Like it was about to snap at any moment. I did the physical therapy, the ice baths, I did everything. Well, everything but admit that maybe it's just straight up fucked." You look down and begin to pick at on your fingertips. Leighton reaches forward to stop you and instead you press your thumb against one of her manicured nails, enjoying the feeling of the pinpricking pressure against your fingertip.

"Keep going, baby." She encourages softly and you could feel yourself relax.

"I refilled my final prescription for my meds right before I started playing again. I would ration the bottle and take them after games and stuff. Then I took them during a game and realized I could play pretty damn good and my leg felt fantastic. Well, until afterwards when it felt worse than ever. Turns out if you take meds to prevent pain, it's really difficult to gauge when you're pushing yourself too far. So I would take some meds before the game, during the game, then again after the games..." Leighton opens her mouth to speak, but you continue with your thought. "...And then one or two more before bed."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." She says, sounding both shocked and horrified. "I don't even...how long-how many? I don't know! I'm trying not to ask my question without sounding like a dick." She admits and looks to you for some guidance.

You don't know her exact question, but you can guess where she was going with it.

"It was supposed to be refill that lasted three months and finished it in like a month. Maybe a month in a half if I want to be generous. They were a low-ish doses, so I would take more."

"How many were you supposed to take a day? How many did you take?" She asked her questions in a quick succession.

"I was supposed to take one, max two, a day." She nodded and raised her eyebrows expectantly. "I was taking like four to six."

"I-what?! You know what," she takes a deep breath to calm herself down. "Let me approach this in a non-judgmental way. I just, I really want to know what happened to escalate the situation and bring us where we are now." She squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"So my prescription runs out and I find a connect when I go to one of the parties at the blue house. I got pills from him for a while, but you would not believe how expensive opioids are." You tried to joke, only when you looked up to see Leighton was not laughing, not even cracking a smile, you quickly cleared your throat and got serious. "After DJ died in the house, I starting using more and it was just getting more expe-"

"Wait what? The guy that overdosed in the house, you were his friend?"

"I, well, yes. But I was also...there. I called the ambulance when I found him." You could feel everything else coming out like word vomit. "I introduced him to Liza, who introduced him to drugs." You clenched your jaw, trying to swallow down the breakdown you've been keeping at bay for over a month now. "I killed him, Leighton. It's my fault he's dead." You look up at her tearfully and when Leighton frowns and calls you 'baby', you fucking lose it.

She stands up and pulls your face from your hands. The machines attached to you are beeping rapidly for who knows what fucking reason and it was pissing you off.

"Get these off of me." You say mid sob, attempting to pull the electrodes of your chest, yanking at the wires and your shirt blindly. "Get these fucking off!"

Leighton was fighting your arms at this point, doing her best to keep your arms still. Your brain could comprehend that you were smacking her unintentionally, hitting her arms, her hands, and her chest. You felt like your body was stuck between fight and flight right now. You felt out of control in every aspect, mentally and physically. You wanted to stop, you wanted to calm down, you just literally could not.

Within seconds two nurses came in and Leighton held your arms until one of the nurses took her place. Her absence felt more upsetting and agitating, so you attempted to reach for her. Your throat felt raw from crying and now you were screaming for Leighton, begging her to help you.

You gripped a nurses arm tightly, your face smushed against her scrubs while you watched Leighton's horrified expression as the two nurses turned you on your side. One of them pulled your pants down on one side and inject a tranquilizer into your ass cheek.

You gasped and squeezed the nurses arm, mortified about what happened and that it happened in front of Leighton. You were also both shocked and impressed at how quickly your heart rate was going down.

You also felt absolutely terrible for the tears and snot you were getting on this poor nurse's scrubs. Going back and forth between pitifully apologizing to her and to Leighton while the meds kicked in.

You could feel your arms getting heavy and the nurses began to lay you on your back again. The one you were gripping for dear life was covering you with a blanket and you can over hear the one that injected your ass trying to talk Leighton through what she just witnessed.

Something about it being normal behavior when coming off a lot of drugs so suddenly. You don't fucking know.

What you do know is Leighton looked pale and traumatized and that it was absolutely your fucking fault.

You reached for her. Desperately trying to tell her that you loved her. That you're in love with her and that you were so fucking sorry.

She looked at you confused, holding your hand and telling you she couldn't understand what you were saying. You could feel yourself getting riled up mentally, but your body felt stuck. Like gum to the bottom of a fucking shoe you were stuck and locked into this bed.

The nurses left and she pulled her chair close to your bed again, her hand never letting go of yours while she did. She sat in front of you, calling you baby, pushing hair from your face, and telling you that it was okay and to just close your eyes for a little bit.

You moaned and whined, tears sliding down your cheeks. They matched the ones streaming down Leighton's and you wanted you kiss them away. Instead she wiped your tears and begged you not to cry, her lips pressed against the side of your head.

You closed your eyes, Leighton's lips against your temple while she whispered calming things in your ear.

---

You woke up confused. You had a hospital gown on over your shirt and pants, and you were also pretty sure you were in a different room.

"Water?" You croak, your mouth dryer than nothing you have ever experienced before.

"Here." Came a voice next to you that was most definitely not Leighton.

You turn your head to the side to see Whitney holding a styrofoam cup with a straw and you push yourself to sit up straight, blinking and wiping away the dried up tears and sleep gunk from your eyes.

You hesitate at first, but you take the cup from her. You drink the cool ice water down like your life depended on it.

"Thank you." You tell her when you finished drinking, breathing heavily like a toddler after they downed some juice. You look around the room for any signs of Leighton, finding none. You try not to panic, but the machine measuring your hate rate gives you away.

"She'll be back. I sent her home a bit ago to change into different clothes and get something to eat." Whitney informs you, setting the water on the little table. She stands up and goes to the sink, wetting a small stack of those thin paper towels with warm water and wiping your face and mouth. You could feel your dried spit and snot come off with ease. You closed your eyes while she wiped your face, too tired to feel embarrassed. "Better?" She asks you, patting your face with a dry paper towel when she was done.

You nod your head yes, settling further into the bed.

"How long was I out?" You stare at the analog clock on the wall, but it doesn't help much since you didn't even know the time you came in or were knocked out at.

"Maybe seven hours? It's been a while. They said it could range from like six to twelve hours." You nod, staring at your covered feet. You can feel yourself checking out mentally, but Whitney talking again brings you back to earth. "Leighton filled me in, I hope that's okay."

"Mhmm, yeah." You shrugged and nodded, trying to hide your shame over the fact that another person knows this about you now.

"Why didn't you say anything to anyone?" She was soft with her approach, but there was a thin layer of assertiveness underneath.

"Well, Whitney, the thing about having a drug problem is you don't really fucking realize you have a drug problem until you end up in a hospital and get a needle shoved into your ass cheek. Or, maybe it's when a girl that injects meth between her toes gets pissy for using her Narcan on you. Gee, I just can't decide." You say sarcastically and Whitney's face hardens slightly.

"Okay, I get it." She says defensively, sitting back in the chair to lean away from you. You sigh and attempt to run a hand through your hair, but it's all matted and sweaty.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." You say quietly. "I thought I had a handle on it, okay? I didn't think it was a problem." You admit, nodding your head as you thought to yourself. "Clearly." You vaguely gesture to yourself laid up in a hospital bed and Whitney nods.

"Everything is starting to make sense though. Your behaviors, your angry outbursts, the way you treated Leighton."

You wince at that last one. You treated her horribly the last like eight months and you knew that.

It was such a weird feeling. To love someone so deeply and be unable to stop yourself from absolutely wrecking them and treating them like shit.

"Yeah, I've been told already things are adding up. Glad I could provide some clarity." You give her a tight lipped smile and a weak thumbs up.

"You're awake!"

You look up to see Leighton coming into the room, a little visitor badge pinned to her hoodie. You nod, looking up at her with a smile. Your eyes start to water, something about seeing her just hitting you with the overwhelming urge to cry because you were so fucking happy she came back.

You open your arms for her and she sets her purse down to rush to your side and give you a hug. You wrap your arms around her and hold her tightly, pressing your lips wherever you could.

A knock at the door caused her to pull away. She took the extra seat on the other side of your bed as the doctor came in and greeted you, washing his hands.

He did an overall exam on you. Checked your mouth, your eyes, listening to your heart and lungs. He pulled his stool up to your bed and rested a folder of paperwork by your feet.

"So, we got your blood results back. It's routine to drug test in these situations. The school will not be informed of the results." He reassured you like the nurse did previously. "Now," he opens the packet of papers to a specific page where numbers are highlighted. "You have a decent amount in your system. I'm sure that's something you're aware of." You nod and he continues. "We do not think you overdosed on the pills themselves. Not to say that means you should go out and keep slamming them back."

The three of you made a face at him, unsure if his comment was meant to lighten the mood or if he was just a dick.

"So what's the problem then?" Whitney speaks up and he clears his throat.

"Well, you have a dangerous amount of fentanyl in your system. Whatever you took was most likely laced. Had you taken the four pills you said you normally took, you would probably be dead. Here are some packets about fentanyl as well as some inpatient and outpatient treatments for opioid addiction, and some information about methadone." He sets about five pamphlets in the open space between your legs and stands up, pushing his chair back in. "The nurse is going to come in with your discharge paperwork. Schedule an appointment with your PCP. Have a good day ladies." He sanitizes his hands and leaves the room, leaving the three of you looking confused and dumbfounded.

"That was it?" Leighton asks after he leaves, clearly frustrated. She reaches forward and grabs the pamphlets off your legs and thumbs through them furiously. "You almost fucking die apparently and that's it? You go the fuck home? What the fuck."

"Leighton, please stop." You say calmly, but she was pacing the room now while she read.

"This methadone seems good. I can call my dad and get you into a good rehab. Inpatient or out." She says while reading through the pamphlets and you start feeling overwhelmed.

Of course you wanted to be better and to stop taking the pills.

But the thought of actually doing it scared the shit out of you.

"Can I please just go home first and figure this out later?" You ask, scratching your eyebrow.

"Yes," Whitney says and looks up and Leighton sternly. "Yes, you can." She says, answering for Leighton.

"I have one request." Leighton says, shoving the pamphlets into her purse before sitting at the edge of your bed. "Please stay with us for a bit. A few days, a week. However long. Just please do it, okay?"

You nodded your head. You knew you scared her, no, fucking traumatized her. She was looking at you right now like she wanted to cry. Like if you told her no she would probably burst into tears.

You couldn't tell her no. You couldn't do this to her again. You definitely couldn't do anything to risk losing her.

"Yes, I'll stay with you. Can I stop at my room at get some clothes?"

"Absolutely. Can I go in with you when you do?"

You hesitated. You thought about the state of your side of the room. You definitely weren't as clean as you used to be. You most definitely had been slacking on doing your laundry and the thought of her going in there and seeing your gross, crusty underwear made you want to flip.

You still agreed though and she kissed your cheek. She went to kiss your lips and you turned your head.

"My mouth feels disgusting. More kissing later?"

"Deal." She nods, sneaking a quick peck onto your lips anyway.

There was a knock on the door and a nurse stepped in holding some paperwork.

"Alrighty, Y/N. Let's get you outta here, hun."

---

You rushed into your dorm, quickly picking up dirty clothes from the floor and tossing them in your hamper, picking up trash and shoving it aside.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." You apologize profusely for the state of your room.

"No, don't. It's okay." Leighton says, taking in the space.

She hadn't been allowed into your room for a while. Usually when she would come over it would be spotless and smell like air fresher. It was a complete 180 from what she was used to.

You could almost see her absorbing in the gravity of your addiction. As if almost OD'ing on laced pills, blowing off her dates, and having frequent mood swings weren't enough. She was getting a first hand view of how little you had been taking care of yourself because of it.

Something about that felt more shameful than anything. You felt vulnerable and exposed. You had been caught putting on a show and now all the curtains were being pulled back to expose the complex layers of your addiction. Exposing problems that you didn't even realize were becoming problems until someone you love is watching you scramble to clean it up.

"I just need to get some clean clothes." You say, opening your drawers and finding them to be pretty bare. "Fuck." You whisper to yourself.

"Why don't you bring some dirty clothes with you and we can do laundry at my dorm. Okay, baby?"

"Um, y-yeah." You blink hard, slamming your drawer shut. You open another and are thankful to find a handful of clean underwear. You pull them out and shove them into the bag Leighton had set on your bed. "Can you get me some shirts from my closet? I'll gather my dirty clothes."

"Of course." She turns around to look through your closet.

You grabbed a garbage bag and began picking clothes off the floor, plucking clothes from your hamper and other various surfaces around the room, shoving them into the trash bag. When a bunch of change falls out of one of your pockets you sigh, going back into the bag and digging through the pockets of any pants and shorts you shoved in there to make sure those were empty before you continued.

You picked up a pair of sweatpants, digging your hand into the pocket and freezing when you felt something sharp-ish poke your fingertips.

It was almost like you could hear angels singing when you pull the item from your pocket. A small baggie with three little blue pills in it. Three pills that you most definitely recognized and knew they would be safe. You traced your thumb over them, licking your lips.

"Do you want this sweater, babe?" Leighton asks from the closet behind you and you briefly turn around to face her.

"Yes, that's perfect, baby." You tell her. You weren't even looking at the sweater.

You had look at her face. Feeling guilty about everything that went down. Feeling guilty about all the time and energy she was probably going to put in to taking care of you.

You knew the best thing to do right now would be to hand the pills over. It would be the responsible thing.

You wanted to be responsible.

You grip the small baggie in your hand tightly and scratch under your nose with the back of your hand, thinking of the way you were going to hand the baggie over.

You open your palm again to stare at the pills, your hand shaking. You look around the room one more time, turning to smile at Leighton while she had a few shirts and sweaters draped over her arm for you.

You wanted to be responsible, just maybe not today.

You clear your throat, shoving the pills into the deepest corner of your front pocket.

[kaijuno]

You can find this vending machine outside the Douglas County offices (1111 South 41st Street), Omaha, NE. The vending machine has the following free items:

Free pregnancy tests

Free condoms

Free HIV tests

Free fentanyl test strips

Free Narcan

Free personal hygiene items

Totally discreet and anonymous

[thefiresontheheight]

ah. yes. lie to the people who need information of what’s in someone’s body to save their life. great take as always

Hypothetical 1: You find someone in a bus shelter. You, as an educated responder, monitor their breathing, fail to observe any, attempt to rouse them with a nail bed press, no response. You administer nasal naloxone spray. While doing so you observe a needle cap falling from their pocket. They still do not begin responding or breathing. You begin giving good quality rescue breaths, while also calling 911 and putting them on speaker. Good for you.

Now, while on the phone with 911 do you tell them “hey, there’s someone here who is not breathing and is nonresponsive” or do you tell them “hey, I think there’s an overdose”? If the first then congrats! You have accurately reported your medical emergency and observed symptoms, continue to administer rescue breaths until first responders arrive or until the person begins to respond.

But, if the latter, consider that you are now in most jurisdictions in America guaranteeing a police response to that person. Because there will be a police response and because of deeply internalized prejudiced against people who use in America the response will be longer. If that person does have warrants or is on parole or probation you ma have fucked their life, all while not even being sure of what may or may not be in their body.

Hypothetical 2: You, a committed harm reductionist, are with someone while they are using. Prior to use they test their supply, and the test strips show that the sample is positive for fentanyl and xylazine. The person decided to administer anyway, but then some time later becomes unresponsive, you respond as above. After the second dose of narcan, as you agreed with your friend, you call 911. Same choice.

If you tell the 911 dispatcher your friend is nonresponsive and not breathing they will send EMTs, while EMTs are at the scene you can THEN tell them what substances may be in your friends body. You have accurately reported the symptoms and generated a response for your friend. You, as the empowered harm reductionist you are, did not merely wait for an ambulance, but in addition to disclosing what your friend used as you had told them they would, but you also administered nasal naloxone and rescue breathing while waiting for first responders.

Or maybe you told 911 dispatch your friend OD’d, in which case, again, longer wait times and a way higher risk of carceral responses.

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

This was towards the end of the night. Initially, all of the zines were on queer subjects. Also had free lube (those aren't condoms), stickers, Slingshot organizers, and fentanyl test strips available. As always, free.