Today, August 24 2017 marks the one year anniversary of when I started the #IAM911 movement. In this episode we will take a look back at why I started it, the explosion, media coverage and the future of the movement. It has been one hell of a year and I thank all of you for the support. I may have started this but it is because of the entire Thin Gold Line that made it a global success.
If you have any comments, questions or you would like to be a guest on the show send an email to email@example.com.
Episode topics –
- Medical recap
- A look back at episode 114
- #IAM911 explosion
- Media coverage
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By Ricardo — 6 years ago
June 19 2012, Governor Rick Snyder signed four bills that would ban synthetic drugs. This would include Spice, K2, and Bath Salts. But what took so long for the powers-that-be in Michigan to finally decide that enough was enough? HuffPost Detroit states that, “after local protests and several tragedies linked to ‘synthetic marijuana,’ Michigan Gov. Rick Snyder announced he will sign into law a package that would ban K2, Spice and other synthetic drugs including “bath salts.” One said protest was held in the city of Zeeland where two moms organized a protest in front of a local business that was carrying the product.
The tragedies surrounding the drugs included an incident in Miami, Fla. that made national news when bath salts, according to nbcsandiego.com, had “been linked to behavior behind multiple attacks that some have labeled ‘zombie apocalypse’.” Locally the incidents involved fatal overdoses and murder. According to HuffPost Detroit, “several tragedies, including a Bloomfield Township teen’s reported fatal overdose on synthetic marijuana and its alleged involvement in the case of Tucker Cipriano, who is charged with murdering his father.”
On the streets, police officers were left to battle an unregulated drug. Detective John Paul Damveld, drug investigator for the West Michigan Enforcement Team responded to Jabber Log in an email stating, “My opinion is that they have a larger reaction to these drugs, which usually causes hallucinations. One occasion led to a motor vehicle crash involving no injuries but both occupants believed they were severely hurt.”
While it was reported by mlive.com that a bill spearheaded by Lowell Republican Sen. Dave Hildenbrand was sent to the “state House for consideration,” a local outcry, as reported by HuffPost Detroit, “caused communities to enact their own bans and protest gas stations where the drugs were being sold.” With all this going on, one would ask why it took so long to pass a law banning synthetic drugs? In a recent interview with Jabber Log, Allegan County Sheriff’s Deputy Morgan Sullivan stated,
“Because these are synthetic drugs, lawmakers would make drug 1403-7 (a bath salt) illegal, so the manufacturers would simply change a molecule in 1403-8 maintaining the same effect but 1403-8 isn’t illegal. You know how long it takes to pass a law? Lawmakers couldn’t keep up.”
With a ban finally in place, mlive.com reported, “smoke shops, party stores, and gas stations in Michigan are clearing the products off their shelves.” In order to keep storeowners on the right side of the law, mlive.com reported, “The Michigan State Police has launched the “K2 is not OK” campaign to warn store owners that selling spice or bath salts will be illegal July 1. Distribution of the drugs carries a 7-year felony penalty under the new law.” How banning synthetic drugs will impact local communities is unknown but the main factor, according to Dep. Sullivan, is the risk.
“If there is someone that wants to use it, you can bet there will be someone ready to profit from it. On the plus side, most of the danger from those listed drugs was their accessibility. The deterrent now is the fact that you have to be willing to take much more of a risk to make it, sell it, buy it, and use it.”Post Views: 125
By Ricardo — 1 year ago
Guest blog post by Shae, 9-1-1 dispatcher out of central Indiana
This smile hurts my face.
I sit around the table for an early Christmas dinner, quietly wondering if anyone has noticed that my smile isn’t real. I’m having trouble faking. Family and extended family are all talking at once and it’s sensory overload.
I excuse myself and sit in the living room with the kids, realizing I have more in common with them than anyone my age – we’re both not interested in “grown up” talk. The houses, the cars, the material goods – they talk about their good fortune and maybe brag a little. And I sit there wondering what families aren’t as fortunate as theirs.
I’m not trying to be a snob, I just don’t have things in common with them anymore. The houses, the cars, the material goods. I’ve come to despise holidays, for the runs I’ve been on and the calls I’ve taken. Years as a medic and now a dispatcher too, my life’s mission to serve the people has cast a gloomier view on these holiday events.
That house we passed on the way to the store is where I’ve told a husband his wife of 60 years is gone. Those crosses by the bridge are where I watched a family of four die – unable to get to them quickly enough. The bag boy loading our Christmas groceries is spending another holiday without his mother – I know, I took his call.
The nightmares I have will never end, I’ve been invited into some of the most intimate moments in people’s lives. I’ve seen pain and suffering, taking it home with me to nestle in bed, awake and scared that their fate will become my own. Worried that what’s worse, it will eventually stop effecting me and that’s when I’ll know it’s time to hang it up.
I’ve got PTSD. Those four letters are hard to say. I’ve spent time afraid that if I say it out loud, someone will question me why – and they do. I feel shame, like what I have I didn’t deserve. They think PTSD is for soldiers, and I’m just a dispatcher. I can’t begin to explain it so I shrug my shoulders and walk away, knowing that someone else’s pain and suffering is now a part of me as a person and I can’t begin to make sense of it for them.
Family gatherings like this are exhausting, for the well meaning but always annoying questions about work, about my worst call. They want to live through me, feel a thrill of a life saved but most of the stories that I carry around aren’t happy ones. No one really wants to know unless it’s a happy one. So I make something up, hoping that it will satisfy them for the moment, and it does. I can go back to sitting at the kids table, content in their chatter.
I look forward to being able to go home, and just be by myself. My own demons feel like better company sometimes. They’re familiar at least. I know what to expect. It’s not that I don’t love my family, I just can’t make them understand and that feels more exhausting to me.
So I smile, nod my head and sit there quietly just waiting to go home.Post Views: 167