After his son’s overdose | Democratizing naloxone: a father’s fight

It was a man who was not broken, but galvanized, that I met on Friday in the offices of the organization Spectre de rue.

A man on a mission: to save lives, one naloxone kit at a time.

The family tragedy of Christian Boivin moved all of Quebec last January. His eldest son, Mathis, 15, died of an overdose three days before Christmas. The teenager thought he had swallowed an oxycodone pill bought on the black market, but it was actually isotonitazene, also called “toni,” an opioid more powerful than fentanyl.

Read our report “Opioids are becoming more powerful”

Mathis took the pill, went to bed, and never woke up.^⁠1.

There is a very effective antidote to prevent deaths from opioid overdoses: naloxone. It has been available free of charge in all pharmacies in Quebec since 2017, and in several community organizations such as Spectre de rue.

But here’s the thing: naloxone remains surrounded by a huge taboo. It is associated with the “poked” on the street, while the opioid crisis strikes indiscriminately in all walks of life and all social classes.

Many people are hesitant to get it for themselves or their loved ones. Even fewer know how to administer it.

Christian Boivin wants to change all that.

The father has a key ally to help him carry his message: Manon Massé, from Québec solidaire, MNA for Sainte-Marie–Saint-Jacques.

The politician was struck straight to the heart by the Boivins’ story. She called Christian a few months after the tragedy to make him an offer: to build a bridge.

“People know that I have a special connection with people on the street, that I know their challenges well, I’m tagged like that,” she explains. “And Christian represents the ordinary family that has been affected in an indescribable way. I contacted him to say: are we doing something together to try to break the stigma around consumers?”

Manon Massé invited Christian Boivin to the offices of the organization Spectre de rue, in the heart of her riding, on Ontario Street. Her proposal: to take a training course together on the use of naloxone, which I also attended.

I’ll tell you right away: it’s as easy as pie. It’s administered nasally or by intramuscular injection, and you’ll find the procedure at the bottom of this column.^⁠2.

The drug has been around for a long time and is very effective. Its use is increasing: 31,438 “kits” were handed out to pharmacies last year in Quebec, compared to 23,381 the year before.

But several obstacles still prevent too many people from obtaining it.

One obstacle, and it is probably the main one, concerns confidentiality. Naloxone can easily be obtained in pharmacies from the age of 14, but in most cases, you must properly identify yourself.

Many people, I’ve been told, decide not to get it for this reason. They absolutely do not want their private insurer, or the Régie de l’assurance maladie du Québec, or their doctor to know that they have obtained naloxone.

They fear – rightly or wrongly – being registered as drug addicts, with all the consequences that this could entail.

Which brings me back to the crusade of Christian Boivin and Manon Massé.

They propose to set up anonymous distribution channels for those who would like to discreetly obtain the antidote for themselves or their loved ones. This would undoubtedly help to democratize its use.

Naloxone kits, which contain either inhalers or syringes, or a combination of the two, should also be available in many more public places, they argue.

Arenas, schools, businesses: you name it.

In this regard, Christian Boivin makes a very concrete proposal, which would seriously deserve to be studied.

Expanding access to naloxone would make sense because there are no harmful consequences to its administration, even if the suspected overdose is not caused by opioids.

It saves lives if that’s the case, but it doesn’t hurt if it isn’t. Pure prevention.

On this International Overdose Awareness Day, the phenomenon will be discussed a lot in the media this weekend. Christian Boivin believes that we should talk about it more often, and on a much larger scale.

“I watch TV, I listen to the radio, and right now, there’s a government campaign on all-terrain vehicle safety,” he told me. “It’s serious, of course, when a young person dies in an ATV accident, but there are a few dozen of them a year. There were 586 overdose deaths in Quebec last year! Why don’t we run a campaign?”

Christian Boivin will never know if a better understanding of opioids could have helped him save Mathis, his older teenager who liked to experiment with drugs. But he is convinced that other lives could – and should – be saved if we finally opened up a dialogue about the risks of overdose.

“I told Mathis, ‘Don’t take chemicals.’ That was the message I had as a father, informed as best I could. But today, if I had to talk to Mathis, I would tell him, ‘If you take something, you’re numb, you fall asleep, you have trouble breathing, or it happens to your friend, call an adult. Call 911. No one is going to blame you. Don’t be ashamed.’ That’s also what we need to convey as a message.”

1. Read the column “Teenager dies of overdose ‘I was three meters away from him, in the house’”

2. Consult the procedure for administering naloxone on the INSPQ website