Posts Tagged ‘diversion of methadone’

Revoking Methadone Take Home Doses

 

 

 

(The information presented has been changed to protect patient identity.)

Last week, staff at our opioid treatment program had a lively discussion about take home doses for a patient on methadone. She’s been in treatment for several years and was on take home level five, meaning she dosed on premises once per week and was given six take home doses. We needed to talk about revoking her take home levels because she was recently arrested for sale of a Schedule II narcotic.

The news of her arrest surprised us. She passed several bottle recalls, which is when we call a patient and give them twenty-four hours to return to the opioid treatment program with their take homes, so we can inspect them to make sure they haven’t been taken early or tampered with in any way. We do this because the state and federal regulations demand it and because it’s good practice. It’s like pill and film counts done by pain clinic providers and office-based buprenorphine providers. She hadn’t failed any of our bottle recalls.

As a treatment team, we discussed her situation at case staffing. (Twice a week, the nurses, counselors, and doctor meet to talk about the needs of newly admitted patients and the progress of other patients, among other things. We also discuss patient who are ready to advance in their treatment and get more take home doses, and those who aren’t managing their home doses as well as we’d like.)

Unfortunately, the patient in question had her picture published in the local paper along with an article describing her alleged criminal misdeeds. Both state and federal regulations say patients enrolled in opioid treatment programs aren’t allowed to receive take home doses if there is “recent criminal activity.” I suppose the officials think that if the patient is involved in criminal activity, there’s a risk the patient could sell take home medication on the street.

I understand this reasoning. And if the patient is accused of selling drugs, I don’t want to provide the patient with a drug they can sell.

But this regulation raises all sorts of questions. What constitutes criminal activity? Does driving to the treatment program without a license count as criminal activity? And what’s “recent”? Last week or last month would count to me, but what about a charge from two years ago that’s just come to trial?

And are we talking about criminal convictions only? Or is being arrested enough proof the person has been committing crimes? Sometimes criminal charges are dropped after more investigation.

What is the standard of proof that we need to use? Is an arrest alone enough to say the patient is engaging in criminal activity? Most patients, when confronted, insist that they have been set up by another person and that they don’t usually sell drugs, but were pressured to do so by a police informant who is trying to reduce their own legal woes.

I know this happens. Local police do use the people they’ve caught selling drugs to try to set up other people to do drug buys in order to charge them too. But if they allow themselves to participate in sales, that means they broke the law.

In my patient’s case, I was worried she had sold her methadone take homes. Eventually, she brought in a copy of paperwork she had been given by the police, and it appeared she’d been arrested for the sale of a handful of oxycodone pills.

But as her counselor said during case staffing, being charged isn’t the same as being convicted, and isn’t a person considered innocent until proven guilty? Another staff member said that applied to the criminal justice system, when a person may be denied their freedom, but in an opioid treatment program that standard of proof wouldn’t apply.

It’s a thorny issue. Patients must wait months to get take home doses, and after they’ve earned them, are extremely disappointed to have them revoked. I understand this; people need to plan their time, and dosing at the opioid treatment program claims time they could spend doing something else.

Some people will ask what’s the big deal? What’s a little more methadone on the street compared to the deadly fentanyl that’s covering the nation? It is a big deal to me, because methadone has (as Dr. Wartenburg says), “No sense of humor.” It’s easy to overdose and die with methadone because of its very long half-life. People take a little methadone, don’t feel much, take more, and by the time they feel a euphoria, they’ve taken a fatal dose.

It’s a dangerous drug to have on the street.

What if the patient were on buprenorphine instead of methadone? Since it is a considerably safer drug, would I still revoke take homes? In this situation, yes.

Opioid treatment programs want to keep our patients alive and to help them lead their best lives. And we also have an obligation to our communities to be good citizens. We don’t want to promote the black market use of any drug, and diverted buprenorphine, though safer than methadone, can still kill an opioid-naïve person or a child

When this patient was told that we were revoking levels, she blew up with rage. She felt she was being treated very unfairly, since no one had proven she’d done anything wrong. We tried to tell her this is a state regulation, but that didn’t help much. She said some choice words about our program, and they weren’t positive in nature.

After a few days, she’d cooled down some. She wasn’t happy, but she has dosed with us daily because she had no other choices.

Now she’s been at take home level one for over a month, dosing with us on site every day except Sunday. She wants her take home level back and I’m not willing to approve any more take home doses yet.

Some of the staff thought that was too harsh, and that she ought to be given a second chance. Other staff members agreed with me that it was too early for more take homes. What had changed, after all? She still didn’t see anything wrong with her behavior and blamed other people for her criminal charges.

I do listen to staff’s thoughts and opinions, but in the end the decision is mine. I need a good understanding of regulations, mixed in with common sense and compassion – for both the patient and our community. These are difficult decisions.