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METHADONE MADNESS

Long-term addict Martin Wijnen
Long-term addict Martin Wijnen tells Amanda Elliot why he thinks HIV positive drug users have been conned by methadone maintenance programmes



Before the advent of highly active anti-retroviral therapy (HAART), HIV positive people were lucky if they got tea and sympathy and the occasional massage. If you were an injecting drug user in the UK you may even have been offered ‘harm reduction’ options: clean works from needle exchanges or methadone to help you kick the heroin. Over the years some people lived, some died, and some managed to get clean. But for others, drug dependency remained a fact of life.
Martin Wijnen is one of these. Diagnosed with HIV in 1987 after his sister died of a heroin overdose, he was told he had “six months to a year tops” to live. Seventeen years on he is still here and still heavily addicted, not to heroin, but to the synthetic opiate methadone. In his view, one shared by many current and ex-drug users, methadone is a dirty drug; harder to kick than heroin, potentially more dangerous, and one that reinforces using behaviour.
“I may sound like an angry addict but I feel people with HIV who are drug users have been written off. Methadone maintenance may have made sense pre-HAART. They had nothing else to offer, but after it became clear we had a fighting chance they should have offered us alternatives.”
Methadone was first developed by German scientists during World War II as a pain-killer. But the Nazis decided against mass producing the drug because of its side effects when administered in large doses.
In this country, methadone is usually prescribed to drug users as green sticky liquid and administered under supervision. If used for short periods it can help addicts get through the physical and psychological trauma of opiate withdrawal in detoxification programmes.
But more controversially it is used for ‘maintenance’; prescribed for an indefinite period as part of a ‘harm reduction’ strategy with no automatic step down. Methadone is longer acting than heroin, so can be taken just once a day. The idea of maintenance is to enable addicts to live more stable lives and thereby remove the destructive effects of heroin withdrawal: needle-sharing, drug-related crime and risk of infection from blood-borne viruses and onward transmission of HIV.
From a prevention point of view, harm reduction policies have worked. IV drug use has played a smaller part in the UK HIV epidemic than in many other developed countries. In 2003, 118 people acquired HIV infection through injecting drug use. At the end of September 2004, a total of 4,170 people had acquired HIV by this route from the time Health Protection Agency started collecting data. Needle exchanges have clearly worked. But little has been done to support HIV positive drug users now hooked on methadone.
And for Martin, who is co-infected with hep C, methadone maintenance has led to anything but a stable lifestyle.
“Coming off heroin is hard but you are usually up and about after a week. With methadone it can go on for a couple of months. It’s a nightmare.”
“I arrived back in the UK on the 1 January 1997, just out of prison in Zimbabwe; determined to do something about my addiction once and for all. My addiction and I had circled the globe a number of times looking to lose each other. HAART had put in its appearance and I had a reason to live. Actually, it was more a case of no longer having an excuse to use.
“I approached the NHS in Scotland for help with my drug problem. And guess what the solution was: more drugs.”
“It is an amazing piece of medical chicanery. So amazing I can’t believe I even bought into it. Yet I am still here, still addicted. Only this time it is to a cocktail of cheap and nasty drugs: methadone, benzodiazapines, anti-depressants, and so on.
“All the emotional issues that led me to ‘pick up’ in the first place are unresolved and my self esteem is in tatters.
“Sure, when people were dying like flies, pre combination therapy, methadone maintenance was, I suppose, acceptable. It gave the NHS access to a vulnerable group of people who might otherwise have initiated the ‘Iceberg’ scenario’ that we all saw on TV and it allowed addicts to die with some semblance of dignity.
“But the times have changed and it is no longer acceptable, in my view, to shackle addicts to a substance they don’t even like. If the policy is maintenance, then at least maintain people on their drug of choice. Coming off heroin is hard but you are usually up and about after a week. With methadone it can go on for a couple of months. It’s a nightmare.”
After starting on methadone, Martin ostensibly began to address his HIV status by volunteering for HIV charities. He even landed a job for Body Positive Strathclyde.
“On the outside everything looked good. I had a job, a girlfriend and I was helping to support others with HIV. Problem was, on the inside I was in turmoil. I was still running from my diagnosis, still dependent on methadone and still sure I was going to die.”
“If you are not HIV positive, they make more effort to get you to step down. But in Glasgow it was quite easy for patients to get their scripts increased. It was a bit of a candy shop mentality. We were given benzodiazapines, Mogadon and Valium, to top up the methadone, but they forgot to mention that you can’t come off those without fits and convulsions.”
Matters finally came to a head last year when he started combination therapy. He quickly realised that he was one of the 14 per cent of people unable to tolerate Combivir or efarvirenz. He became severely anaemic on the former, and psychotic on the latter.
“It confirmed all my worst fears about HIV drugs. I felt so low I began self-medicating and ended ‘picking up’ [the needle] again. At that moment my future as an addict loomed before me. I was not prepared to go through that again, so I decided to end it.”
Martin took a deliberate overdose. When he came too in his flat five days later he was covered in vomit and much more. He immediately rang his doctor.
“I told him I had taken everything he had prescribed: all my methadone, 200 Mogadon, (nitrazepam), Valium and antidepressants. He said that wouldn’t kill me and then told me to come in as I would need another script. Can you believe it? I was desperately in need of some psychiatric support and he offered more methadone.”
After switching to a more tolerable HIV drug regimen, Martin moved to London in search of a solution. For three months he bounced between IV drug units, HIV clinics, social services and HIV organisations. He also found time to co-facilitate St8talk, a support group for non-African HIV positive heterosexuals. Finally, under the care of a consultant psychiatrist at Chelsea and Westminster IVD unit, he was offered help. Last month he was accepted for detox and residential rehab, which, says Martin, will hopefully finally free him from the “ball and chain” of methadone.
“I would love to be able to say hey, shove your methadone and all that other crap too. But the truth is I am so addicted, I am going to have to spend the next six months, at least, fighting tooth and nail, just to become drug free. Free to start some real therapy.”

Useful numbers:
• Mainliners: national HIV and hepatitis C charity working with ex and current drugs users helpline: 020 7582 5226 www.mainliners.org.uk
• Str8talk: group for non-African heterosexuals meets 6.30 to 9pm at the Lighthouse London West. Next meeting 2 Feb str8@btinternet.com




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