I think we are all waiting on the edge of our seat to know if SUAP funding is going to be renewed or extended. We're scared, and our patients are scared alongside us. My patients are marginalized in a way that suggests that they're not part of the overall community—but they are and they read the news. My patients are scared. They've been asking me, most days for the past six months, if they're going to lose their scrips, if they are going to have to return to what their lives were previously, if they are going to lose connections with their family and lose housing. If these programs end and they have to return to the toxic supply, they ask me if they're going to die, and I don't have an answer for them because I don't know if funding is going to be renewed.
For us, the clinicians providing this care, it is an absolute moral distress. We know that when people are de-prescribed opioids—as one of our speakers mentioned today—they turn to the illicit market. We have decades of data around the opioid crisis, since the early 2000s, showing that de-prescribing, predictably, leads to death.
Clinicians are in this position where most safe supply clinics have maybe a month left of funding, and we don't know if it will continue. Clinicians are stuck. Do they wean people, knowing that data shows that many could potentially die if they do so? Do they transition them to more conventional addiction treatments, like OATs such as methadone and buprenorphine, knowing that these patients have failed multiple times on these previous medications, and the fact that they failed led them to be part of a safe supply program in the first place? Clinicians don't know what to do. The moral distress comes from knowing they've been keeping people alive for three to four years on these programs and not knowing if, in a month, the people they care for, serve and love are going to die.