Thank you for this opportunity.
My name is Angela Welz. I live in Edmonton, Alberta. Tragically, my youngest daughter Zoe died from an unregulated, poisoned drug supply. Zoe was a beautiful, smart, athletic, creative and determined young woman with a bright future whose life was cut short by the lack of harm reduction options for youth, inadequate on-demand voluntary treatment, restrictive, prohibition-based policies and a toxic drug supply.
Zoe began using substances at the age of 15 after her grandmother's passing and upon learning of her father's terminal cancer diagnosis. Drug use became a way for her to escape her overwhelming anguish and helplessness. After one of her friends died from drug poisoning, she asked for help to get sober, and we quickly investigated securing treatment care for her. We were told that she would have to travel to Calgary and that the wait was going to be at least three months. This wait was too long for Zoe. Ultimately, it failed. After that, she never brought up voluntary treatment again.
I first learned about Alberta's protection of children abusing drugs model, or PChAD, at a parent support group meeting. PChAD allows parents or legal guardians of youth under the age of 18 to ask the court for a protection order for their child. This protection order means that the child will be taken involuntarily to a protective safe house for up to 15 days for detoxification, stabilization and assessment.
In a state of desperation, I moved forward with the PChAD order, although I was apprehensive and felt intimidated by the process. After an emotional disclosure to an AHS counsellor, I was granted the requisition to go to court. I did not expect the open courtroom, which was filled with other family court cases. I had to stand before a judge, swear an oath and recount the circumstances that had led me to this point. I felt judged as a terrible parent, and the experience left me deeply traumatized.
I was granted the court order. Since it's valid for only 50 days from the time it is granted, the clock started to tick immediately. No opportunity presented itself to act on the order until a couple of weeks before it was to expire. Zoe came home feeling unwell. I took her to the hospital. She was given antibiotics. I was to bring her back every four hours for treatment. Given her aggressive infection, I pleaded with the ER doctor to admit her, but he refused. When the antibiotics were completed and while she was sleeping at home, I called the police to enforce the PChAD order. They arrived, woke her and escorted her out in handcuffs to a waiting police car in front of our home, with neighbours watching.
Zoe was furious and felt deeply violated and betrayed by this. At that moment, I realized what this process had done to our relationship and wondered if she would ever be able to trust me or any authority figure again.
While the staff at the safe house were kind, they provided little information, citing privacy reasons. Part of the detox is having family conversations, but that didn't happen because Zoe refused to see me. Near the end of her 10-day stay, she agreed to see me and begged me not to apply for the five-day extension, so I didn't. Zoe was released into my care at the end of her detox, with a follow-up treatment plan she chose not to share with me. I brought her home. Later that night, she ran away and met a friend she had made at the safe house. The next day, both girls were arrested for liquor theft. This was Zoe's first arrest, which brought on new challenges for her. Zoe died on November 7, 2016 from fentanyl poisoning, less than four months after her 18th birthday.
Let me be clear: Zoe didn't die from addiction. She died from a broken system and the unregulated and poisoned drug supply. Since my daughter died, I have learned that care should never be forced or coerced, and treatment should never be housed in a jail, as some provinces propose to do—including Alberta, which plans to move the PChAD detox program to the Young Offender Centre. How much further can we criminalize substance use, and how much longer will we cause more harm than good?
I have shared my lived experience and the tragic story of Zoe for years now on behalf of Moms Stop the Harm, but the deaths caused by the toxic drug supply continue at a rate that is catastrophic to so many families. As a country, we have regressed significantly, especially in the way harm reduction has been vilified by all political parties. Instead of being recognized as a vital tool in saving lives and supporting people of all ages who use drugs, harm reduction has faced misinformation and political resistance.
It is my hope that we can finally work together to come up with a comprehensive and compassionate plan, beginning with harm reduction services and on-demand voluntary treatment to help end these preventable deaths among youth.
A healthy recovery is possible only if people are alive and well supported. In my experience, involuntary care is not the answer to any hope of that happening.
Thank you.