Even unprescribed methadone can be deadly
Dave Bradley’s first experience with methadone was also his last.
The Windsor man was rushed to hospital after consuming a 125-milligram bottle of the unprescribed opiate a friend gave him Oct. 27, 2011. But the 45-year-old alcoholic and crack addict who had not experimented much with opiates apparently felt better at one point and left unannounced. He died later that morning in his sleep.
Bradley’s death provides yet another illustration of the opiate crisis. It shows that even methadone, used to treat addicts trying to break free from other opioids, is deadly dangerous when not used as prescribed.
His three grown children still miss a father they describe as a loving, caring man. He couldn’t be there for his family financially, since the man who worked different manual labour jobs spent so much on his addictions. But his children remember him as a nurturer and a peacemaker.
Many considered him invincible — an affable west-end party guy from way back — until he got his hands on that methadone.
“There’s definitely a hole in our hearts,” said Shawntelle Lalonde, who was 26 when her father died and who wishes he could have met his grandson, Kaan, now 2. “We just loved him so much.
“It doesn’t make it better because he died from an overdose. I feel like people think it’s less sad. But it’s still hard on the family. He didn’t want to die. And he was our father.”
The dull pain Bradley’s children still feel has at least subsided somewhat from the shock of that day.
“They called me over the PA,” recalled Jared Bradley, who was 17 and in high school at the time. “Something in my head knew exactly what was happening. I just remember thinking, my dad’s dead. I know it.”
His aunt was waiting in the hall by the office, looking shellshocked.
“I said, ‘It’s my dad, isn’t it?’ ” Jared recalled. “She didn’t even answer. She just started crying in the hallway with me. So I started crying. I had to go home.”
Taylor Lalonde was 20 at the time and working at her aunt’s restaurant when the phone call came about her father.
“The cafe was completely filled with people and the phone just would not stop ringing,” she recalled. “My aunt finally picked it up. She’s normally very calm and reserved and she just screamed, ‘What?!’
“I picked up the phone and heard my other aunt bawling her eyes out, saying, ‘Dave’s gone! Dave’s dead!’ I hung up on her and ran out of the cafe and just started bawling.”
She recently turned emotional while recounting the story, reliving the pain. She was told the night before that her father had overdosed, but was assured he made it to the hospital in time. Nobody counted on him leaving.
“I said an hour before how mad I was that he put us through that,” she said, noting that she still thinks about her dad every day. “And now he’s gone.”
As Jared said: “He overdosed multiple times before. So we thought, Oh, it’s just another one of those times. He’ll get better.”
But the man who grew up in the St. Joseph’s projects, who had been partying since a young teen, the man with the long hair and the predilection for classic rock and the 1970s, couldn’t beat the buzz this time. The opioid was stronger than him that night.
“My heart dropped initially,” Shawntelle said. “But then I thought, this is what happens. I expected this to happen some day.
“For me, at least, it was almost like having a terminally ill family member. It was a sudden punch to the gut, but that’s what happens when you live that lifestyle. But it was still so sad.”