Mr-E-man
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2003
- Messages
- 94
Home > National News > Article
The $5 rush with a fatal sting
December 27, 2003
The popularity of the party drug G is soaring - and so are the rates of overdose. Ruth Pollard reports on a dangerous trend.
It was 1997, and one of the most popular nightclubs on Sydney's golden mile of Oxford Street knew it had a problem. It couldn't get its glasses clean. A strange line that had appeared around the inside of glasses was there to stay. It was the first sign that the party drug G had hit town.
Back then, just 3 per cent of people who used party drugs reported using G, or GHB (gamma hydroxybutyrate). And as Paul Dillon, from the National Drug and Alcohol Research Centre, says, that 3 per cent was a "sub-group of a sub-group of a sub-group" of the gay community.
In 2003 the profile of G users is very different. Thirty-five per cent of people using party drugs take G, gay and straight alike.
"It is in every jurisdiction, in every state, and in the general population," says Dillon. "The affordability has made the difference. Now it is younger people taking it; it is easy to make - it has so many things going for it to make it more popular."
A month ago, Dillon went to a school in Sydney's inner-west to talk about drugs to 15- and 16-year-olds. There was just one drug they wanted to know about - G. "They were all being offered it, many of them had tried it, and because it was so cheap, it was the drug they were going to start messing around with - and they knew nothing about it, not a thing."
Those who hadn't used it had seen overdoses. Most had been offered a dose for as little as $5.
G is both a powerful depressant and a powerful disinhibitor, and many users report a feeling of wellbeing similar to being in the "fun" stage of drinking alcohol, but multiplied a thousand times.
It has had many incarnations over the years - liquid ecstasy, GBH (grievous bodily harm), blue nitro, fantasy. Simple to manufacture, the drug's main ingredient, gamma butyrolactone - an easy-to-obtain solvent used in tyres and other industrial products - is mixed with two other common compounds.
It is the solvent in the drug that marks the nightclub's glasses, Dillon says.
Is is taken orally in liquid form, and most users add it to a small amount of soft drink to mask the bitter, chemical taste.
Perfume sample vials, contact lens cases and, more recently, the small plastic fish that are usually filled with soy sauce are used as containers for G, Dillon says.
Add some colour to the clear liquid, and the little fish become very attractive to a younger crowd.
"The colour was originally put in it because dealers were responding to a call from their buyers, who were saying, 'I can't see it when it is just a clear liquid'. Now it is just marketing," he says.
According to US newspaper reports, emergency admissions involving GHB nearly quadrupled from 1998 to 2000, when 4969 cases were reported, while the US Drug Enforcement Administration says 73 people have died from taking GHB since 1995, compared with 27 ecstasy-related deaths.
It is difficult to put a figure on deaths in Australia, although David Caldicott, a research fellow at Royal Adelaide Hospital, says G has been responsible for more fatalities than any other party drug over recent years.
Caldicott, who will release death figures in research to be published next year, says 300 people overdosed in South Australia alone in the past four years, most of them from the straight rave scene.
"A substantial proportion who use G actually get into medical trouble on it - and yet they do not actually see that as a problem. They arrive on our doorstep in a comatose state. Many require intubation and ventilation, and when occasionally that is unsuccessful people do die."
People who overdose range from appearing to be merely asleep, to deeply comatose, to those who have stopped breathing. Some suffocate when their airways become blocked; others choke after they have vomited. Many suffer a state of extreme agitation, literally jumping up and down on the spot, before they collapse.
"A lot of people who use recreational drugs were saying that G was perfectly safe, and that the dangers begin if you mix G and alcohol. This did not tally with our experience at St Vincent's Hospital in Sydney, or Royal Adelaide's experience," Caldicott said.
At the heart of the club scene in Darlinghurst, St Vincent's Hospital emergency department has recorded more than 130 G overdoses since January, sometimes up to 10 a night.
Staff specialist Fiona Chow says overdose numbers have doubled every year, from 25 in 2001, 50 in 2002 to at least 130 this year.
"When you think that potentially at least 50 to 70 per cent are going to be on a ventilator, that is a big deal. With heroin overdoses you can give them a shot [of narcan]. We have an antidote for heroin, we don't ... for GHB," Chow says.
Her research into the drug found 76 per cent of patients were comatose when they arrived at St Vincent's and many needed to be put on life support. "Since that we have had two definite known deaths at the hospital," Chow says.
Emergency department staff are getting used to treating G overdoses, predicting its clinical paths and the length of time its anaesthetic effects last. Outside hospitals, there is increasing anecdotal evidence that as G users and their friends become more familiar with how it affects people, many are starting to look after those who have overdosed at home, Chow says.
Buck Reed is a trained first aid officer who has worked on many of Sydney's major dance events and clubs. He has seen G use and overuse increase over time.
In his experience, it is the younger crowd that is most in danger of overdosing on G. They are rebellious yet inexperienced drug takers, just on the club scene and ready to experiment.
Reed says he has seen more than a handful of G overdoses in the past six months, many of which needed an ambulance. Those that don't need hospitalisation are moved to a quiet area of the dance party or club, where they are closely monitored.
"Most illicit drugs people use in a dance party are very reactive to stimuli, to light and sound ... so when you reduce the stimuli, they are able to cope a lot better," Reed says. "G ... is a time-critical drug in its overdose phase, so people who are recognised and helped early have a better chance than those left alone. Anecdotally, you seem to get more problems in the lounge room of your mate's flat than in a club or at a party."
For many like Reed who deal first-hand with partygoers who overdose the myths surrounding G are as frustrating as they are dangerous. Many users believe they simply go into a "G-sleep".
"There is a big difference between being asleep and being unconscious," Reed warns. "Once you become unconscious you risk having problems with your breathing and your airways. But if you recognise it early in that chain of events and give them some help, the chances of the person having a really serious outcome are greatly minimised."
The problem is that when users ingest GHB several times in a night there appear to be ever-higher peaks, where the third dose is usually an overdose. And experts say it is unclear whether the drug causes any detrimental long-term side effects.
Earlier research from the National Drug and Alcohol Research Centre indicates repeat overdoses are all too common. Of those who had used G, 53 per cent had overdosed and a third had overdosed more than three times, Dillon says. A further 43 per cent had received medical attention after using the drug, while 28 per cent had been taken to hospital.
"You become so disinhibited you just don't remember simple rules you have made prior to taking the drug, like allowing at least two hours between doses," Dillon says. "People ... make rules, promise friends, promise partners, do all that sort of stuff. Then they are out and it all goes by the wayside."
A major danger with G is its liquid form, which makes monitoring the strength of the dose almost impossible.
"It is so variable in strength, and it doesn't matter how much you try and tell people this, they don't listen," Dillon says. "You could get one dose that is so powerful that it could knock you for six. You are not going to find that with an ecstasy tablet.
"It is my fear that we are going to start to see a whole pile of really young people messing around with this drug, and some [will die]."
The $5 rush with a fatal sting
December 27, 2003
The popularity of the party drug G is soaring - and so are the rates of overdose. Ruth Pollard reports on a dangerous trend.
It was 1997, and one of the most popular nightclubs on Sydney's golden mile of Oxford Street knew it had a problem. It couldn't get its glasses clean. A strange line that had appeared around the inside of glasses was there to stay. It was the first sign that the party drug G had hit town.
Back then, just 3 per cent of people who used party drugs reported using G, or GHB (gamma hydroxybutyrate). And as Paul Dillon, from the National Drug and Alcohol Research Centre, says, that 3 per cent was a "sub-group of a sub-group of a sub-group" of the gay community.
In 2003 the profile of G users is very different. Thirty-five per cent of people using party drugs take G, gay and straight alike.
"It is in every jurisdiction, in every state, and in the general population," says Dillon. "The affordability has made the difference. Now it is younger people taking it; it is easy to make - it has so many things going for it to make it more popular."
A month ago, Dillon went to a school in Sydney's inner-west to talk about drugs to 15- and 16-year-olds. There was just one drug they wanted to know about - G. "They were all being offered it, many of them had tried it, and because it was so cheap, it was the drug they were going to start messing around with - and they knew nothing about it, not a thing."
Those who hadn't used it had seen overdoses. Most had been offered a dose for as little as $5.
G is both a powerful depressant and a powerful disinhibitor, and many users report a feeling of wellbeing similar to being in the "fun" stage of drinking alcohol, but multiplied a thousand times.
It has had many incarnations over the years - liquid ecstasy, GBH (grievous bodily harm), blue nitro, fantasy. Simple to manufacture, the drug's main ingredient, gamma butyrolactone - an easy-to-obtain solvent used in tyres and other industrial products - is mixed with two other common compounds.
It is the solvent in the drug that marks the nightclub's glasses, Dillon says.
Is is taken orally in liquid form, and most users add it to a small amount of soft drink to mask the bitter, chemical taste.
Perfume sample vials, contact lens cases and, more recently, the small plastic fish that are usually filled with soy sauce are used as containers for G, Dillon says.
Add some colour to the clear liquid, and the little fish become very attractive to a younger crowd.
"The colour was originally put in it because dealers were responding to a call from their buyers, who were saying, 'I can't see it when it is just a clear liquid'. Now it is just marketing," he says.
According to US newspaper reports, emergency admissions involving GHB nearly quadrupled from 1998 to 2000, when 4969 cases were reported, while the US Drug Enforcement Administration says 73 people have died from taking GHB since 1995, compared with 27 ecstasy-related deaths.
It is difficult to put a figure on deaths in Australia, although David Caldicott, a research fellow at Royal Adelaide Hospital, says G has been responsible for more fatalities than any other party drug over recent years.
Caldicott, who will release death figures in research to be published next year, says 300 people overdosed in South Australia alone in the past four years, most of them from the straight rave scene.
"A substantial proportion who use G actually get into medical trouble on it - and yet they do not actually see that as a problem. They arrive on our doorstep in a comatose state. Many require intubation and ventilation, and when occasionally that is unsuccessful people do die."
People who overdose range from appearing to be merely asleep, to deeply comatose, to those who have stopped breathing. Some suffocate when their airways become blocked; others choke after they have vomited. Many suffer a state of extreme agitation, literally jumping up and down on the spot, before they collapse.
"A lot of people who use recreational drugs were saying that G was perfectly safe, and that the dangers begin if you mix G and alcohol. This did not tally with our experience at St Vincent's Hospital in Sydney, or Royal Adelaide's experience," Caldicott said.
At the heart of the club scene in Darlinghurst, St Vincent's Hospital emergency department has recorded more than 130 G overdoses since January, sometimes up to 10 a night.
Staff specialist Fiona Chow says overdose numbers have doubled every year, from 25 in 2001, 50 in 2002 to at least 130 this year.
"When you think that potentially at least 50 to 70 per cent are going to be on a ventilator, that is a big deal. With heroin overdoses you can give them a shot [of narcan]. We have an antidote for heroin, we don't ... for GHB," Chow says.
Her research into the drug found 76 per cent of patients were comatose when they arrived at St Vincent's and many needed to be put on life support. "Since that we have had two definite known deaths at the hospital," Chow says.
Emergency department staff are getting used to treating G overdoses, predicting its clinical paths and the length of time its anaesthetic effects last. Outside hospitals, there is increasing anecdotal evidence that as G users and their friends become more familiar with how it affects people, many are starting to look after those who have overdosed at home, Chow says.
Buck Reed is a trained first aid officer who has worked on many of Sydney's major dance events and clubs. He has seen G use and overuse increase over time.
In his experience, it is the younger crowd that is most in danger of overdosing on G. They are rebellious yet inexperienced drug takers, just on the club scene and ready to experiment.
Reed says he has seen more than a handful of G overdoses in the past six months, many of which needed an ambulance. Those that don't need hospitalisation are moved to a quiet area of the dance party or club, where they are closely monitored.
"Most illicit drugs people use in a dance party are very reactive to stimuli, to light and sound ... so when you reduce the stimuli, they are able to cope a lot better," Reed says. "G ... is a time-critical drug in its overdose phase, so people who are recognised and helped early have a better chance than those left alone. Anecdotally, you seem to get more problems in the lounge room of your mate's flat than in a club or at a party."
For many like Reed who deal first-hand with partygoers who overdose the myths surrounding G are as frustrating as they are dangerous. Many users believe they simply go into a "G-sleep".
"There is a big difference between being asleep and being unconscious," Reed warns. "Once you become unconscious you risk having problems with your breathing and your airways. But if you recognise it early in that chain of events and give them some help, the chances of the person having a really serious outcome are greatly minimised."
The problem is that when users ingest GHB several times in a night there appear to be ever-higher peaks, where the third dose is usually an overdose. And experts say it is unclear whether the drug causes any detrimental long-term side effects.
Earlier research from the National Drug and Alcohol Research Centre indicates repeat overdoses are all too common. Of those who had used G, 53 per cent had overdosed and a third had overdosed more than three times, Dillon says. A further 43 per cent had received medical attention after using the drug, while 28 per cent had been taken to hospital.
"You become so disinhibited you just don't remember simple rules you have made prior to taking the drug, like allowing at least two hours between doses," Dillon says. "People ... make rules, promise friends, promise partners, do all that sort of stuff. Then they are out and it all goes by the wayside."
A major danger with G is its liquid form, which makes monitoring the strength of the dose almost impossible.
"It is so variable in strength, and it doesn't matter how much you try and tell people this, they don't listen," Dillon says. "You could get one dose that is so powerful that it could knock you for six. You are not going to find that with an ecstasy tablet.
"It is my fear that we are going to start to see a whole pile of really young people messing around with this drug, and some [will die]."
