SafeSpot Operator Helps Struggling Callers
By Luke Schmaltz, VOICES Newsletter Editor
Kimber King is a voice operator for SafeSpot, aka the SafeSpot Overdose Hotline. This free harm reduction helpline is dedicated to safeguarding people who plan to use substances that may result in life-threatening circumstances.
King’s story is unique, because before she found recovery and started working for SafeSpot, she was a helpline caller – a precautionary measure that saved her life. She currently works for SafeSpot as a remote operator in Rutland, Vermont.
Loss and Substance Use
“I developed substance use issues in 2008, after my brother, DJ, was stabbed to death during a drug deal gone wrong," King begins. “I called the helpline during the pandemic, after I had been kicked out of a rehab facility. I lived alone and I didn’t want my family to know I was no longer getting help. They were at the end of their rope with me.”
“I was 17 when my brother died. I was partying a lot, and I went down the same road. After he passed, I went from doing cocaine to opiates because I didn’t know how to deal with that grief. It took me a long time to see a therapist.
“Substance use runs deep in my family. I come from a rural community where there wasn’t much to do and for many, addiction can be the result. My mom’s substance use came from the traumatic loss of her mother.”
A Call for Help
“During the pandemic, the Never use Alone Hotline was started,” King explains. “If you had concerns about fentanyl contamination, you could call and speak with someone. They would get your address and if anything happened while you were on the phone with them, they would send EMS to your location.”
When I called the Never Use Alone Line, the operator, Jessie, stayed on the line with me. When it became clear to her that I had overdosed, she called 911. The ambulance driver who showed up at my house to reverse the overdose was named Stephen Murray. He was the same person who put his card in the syringe kits at the SSP, so it was a full circle situation. They both stayed close to me and loved me even though I was still using and struggling.”
“Stephen helped me get back into rehab even though it didn’t stick. Regardless, Stephen and Jessica would check up on me from time to time. They wanted me to get well and stay alive without harboring ulterior motives.”
Nationwide Impact
“The SafeSpot Hotline is the first fully funded service of its kind in the United States,” King says. “Even though we are based in Massachusetts, we answer calls from all across the United States, Canada, and Puerto Rico.”
“We’ve had three regular callers who recently passed away because they used without calling,” King Says. “It just takes that one time of using alone and you take the chance that no one is going to find you. We get very close to those we help, so dealing with that grief is hard. Some people call us every day – people who don’t have anyone in their life they can be honest with, or they are geographically isolated.”
“We get to know the callers, their children’s names, and what their lives are about. When we lose someone, it is very sad. SADOD’s resources have become part of how we take care of the people who work at the call center.”
“Our hold times are really short, something we are very proud of,” King explains. “The average caller holds for less than 14 seconds, and we have continuous coverage (24/7) so there’s always someone there to answer the phone.”
Informed Harm Reduction
“If it is a first-time caller, we ask for their name and address, although some callers don’t trust us at first and are hesitant to give out their address," King says. "We explain that if we don’t have their address and they overdose, there’s nothing we can do. Once we have their address, we put it onto Google Maps and confirm the building they are in, unit number if applicable, door code for entry, etc.”
“We gauge each situation as though whatever substance they are about to use is laced with fentanyl,” King says. “If an emergency arises, it is going to happen a lot quicker to someone who is injecting or smoking than to someone who is sniffing. We ask them to unlock their door and to isolate aggressive pets, so the EMS first responders are safe. We also check whether they have Narcan on site, because the laws are different from one region to the next. Lastly, we tell them to put away any extra substances and paraphernalia so that if we call somebody, the first responders don’t take everything when they leave.”
“Then, they get started and they let us know when they are done. At that point, we start a timer based on their substance and the delivery method and we simply wait. It is a pretty relaxed situation, and our role is to just be friendly and conversational. We ask if they have pets, which is an easily-relatable topic of conversation. We try to stay away from anything that could be emotionally triggering such as if they have kids, if they are working, or their marital status.”
“Once the timer goes off, they are free to hang up or use again if they want to. Or they can call back if necessary. Less than one percent of our calls end in overdose. Since I’ve been doing this, we have had to call 911 for somebody a total of 22 times out of 7,744 calls. We develop relationships with callers which can be helpful if someone is in a hurry and trying to use hit after hit. We can get them to slow down so that we can avoid a situation where we have to call 911. We never tell someone what they can or can’t do; they maintain autonomy.”
“When an operator has to call 911 for a caller, an admin such as myself will get tagged into the call to offer additional support. But if we can wake the person without calling emergency services, we will do everything we can such as yell to them, blow whistles, or bang pots and pans.”
Recovery, Stigma, and Grief
“I got sober through AA and NA – the 12-step abstinence approach. After three years, I am still going to those meetings, and I encounter stigma from my peers because of the work I do. They see me as an enabler of substance users rather than someone who is helping them. They don’t realize that the work I do is also what saved my life. It gets me depressed sometimes, because society will not stop stigmatizing drug users until we are no longer seen as criminals.”
“It is hard dealing with stigma on a daily basis because my mother has terminal cancer. I take care of her, and she has to have a lot of controlled substances in the house. I am the one who has to go and pick them up every time she needs a prescription refilled.”
“In coping with the loss of my brother, time is what has made things better. For a long time, my life was cut into two parts; before and after DJ died. His birthday was just a few weeks ago, and that is hard to deal with every year. I don't think it'll ever be easy. I went to therapy – a bereavement counselor – which helped. I held a lot of resentment for him and forgiving him was part of the therapy. He was incarcerated for much of my young life, and I was angry at him for dying. Another part of the healing, for me, was taking responsibility for my own life.”
“Now, my life is not split into those two halves – things have gotten much better. I had to decide that I wasn’t going to keep following him into the grave. That’s how I got sober.”
Hindsight Clarity
“The guy who killed my brother beat the charges, claiming that he acted in self-defense," King explains. "For years, I wanted revenge. I would Google the guy and try to find information on him. When I was in rehab for one of the last times in 2021, I found out that he was shot and killed in front of his mother’s house in The Bronx.”
“I wanted to feel vindicated, but I felt nothing. I didn’t feel better. When I finally got to a place of forgiveness and acceptance, I wished he was alive so that I could have a conversation with him. Now, I understand that everybody is going through their own struggle. He was only 19 years old when he stabbed my brother. He was not making sound decisions, and I see that now.”
“I know that DJ is watching over us, and I have a feeling that he knows what is going on with all of us.”
“As crazy as my story is,” King concludes, “It is not unique. People go through this stuff every day. This is real life.”