The changes were at first gradual and quite subtle; then suddenly, his behavior became intensely violent. My son, Charlie, twenty-three , usually quiet, respectful, and fun-loving was acting in unrecognizable ways. It started with a romantic break-up. Charlie discovered that the girl he had trusted for over a year had been lying. She was doing drugs, hard drugs. Charlie didn’t know. He felt betrayed. Friends and family had warned him. Although others saw the warning signs, it didn’t matter to Charlie; he hadn’t seen it. Now there was no mistake. There was also a drug dealer, a large, menacing man, driving a late model black Cadillac. “Evil” said Charlie. He was upset, agitated, and a little mopey.
But then there was more paranoia about the evil man, hyperventilation, delusions, foul language and an inability to eat or sleep. Charlie said the evil Cadillac man had taken over his electronic life-hacked his computer, tracked his movements on his cell phone, controlled his computer documents remotely, inserted false information into his Facebook page. Charlie’s gestures became wilder, his accusations multiplied. Charlie was pacing the floors at 1 a.m. and then waking me up at 5 a.m., urgently needing resolution to this crisis. By day three, Charlie couldn’t take the trash out to the street as the drug dealer could be lurking, waiting to kill him, just outside the door. This was now a full blown crisis.
I had a doctor’s name but it was too late for that; we were in a state of emergency. It was Friday at 6:30 AM. He needed to get to the hospital, either in my car or by ambulance. His gestures were larger-than-life, his strength far exceeded mine. He ran from me, shrieking in fear. I called 911 and almost immediately police officers were at the door. They talked to Charlie, they listened to Charlie, and ultimately, they got him to the ambulance and to the hospital. I then permitted the police to search his bedroom. They reassured me that they were not looking to prosecute him on drug charges but wanted to determine what was causing the behavior they witnessed. Observing his jerky motions, one officer asked if Charlie had Tourette’s syndrome. It wasn’t long before they found a small metal tin with some white powder and the ex-girlfriend’s name in it. They called for a PCP test kit and when the powder turned bright blue, they labeled it PCP. At the hospital, Charlie’s behavior was so extreme, so agitated, the nurses needed to sedate him and sedate him again until he slept. Ten hours later, they were able to perform a drug test. The drug test came back negative. There were no drugs in his system. What was going on?
Charlie was transferred to the behavioral health facility Friday night. With the clean drug test, I was told I could visit him Saturday morning. Upon arrival at the facility, I was told I could not see him for 72 hours, the standard time frame when a patient is in detox. But I was given no information as to what was happening or why I had received conflicting information. Because it was the weekend, Charlie would not see a doctor until Monday. On Monday, still quietly delusional but more rational, he told the social worker he had ingested bath salts. Bath salts? The counselor told me this was so new to them; they had to hurriedly read up on it. I was doing the same. Bath salts were at this time a totally legal chemical substance, Methylenedioxypyrovalerone (MDPV) which causes paranoia, delusions, sleeplessness, heart palpitations, and agitation, but which is completely undetected by current drug tests and is easily purchased at your neighborhood head shop, tobacco store or on the Internet.
When the narcotics detective called later that week to tell me the drug they found (but didn’t test outside of the simple home kit) was PCP, I informed him that it was, in all likelihood, bath salts. He informed me that all he knew of bath salts was what he had learned from an online MSNBC video, the same video I had watched. One week after the powder was found, the police said they would send it upstate to be tested. The mental health clinicians were unaware, the narcotics detective seemed uninformed. His former girlfriend had purchased this drug openly on the Internet. Undoubtedly, like me, other parents are also in the dark.
I was not allowed to see my son for four days. By that time, the delusions had diminished but not vanished. The agitation had turned to passivity. He wanted out and was devastated that he could not yet come home. Two days later, on Thursday, we eagerly checked him out of the facility. When I asked why he had taken the bath salts, he responded that he was stressed and thought they were a legal way to help him concentrate. I never received any further information back from the police on the additional testing performed.
In Charlie’s case, we were lucky. He survived, he was treated, and he learned that he does not want to spend time locked up ever again. He will go to counseling. The week following release, we took a break—fishing, golfing and hiking, far away from the influences of former friends, the Internet and TV. Charlie is looking for work and planning for his future.
At the time of this event, there had been a few attempts at passing legislation to outlaw bath salts but with few significant results. On October 21, 2011, the DEA enacted a temporary ban on MDPV to get it off the streets while being studied.
