How the fentanyl patch transformed Andrea’s life

She speaks quickly and earnestly, her voice warm and deep. “I was at the bottom of my life when I walked into Interior Health two years ago,” she shares. “I had been living off and on the streets for five years and had almost given up. I felt useless and hopeless. Everything around me was dark and dismal, but I’m a fighter.”

She says she started using opiates a few years before when she was “in a really bad state of mind.”

“I was so ashamed. I told myself ‘I will never be one of those people,’ and hid my opiate use. I didn’t understand how somebody could be so physically dependent. But I wouldn’t go to sleep without something to wake up to or I would feel like crap.”

When she first ended up on the street, people wondered why her, and how. “I’m just a human being, and I have problems too,” she says. “I just hid them better than others,” she adds with a staccato laugh.

Before the patch, Andrea had tried other therapies: methadone, suboxone and hydromorphone, therapies more broadly known as opioid agonist therapy (OAT). “They were better than chasing my tail looking for a hit, but they still didn’t work well for me,” says Andrea.

In a private office inside the pharmacy, Erin, a registered nurse, busies herself getting ready to see Andrea.

An intensive care unit (ICU) nurse for 25 years, Erin switched to addiction medicine five years ago. She has between 16 and 20 clients at any given time and has been working with clients like Andrea for two and a half years.

“My clients tell me that this is one of the only things that works for them,” she says. “They report they have less cravings and less withdrawal.”

Prescribing pharmaceutical-grade, steady-state opioids like fentanyl to people with opioid use disorder has been shown to have other health and societal benefits. Not only are patients less likely to use unregulated, contaminated drugs, but they can minimize harms like infectious diseases. And rather than spending time “looking for a hit” as Andrea puts it—and perhaps committing crimes to satisfy their craving—they can focus on accessing health care and treatment and lead productive lives. 

Under Andrea’s clothing, stuck to the upper part of her back, are a matrix of sticky plastic dermal patches. They slowly release fentanyl in her system over 48 to 72 hours. Each patch is dated, and everything is documented in a large binder on Erin’s desk. Old patches can only be removed by the health-care provider, and disposed of at the pharmacy before a new set of patches is applied.

Clients who sign on to the prescribed safer supply program are under the care of an addictions medicine physician and are cared for by nurses like Erin. They must submit regular tests to monitor their progress and must return every few days to have their patches changed by nurses or a pharmacist.

“Clients like to see us. We spend a lot of time with them, and they don’t feel judged by us,” says Erin. “You develop a rapport—we see some every two to three days, some for years now. Many don’t have families, and some are unhoused. So we try to get them connected with additional medical care, housing and counselling. We try to ‘meet them where they’re at.’”

When Andrea started on the patch two years ago, she says they started to work right away. “I didn’t feel like s**t anymore. I felt better and better. I don’t have the urge to use. It’s hard for people to wrap their head around. You see fentanyl on the news. People are scared of fentanyl, and they should be.”

A nervous system depressant and powerful painkiller, fentanyl has been used since the 1960s in hospitals for sedation, colonoscopies, epidurals and deliveries in maternity care, and to help patients recover after painful surgeries. It’s also medically prescribed for pain management in cancer patients and in palliative care.

In the early 2010s, fentanyl started to make its way into street drugs. Compared to naturally-derived drugs like heroin, fentanyl is cheap to make and potent—it’s considered 30 to 50 times more potent than heroin, and 50 to 100 times more potent than morphine.

On April 16, 2016, the Province of B.C. declared a public health emergency due to overdose and drug poisoning deaths from unregulated drugs. Recent toxicology data shows that fentanyl was found in 77% of unregulated drug deaths in B.C.

Since starting on the patch two years ago, Andrea started working full-time at a street outreach organization. She rents her own place, got her driver’s licence back, and owns a car.

“I wake up in the morning, my feet hit the ground, and I go to work. I’ve never felt like that. I’m happy. The fentanyl patch has literally changed my life. Life isn’t perfect of course—I still have to deal with problems. But overall, I’m content. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”

When asked what the patch feels like, Andrea says it doesn’t get her high. “It feels like normal. But my normal is different. The patch keeps me at a steady level, a plateau. There are no ups and downs, no feeling sick, no euphoria.”

Erin and Andrea chat and laugh amicably. The entire patch exchange process takes about 15 minutes. Afterwards, Erin hands Andrea some snacks and bottled water.

“It’s nice because we have the time to spend with our clients,” says Erin. “We have one client who takes the bus in from out of town as she likes to see us. A lot of our clients don’t have anyone, so we become like their family.”

Erin is a strong advocate for her clients, saying there’s so much stigma. “Be mindful and aware of what you say. Treat people how you want to be treated,” she counsels.

Andrea agrees. “People think that homeless people are all the same. Just because you took this turn when I took this turn doesn’t mean I’m a worse person than you. It wasn’t my choice to be on the streets. I didn’t have a home to go to, especially in a costly city like Kelowna.”

The best advice Andrea ever got was from her mom: Stop looking in the rearview mirror. “I can’t change my past—but I know which fork to take now.”

The fentanyl patch program is part of Interior Health’s opioid agonist therapy (OAT) program.

Learn more about OAT

Call 310-MHSU (6478) to connect with your local Mental Health and Substance Use team to get started.

For immediate help

If you’re experiencing feelings of hopelessness or thoughts of self-harm, you can call one of these numbers 24 hours a day, seven days a week including holidays:

• Interior Crisis Line Network - 1-888-353-2273
• Suicide Crisis Helpline - 988
• KUU-US (Indigenous) Crisis Line - 1-800-588-8717
• Métis Crisis Line - 1-833-638-4722

April 14, 2025 marks the ninth anniversary of the declaration of the toxic drug emergency in B.C. Throughout the month of April, we’re bringing you stories to help educate, and destigmatize and humanize this wicked crisis. 

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