The artwork was placed as a “gift” to Massachusetts Attorney General Maura Healey outside of the State House.
The massive, 800-pound “heroin spoon” sculpture has re-emerged.
This past June, the guerrilla art exhibit sat in front of Purdue Pharma headquarters in Stamford, Connecticut, for about two hours before it was hauled away by city workers.
The spoon appears burnt and bent at the handle. The artist, Domenic Esposito, said the purpose of the massive symbol is to “protest and hold accountable the people who in our minds have created this epidemic that has killed close to 300,000 people.” Purdue Pharma is the maker of OxyContin.
Gallery owner Fernando Louis Alvarez was arrested and charged with obstruction of free passage, a criminal misdemeanor. But a judge has since agreed to erase the charge from his record upon completion of one year’s probation.
Last Friday (Oct. 26), the 10.5-foot-long sculpture re-appeared in front of the Massachusetts State House in Boston. But this time, the artwork was placed as a “gift” to Massachusetts Attorney General Maura Healey for her efforts in holding Big Pharma accountable for its part in fueling the opioid crisis.
In June, the state of Massachusetts filed a lawsuit against Purdue Pharma, accusing the company of recklessly promoting its opioid painkillers “without regard to the very real risks of addiction, overdose and death.”
The lawsuit is the first in the U.S. to name company executives. Many other states, cities and counties have sued Purdue Pharma as well.
“Purdue peddled falsehoods to keep patients away from safer alternatives,” Healey stated in her complaint. “Even when Purdue knew people were addicted and dying, Purdue treated the patients and their doctors as ‘targets’ to sell more drugs.”
A group of mothers who have lost children to drug overdose peacefully rallied beside the spoon sculpture on Friday.
The artist Esposito has personally been affected by the opioid crisis. He described the toll that his brother Danny’s nearly 14-year addiction to heroin, which began with OxyContin and Percocet, had on his family.
“My mom would call me in a panic… screaming she found another burnt spoon. This is a story thousands of families go through. He’s lucky to be alive,” he said according to the Hartford Courant.
“The spoon has always been an albatross for my family,” he added. “It’s kind of an emotional symbol, a dark symbol for me.”
Nearly 5% of Massachusetts residents may be battling opioid use disorder, according to a new study.
Health officials in Massachusetts are expressing concern over the results of a new study, which suggests that more residents are struggling with opioid use disorder than previous research had suggested.
Using information culled from a database for public health information, the study authors found that the number of individuals in the Bay State who have either received treatment for addiction, or who qualify as addicted but have gone undiagnosed, may be as high as 4.6% of residents over the age of 11.
That number is significantly higher than previous records, which suggested that addiction rates hovered at just over 1%.
The study was published in the American Journal of Public Health, and sought to determine the annual prevalence of opioid use between 2011 and 2015.
To do so, researchers used the Massachusetts Public Health Data Warehouse, which links information on hospital and emergency room visits, prescriptions and insurance claims, among other sources, from more than a dozen state agencies.
Patients are identified with their own unique number so it is possible to track a single individual who may have been admitted to a hospital or ER or received treatment from first responders.
Researchers looked at information on individuals who, based on such encounters with the health care system, had been or could be determined as suffering from opioid addiction—and identified 119,000 people, or 2% of the state population over the age of 11 in 2015.
From there, they used statistical methods to estimate the number of people who would be considered as opioid-dependent but have not received any treatment.
That formula brought the total number of individuals up to 4.6%, or 275,000 Massachusetts residents over the age of 11 years. Previous research, which determined the 1% rate, was based on national surveys that interviewed only those people who had sought help from the health care system for opioid-related issues.
Response from the Massachusetts medical community was largely positive in regard to the study’s findings. The Boston Globe quoted Dr. Joshua A. Barocas, an infectious disease physician at Boston Medical Center, who said, “[The study] is a good wake-up call. Our pool of people who are at risk for overdoses is potentially higher than we thought it was.”
The study also drew criticism from Dr. Silvia S. Martins, director of the Substance Abuse Epidemiology Unit at the Columbia University Mailman School of Public Health. Her response stemmed from what she viewed as a broad definition of opioid use disorder, which may have inflated the statistics.
“The analysis could have been done in a more precise way,” she said.
When we demand answers without a deep, authentic understanding of the problem, we wind up putting band-aids on gangrene.
As I wandered into the opening plenary at the 12th National Harm Reduction Conference in New Orleans last week, something felt off. It wasn’t just the four white-robed women on stage, solemn and elegant in contrast to the mostly grungy, tattooed crowd. It wasn’t the massive indigo chandeliers, which cast a somber blue over the room. It was an energy I couldn’t quite place at first. Then, slowly, it washed over me.
Grief.
Throughout the morning, as various speakers mounted the stage, the story of grief unfolded. The harm reduction movement is grieving the loss of one of our pillars, Dan Bigg, who died suddenly last August. We are grieving the political landscape, feeling vulnerable and scared as overdose deaths continue to mount and hard-won reforms in drug policy are reversed through a tide of drug-induced homicide laws and other punitive policies against drug users. And we are grieving the conflicts, hypocrisies and dysfunction present within our own movement that at times threatens to tear it apart.
My last report on a harm reduction conference for The Fix was in 2014. At the time, I described harm reduction as a community standing at a crossroads. The 2014 conference in Baltimore embodied the culture clash of a movement that had started as a radical underground community of people who use drugs being overwhelmed by mainstream and professional interests. Tension crackled between old and new, as did fear of co-opting and straying too far from its radical roots. Now, four years later, some of those tensions have boiled over.
One of the plenary speakers in New Orleans, Micah Frazier of The Living Room Project in Mexico, described the harm reduction community as a family full of love and dysfunction. With gentle admonition, Micah urged the crowd to watch how we treat each other and to be careful of how we engage in conflict.
Another speaker, Erica Woodland of the National Queer and Trans Therapists of Color Network, offered a blunt account of how he had left harm reduction six years ago over concerns about the lack of black leadership in the movement and the devaluation of black expertise.
“I got divorced from y’all,” Erica said, to a smattering of laughter. “I came back; we’re dating!” But he warned that the reunion would be brief unless harm reductionists could show capacity for change.
Harm reduction has changed in the past few years. Several of the largest organizations have experienced a shift in leadership as white, male executives who held power for decades have been replaced by women and people of color.
In fact every speaker touched on the need for a “changing of the guard” within harm reduction. They pointed out that the movement, supposedly centered around racial justice and recognizing the dignity of people who use drugs, does not always practice what it preaches. They criticized the prevalence of white, male leadership, while queer staff, people of color and active drug users are often reduced to underpaid “peer outreach” positions or token members of panels, trotted out for the public, then silenced once the cameras are gone. They stressed the pitfalls of sacrificing long-term vision for short-term gain, warned against co-opting by the public health system, and urged the crowd not to forget its roots.
Change is coming. Change must come, the speakers insisted. And transition is not always pretty.
Their words seared right through me.
A few months ago, I left my position with the North Carolina Harm Reduction Coalition (NCHRC) after eight years as their advocacy and communications coordinator. The decision was voluntary, but born from a place of pain. The organization had recently gone through its own changing of the guard and the process had, at times, been ugly.
In fact, the past couple years of my life have been marred by grief as the organization I have loved and helped grow, an organization that has done so much to advance harm reduction in hostile territory, has been tested and torn by the tension between demand for change and resistance to it. These past years have involved a lot of soul searching for me as I have second-guessed past decisions and wondered if I have allowed enough space for the voices of people most impacted by the drug war to lead.
The plenary was an epiphany. All this time I had bathed in private shame thinking that NCHRC was alone in its struggle, uniquely unable to have tough conversations without dissolving into anger and defensiveness. Now, for the first time, I realized that the movement has been changing and hurting across the whole country. We had never been alone.
The heaviness of this opening plenary hung over me for the remainder of the four-day conference. Even the siren call of New Orleans—the bright lights of Bourbon Street and hot gumbo spice—could not penetrate the fog. I don’t think I was the only person struggling. Even as other attendees greeted old friends and met new ones in between workshops, you could feel grief and tension hovering over everyone. There was no relief from it, not even in the blizzard of breakout sessions.
I tried to attend some breakout sessions, of which there were a dizzying number including topics such as fentanyl, friction with police, racial justice, indigenous healing, queer drug use and much more. The breakout sessions seemed designed to ask questions, but not necessarily to answer them. This frustrated a lot of people. I overheard many grumbling conversations in the hallways about how such-and-such a panel had not provided a “solution” to the problem being discussed. Years, perhaps even months ago, I would have felt this way too. Today I feel differently.
A couple of years ago I attended a town hall meeting hosted by activists and founding members of Black Lives Matter. After over an hour listening to them talk about racism and oppression, a white woman in the audience asked the question that had been burning in my brain the whole time: “How can we fix it?”
The speaker responded by politely suggesting that the young woman have conversations with family and friends about racism. The woman sat down, seeming dissatisfied with such vague marching orders. I was disappointed myself and, I’ll admit, a little appalled that the speaker didn’t seem aware of the importance of giving people concrete actions so that they stay engaged in the movement. But today I see the wisdom in that answer. The speaker didn’t give that young woman, or me, an easy answer because we weren’t ready for one.
Lately I have come to appreciate conversations that do not end with solutions. Most societal problems are so complex that any “solution” that can be discussed in a 60-minute panel is probably bullshit. Most of us know surface level things—racism is real, drug policy is killing people, there are too many people in prison—but we don’t truly understand the history or scope of these issues, especially if they don’t directly impact us. We want a quick recap of current affairs and a quick fix, but when we demand answers without a deep, authentic understanding of the problem, we wind up putting band-aids on gangrene.
This, I think, is what the conference was attempting to do—to encourage discussion and exploration and self-reflection, not to provide instant gratification.
I left New Orleans without answers, but with a great sense of responsibility to seek them, even if it takes a lifetime.
Members of Harriet’s Apothecary open the conference with calls to be mindful and present. Image: Nigel Brundson
Critics say the emergency declaration was more for show than to actually resolve the crisis.
A year ago, President Trump declared a national public health emergency because of the opioid epidemic, vowing that doing so would streamline responses to a health crisis that killed more than 70,000 Americans last year.
However, a new report shows that the declaration has led to little change.
The report, prepared by the Government Accountability Office, found that the administration has used just three of 17 available authorities that are activated when the government proclaims a public health crisis. These authorities include, for example, waiving certain administrative processes in order to quicken responses in an emergency.
The Trump administration used one authority to more quickly field a survey of healthcare providers about their prescription practices. The results of the survey will help inform policy decisions going forward, the administration said.
Secondly, authorities waived the public notice period for approval of two state Medicaid demonstration projects related to substance use disorder treatment, which was intended to speed up implementation of the projects, allowing the states to test and evaluate new addiction-related services delivered through Medicaid.
Finally, the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) increased support for research on opioid use disorder treatments and gave out information on opioid misuse and addiction.
The Department of Health and Human Services said that more authorities haven’t been used because many of the abilities enabled by the state of emergency declaration are not applicable to the opioid epidemic. Instead, they are designed for response to infectious diseases or natural disaster.
“HHS officials determined that many are not relevant to the circumstances presented by the opioid crisis,” the report reads. However, the potential for additional responses will be reviewed. “Officials told GAO they will continue to review the authorities as the opioid crisis evolves and in the context of HHS’s other efforts to address the opioid crisis.”
Still, critics of the administration say that the fact that so few resources have been utilized shows that the administration’s declaration was more for show than in hope of solving the problem.
“Communities are desperately in need of more help to address the opioid epidemic. President Trump, as this report shows, has broken his promises to do his part,” Senator Elizabeth Warren (D-MA) said in a statement reported by Vox. “I’ve asked this administration time and time again to show what actions they are taking to meaningfully address this crisis. No response. To me, it looks like empty words and broken promises. Hand-waving about faster paperwork and speeding up a few grants is not enough — the Trump Administration needs to do far more to stop the opioid epidemic.”
Sufentanil is currently used intravenously in operating rooms in tightly-controlled circumstances.
The chair of an FDA advisory panel is speaking out against the approval of a powerful new opioid that is even stronger than fentanyl, but despite his public stances it appears likely that the FDA will approve the drug.
“Opioids are substantially different than almost any other classification of drugs in that they carry with them the risks of tolerance, addiction, and death, and what we’ve been trying to get the FDA to come to grips with is that this class of drugs needs to be treated differently,” Raeford Brown, Jr., MD, chair of the Anesthetic and Analgesic Drug Products Advisory Committee and professor at the University of Kentucky told MedPage Today. “Some of the methodology they use to manage other drug classes are perhaps not reasonable with this.”
The drug in question is DSUVIA, a form of sufentanil, a synthetic opioid that is 500 times more powerful than morphine. Sufentanil is currently used intravenously in operating rooms in tightly-controlled circumstances, but DSUVIA would make it available in a tablet that is administered under the tongue.
On Oct. 12, the FDA’s advising committee voted 10-3 to allow the drug to go to market.
However, Brown said that many committee members — himself included — were absent for that vote because they were attending the American Society of Anesthesiologists conference.
“That’s one of the reasons I felt that I needed to speak up, because people that are regulating this drug need to be very thoughtful about the public health in this particular circumstance,” he said.
The drug would be approved with a Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy (REMS) program, but Brown said that is not enough of a safeguard.
“There’s no indication whatsoever that any of the REMS programs for opioids have been effective in improving the safety,” he said.
Brown is so against the approval of DSUVIA that he penned an open letter to the FDA, saying that sufentanil has “substantial risks of respiratory depression, diversion, abuse, and death,” and that its benefits do not outweigh these risks.
“It is my observation that once the FDA approves an opioid compound, there are no safeguards as to the population that will be exposed, the post-marketing analysis of prescribing behavior, or the ongoing analysis of the risks of the drug to the general population relative to its benefit to the public health,” he wrote. “Briefly stated, for all of the opioids that have been marketed in the last 10 years, there has not been sufficient demonstration of safety, nor has there been post-marketing assessment of who is taking the drug, how often prescribing is inappropriate, and whether there was ever a reason to risk the health of the general population by having one more opioid on the market.”
Further information on the approval of DSUVIA is expected in early November.
“I am the most camera shy person in the world. But if making my detox public is going to help somebody…I’m all for it,” said the 26-year-old.
The Truth Initiative, which has produced 20 years of anti-tobacco public health messaging, just released a new opioid PSA.
This time, we meet 26-year-old Rebekkah, who agreed to allow her opioid detox to be filmed for the Truth Initiative to show the world.
“I know these next few days aren’t going to be pretty,” she says in the six-minute video. “And I am the most camera shy person in the world. But if making my detox public is going to help somebody—even just one person—I’m all for it.”
Rebekkah was once a promising dancer and athlete, but that all came to a halt when she was 14 and blew out her ankle during cheerleading practice. A doctor prescribed opioid painkillers, and as she says, it was all downhill from there.
“That decision I made, to go to the doctor and not get the surgery, that’s the worst decision I ever made in my whole life,” she said. Her painkiller addiction eventually turned to heroin.
The video fast-forwards through the early days of Rebekkah’s detox, describing the withdrawal symptoms that arise with each day. The video is shown in a public space, what appear to be busy New York City streets, as the public watches on.
Day 3 is characterized by nausea and vomiting, diarrhea, drug cravings and depression. “I have a lot of self-image issues. My mind doesn’t tell me anything nice,” says Rebekkah.
As the days go by, things are looking better. “Each day that passes I feel more and more alive,” she said.
Rebekkah’s story—titled “Treatment Box”—marks the second installment of the Truth About Opioids public awareness campaign, made possible by a collaboration between the Truth Initiative, the Ad Council, and the U.S. Office of National Drug Control Policy (ONDCP).
The first round of anti-opioid PSAs released in June went for shock value. The four ads profiled four individuals who went to extreme lengths to obtain prescription opioids.
Allegedly based on true stories, “Chris from Atlanta” breaks his own arm by slamming it in a door, “Kyle from Dallas” breaks his own hand with a hammer, “Joe from Maine” crushes his body under a car, and “Amy from Columbus” crashes her car into a dumpster.
Critics of the ads say they were “disingenuous and misleading.”
Aside from PSAs, Truth also offers resources on its website to educate and help those who need support—such as “What if your doctor wants to prescribe you opioids? Here are 12 questions to ask your doctor,” and how to locate a treatment center near you.
“We could’ve gone down other avenues, but we felt it was the right thing for the character. As you know, it’s a crisis in this country.”
The return of Roseanne was one of the biggest comeback stories of the year—until Roseanne Barr got fired for posting inflammatory tweets this May.
The show has since been rebooted without her as The Conners, and as rumored, her character dies of an opioid overdose.
Before Barr was fired, her character was keeping “secret bottles” of Vicodin stashed in her home because the family couldn’t afford an operation and she was trying to deal with chronic pain in her knee.
Like many who suffer from chronic pain, Roseanne Conner got her meds illegally, buying them through her neighbor Marcy (played by Mary Steenburgen).
Through Steenburgen, Dan Conner (John Goodman) realizes that many in the neighborhood are getting their meds this way.
“We thought we’d include issues such as a lack of proper healthcare and the prohibitive costs of medications that many face,” said executive producer Tom Werner toForbes. “I think the conversation between Marcy and Dan made the story quite affecting because, obviously it was an accident, but an accident that seems to be happening frequently. Their conversation became part of a larger issue of people in a community passing along drugs either not being prescribed them by a doctor, or drugs being too expensive and unaffordable. This is part of a bigger issue in this country.”
In making the decision to kill off Roseanne, Werner added, “Obviously, it is important for us to do the show respectfully. We could’ve gone down other avenues, but we felt it was the right thing for the character. As you know, it’s a crisis in this country.”
Bruce Helford, who is the showrunner of The Conners, told The Hollywood Reporter, “There was a lot of chatter in the ether about how we should explain Roseanne’s absence: Should she have a heart attack, a mental breakdown or go off into the sunset on a boat with her son? But we firmly decided against anything cowardly or far-fetched, anything that would make the fierce matriarch of the Conners seem pathetic or debased.
“I wanted a respectful sendoff for her,” Helford continued. “One that was relevant and could inspire discussion for the greater good about the American working class, whose authentic problems are often ignored by broadcast television.”
“We could’ve gone down other avenues, but we felt it was the right thing for the character. As you know, it’s a crisis in this country.”
The return of Roseanne was one of the biggest comeback stories of the year until Roseanne Barr got fired for posting inflammatory tweets this May.
The show has since been rebooted without her as The Conners, and as rumored, her character dies of an opioid overdose.
Before Barr was fired, her character was keeping “secret bottles” of Vicodin stashed in her home because the family couldn’t afford an operation and she was trying to deal with chronic pain in her knee.
Like many who suffer from chronic pain, Roseanne Conner got her meds on the black market, buying them through her neighbor Marcy, played by Mary Steenburgen.
Through Steenburgen, Dan Conner (John Goodman) realizes that many in the neighborhood are getting their meds this way.
The show’s executive producer, Tom Werner, told Forbes, “We thought we’d include issues such as a lack of proper healthcare and the prohibitive costs of medications that many face. I think the conversation between Marcy and Dan made the story quite affecting because, obviously it was an accident, but an accident that seems to be happening frequently. Their conversation became part of a larger issue of people in a community passing along drugs either not being prescribed them by a doctor, or drugs being too expensive and unaffordable. This is part of a bigger issue in this country.”
In making the decision to kill off Roseanne, Werner added, “Obviously, it is important for us to do the show respectfully. We could’ve gone down other avenues, but we felt it was the right thing for the character. As you know, it’s a crisis in this country.”
Bruce Helford, who is the showrunner of The Conners, told The Hollywood Reporter, “There was a lot of chatter in the ether about how we should explain Roseanne’s absence: Should she have a heart attack, a mental breakdown or go off into the sunset on a boat with her son? But we firmly decided against anything cowardly or far-fetched, anything that would make the fierce matriarch of the Conners seem pathetic or debased.
“I wanted a respectful sendoff for her,” Helford continued. “One that was relevant and could inspire discussion for the greater good about the American working class, whose authentic problems are often ignored by broadcast television.”
One harm reduction expert thinks cross-contamination may be to blame for cocaine “laced” with fentanyl.
More often, fentanyl is being found in cocaine, increasing the risk of opioid overdose and leaving officials scrambling to figure out why the drugs are being mixed, and if dealers actually intend to combine them.
“It’s something we have to be very concerned about,” Dan Ciccarone, a public health researcher, told Rolling Stone. “[We have] to keep following the data.”
Fentanyl is dangerous enough in the heroin and opioid supplies. However, it is especially deadly for users of cocaine, many of whom do not know what they are ingesting. Because these people are not regular opioid users they have not built up a tolerance to the drug and are therefore more susceptible to overdose.
“Part of the challenge is just how potent fentanyl is that even a small amount, particularly in someone who doesn’t regularly use opioids, can be so deadly,” said Dr. Sarah Wakeman, an addiction medicine physician. “More and more, we’re hearing stories of people who either have only used cocaine and are not a person who uses opioids, or who says ‘I bought what I thought was cocaine,’ and they suffer an overdose and it turns out to be fentanyl.”
To make matters worse, most dealers don’t even realize that their product contains fentanyl. “The street dealers are just as clueless as the users are at this point,” Ciccarone said.
In order to address the issue, experts are trying to figure out how and why fentanyl is making its way into the cocaine supply.
“Lots of experts are being asked this question and making guesses, but they are all guesses,” said Keith Humphreys, a Stanford professor and drug policy expert. “It’s quite possible that this is happening way up stream over the head of dealers, and it’s something higher up in the supply chain that isn’t very well understood.”
Although putting fentanyl in cocaine might seem malicious, experts say that likely isn’t the intent.
“Nobody wants to kill off their customer,” said Tino Fuentes, a harm reduction and overdose reversal specialist. Some people have hypothesized that dealers are trying to get customers hooked on opioids, which are more addictive than cocaine, but Fuentes said this is unlikely.
“Nobody’s trying to put fentanyl in their shit to get their coke customers [to switch] over to heroin when their business is coke,” he said.
Fuentes says that cross-contamination may be to blame.
“They’re not cleaning the scales. They’re not cleaning the grinders. They’re not cleaning the strainers,” he said. “So whatever’s left there is going to be picked up in the first batch of coke.”
The obituary recounts Madelyn Ellen Linsenmeir’s ensuing addiction to opioids and her family’s determination to help her overcome it.
The heartbreaking and loving obituary written for Madelyn Ellen Linsenmeir after her overdose death has gone viral. Her family shared Madelyn’s long struggle with addiction while reaching out to those still struggling, asking them to hold on to hope and keep trying.
Madelyn Ellen Linsenmeir died on October 7, 2018, leaving behind her family and a small son, Ayden. Madelyn’s family recounted how after a move from Vermont to Florida, she took her first OxyContin pill at a party.
The obituary, which was originally published in the Burlington Free Press, recounts Madelyn’s ensuing addiction to opioids and her family’s determination to help her overcome it.
Madelyn’s family also emphasized that she was, first and foremost, a human being who was loved.
“It is impossible to capture a person in an obituary, and especially someone whose adult life was largely defined by drug addiction. To some, Maddie was just a junkie—when they saw her addiction they stopped seeing her. And what a loss for them. Because Maddie was hilarious, and warm, and fearless, and resilient. She could and would talk to anyone, and when you were in her company you wanted to stay. In a system that seems to have hardened itself against addicts and is failing them every day, she befriended and delighted cops, social workers, public defenders, and doctors, who advocated for and believed in her till the end.”
Madelyn’s family wrote about her determination to stay sober after the birth of her son. “After having Ayden Maddie tried harder and more relentlessly to stay sober than we have ever seen anyone try at anything. But she relapsed and ultimately lost custody of her son, a loss that was unbearable.”
The family continued with unusual honesty to recount the reality of what an ongoing drug addiction does to a person. “During the past two years especially, her disease brought her to places of incredible darkness, and this darkness compounded on itself, as each unspeakable thing that happened to her and each horrible thing she did in the name of her disease exponentially increased her pain and shame.”
Yet they cherished every moment with her, writing, “For 12 days this summer she was home, and for most of that time she was sober. For those 12 wonderful days, full of swimming and Disney movies and family dinners, we believed as we always did that she would overcome her disease and make the life for herself we knew she deserved. We believed this until the moment she took her last breath.”
In 2016, 63,600 Americans fatally overdosed with nearly two-thirds of deaths involving a prescription or illegal opioid. Since 2016 the problem has only increased.
Linsenmeir’s family is just one of many that have written searingly honest obituaries illustrating the ultimate cost of addiction. When Gwen Knox lost her son Kurt to an overdose at 49 years old, she also wrote an honest and loving obituary on the reality of Kurt’s addiction that went viral.
The family asked for donations in Madelyn’s name be made to the Turning Point Center. They asked those who judge addiction issues to “educate yourself about this disease, because that is what it is. It is not a choice or a weakness.”
