DrugBuyers.Com: Fentanyl patch

I read about this story in the newspaper where I live in FL
And not to sound like a heart less individual I don't Hold any Sympathy for this.-

Jesse Shanahan Benedetti, 19, died after swallowing 72 hours' worth of a drug most often prescribed to cancer patients, fentanyl.
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ST. PETERSBURG - The night before Easter, Jesse Shanahan-Benedetti planned to dye eggs with his younger brother.

Instead, Benedetti went out with a friend and missed the family ritual.

He returned hours later, quietly apologized to his father, then went to bed.

"He went into his room and died," said his father, Jerry Benedetti, 56.

Police think that in the hours before his death, Benedetti, 19, purchased a skin patch that contained a narcotic painkiller more potent than morphine. Seeking a high, Benedetti sucked the gel out of the patch and swallowed 72 hours' worth of fentanyl, a time-release opioid, at once.

He went to sleep on April 10 and never woke up.

"Why he went in this direction is really beyond me because the kid was precious, awesome, amazing," his father said.

The death also is broadening police concerns over prescription drug abuse.

"That's kind of a new wrinkle on the drug scene," said St. Petersburg homicide Sgt. Mike Puetz.

The Pinellas-Pasco Medical Examiner says 16 people died from fentanyl abuse last year. In Hillsborough County last year, 10 fentanyl-related deaths were reported.

The patch is most often prescribed to cancer patients and is available only by prescription, prompting St. Petersburg homicide detectives to investigate how Benedetti got it.

"Anybody that provides illegal narcotics to somebody that results in the proximate cause of their death can be charged with their death," Puetz said.

Benedetti was a little kid when he first stepped in the ring at the 4th Street Boxing Club. Tan and weighing 70 pounds, he had sun-bleached hair that was short in front, long in back.

"He had a lot of skill," said James McLoughlin, the club owner who trained Benedetti for several years. "Jab, right hand. Left hook. He was a kid who could put everything together."

Most people who knew Benedetti said he had many talents.

He played youth and high school football. He was good with wood, helping his father refinish tables and bars at restaurants and clubs in the Tampa Bay area. He cooked a rich pasta sauce, chock-full of pork and beef and mushrooms.

"He would cook spaghetti and homemade pizza, and he wouldn't let anyone help him," said his best friend, Chris Rogalski, 19. "He would go crazy with his garlic."

The day Benedetti was born, his father rushed home from a construction job in Clearwater and picked up Darleen Shanahan, who was in labor. A few blocks from the hospital, they realized the video camera was at home. They turned around.

"He was going to have to hold on," Jerry Benedetti said.

Benedetti's parents split up when he was young, and he lived with his father in St. Petersburg.

When Benedetti was 16, he dropped out of Northeast High School, his father said. He started experimenting with drugs and was getting in trouble.

His father said he was puzzled by his son's turn because so many things seemed to come easily to him.

Mark Ferguson, owner of Ferg's Sports Bar & Grill, would see Benedetti when he came to the restaurant to refinish tables with his father.

"He was always a very nice, polite kid. Real good manners," Ferguson said. "I just remember him always being a real help to his father, carrying the tables out."

Over the past two months, Benedetti worked with his father, remodeling Leverock's restaurant on Madeira Beach.

His father said his son seemed like he was starting to settle down. He was staying home at night.

But the day before Easter, Benedetti stayed out until 10:30 p.m. with a childhood friend who was visiting from Michigan. He was supposed to dye eggs with his 6-year-old brother, Kyle.

Early Easter morning, Jerry Benedetti sent Kyle to wake him up for breakfast. Kyle thought his brother was playing a joke when he wouldn't open his eyes.

So their father went in. He called out his son's name. He picked up his arm, but it fell like a weight. He slapped his son's cheeks.

Nothing.

"My heart just dropped," Jerry Benedetti said. "It's a father's worst nightmare."

It is not uncommon for people to abuse the fentanyl patch, which has a $25 to $40 street value, experts say.

"People think they can get high on it," said Dr. Harvey A. Siegal, professor in the Department of Community Health at Wright State University School of Medicine in Ohio. "They'll squeeze out the gel. Some people will try to inject it or mix it and drink it down. There's no way to control the dosage, and consequently, you die of respiratory arrest. Your brain goes to sleep."

The pain patch, which has been available at least 10 years, is used to treat severe chronic pain. Over 72 hours, it releases the synthetic narcotic analgesic through the skin and into the bloodstream.

"It should never be used any other way than applied to the skin," said Cathie Lincoln, clinical pharmacist at St. Anthony's Hospital in St. Petersburg. "You should never punch holes in it because that's going to destroy the whole system of delivery."

While Benedetti tried different drugs in the past, his father said he does not believe his son had used the pain patch before to get high.

"I didn't know it was out there," Jerry Benedetti said. "He made a mistake. It was an accident."

St. Petersburg police detectives have labeled Benedetti's death suspicious. They are awaiting toxicology test results from the medical examiner, who is working on the cause and manner of death.

Puetz, the homicide sergeant, declined to discuss details of the investigation because it is ongoing.

But Puetz said that if police build a case through witnesses and toxicology, whoever supplied Benedetti with the patch can be charged.

Outside Benedetti's house, friends and relatives adorned his classic 1972 Lincoln Town Car with two dozen bouquets and baskets of carnations, roses and bird of paradise. His left boxing glove, covered with handwriting, sat on the hood.

"Jesse," his cousin, Tanya Short, scrawled on the glove. "You don't have to fight anymore."

- Times researcher Kitty Bennett contributed to this report.

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the Government Ban Legal OP's in the U.S.