Dear Sackler family,

Your product, OxyContin, has caused untold harm to millions of Americans.

My son, Aaron, is one of them.

Aaron suffered an accidental OxyContin overdose on 9 October 2005. Aaron overdosed on the higher dosage 160mg tablets, which were licensed by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in 2000. By the time of Aaron’s death, that dosage had been legally unavailable for over 4 years.

My husband Michael received the call that Aaron was in an emergency room and wasn’t breathing. When we arrived at the ER, the attending physician told us: “You are going to lose your son today.” My husband dropped to the ground, begging God to take him, not his son. I felt numb, frozen, hot, cold and dizzy. I slid down the cold hospital wall and landed on my husband. Together we were sobbing and pleading with God, our cries echoing throughout the halls.

I can still see Aaron lying on a silver hospital gurney; motionless, dressed only in his jeans, pulled down past his hips. His skin was almost colorless with a tint of blue on his feet and fingers. I thought to myself, Aaron looks extremely cold; my son needs a blanket.

Well, Sackler family, I watched my son Aaron lie in the ICU unit in a vegetative state, put there by your product, OxyContin, which has ravaged all of his organs.

My son was being kept alive by machines.

Additionally, while in ICU, Aaron suffered multiple seizures, two heart attacks, staph and pneumonia. Aaron’s brainstem, which enabled it to control his body temperatures, was badly damaged. As a result, Aaron’s body temperature fluctuated from dangerously high heat levels to extreme Arctic degrees. Heaters and blankets or ice packs and fans filled Aaron’s room, ready for either scenario. About our eighth day in the ICU, Aaron’s body was on fire. Despite all efforts, his temperature would not come down.

Doctors said they had one way to reduce his temperature before a massive stroke occurred. The answer? To stop his heart and then restart it. There were no guarantees Aaron’s heart would restart. I couldn’t breathe or watch. By the grace of God, Aaron is here with us another day.

When we reached day 10 in the ICU, Aaron had shown no physical or mental signs of improvement. The doctors were advocating for my husband Michael and I to withdraw care from our son, taking him off life support machines.

My husband and I now faced a decision one could never prepare for: whether or not to end our son’s life.

It’s moments like this in life that define us: who we are, who we become, sometimes unknowingly designing our futures.

Aaron’s doctors and neurologists all concluded Aaron would never regain consciousness, and he’d remain in a vegetative state.

I refused to give up on my son. Ten days was their magic number, not mine.

Aaron finally did open his eyes. They were not the gorgeous blue eyes I had recognized for 23 years, but they were open.

Aaron survived the devastation OxyContin wreaked on his body, but only just. Today he is a quadriplegic who cannot speak any more and needs 24-hour care.

Sackler family, your insatiable greed has filled cemeteries across America. But our son Aaron is not buried in a graveyard. He is buried above ground, trapped in his own body, fighting desperately to regain pieces of himself that opioid-induced darkness took from him.

Where are the pieces of my son taken by OxyContin?

The truth is, they can never be returned.

Sincerely,

Sherrie Rubin