When the DEA Knocks on Your Door

By Jason Cole

A shotgun’s cock echoes through the hallways of your apartment building as they announce their warrant, and the paws of a large dog rake the paint off your front door.

Formalities. The boots storming through the hall let the whole building know someone is going have a lot of guns pointed at him.

“Me? Oh, I stopped caring about people a long time ago…”

You just got done using your medicine. Indica.

The next hours were sup-posed to be sacred. Yearning for relief overtook the last half of the day, holding hands with the pain so common to your medical condition. Work had spiraled into a drag, the final minutes a struggle to keep your elbows on your chair. The cubicle’s petty com-plaints hung lower than usual from the cold cathode in the ceiling, fogging your screen.

You could complain every day. You don’t. It never fixed anything. Never will.

“COME OUTSIDE WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD, OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO USE … FORCE!”

The barks grow louder. Did they bring two dogs? Why did they bring two dogs? The remote falls out of your hand before you can turn the TV off. The first ram against your door bangs you back into your seat. The pressure doesn’t leave, no matter how hard your fingers squeeze the arms of your chair.

You try to relax your hands.

They won’t.

You’ve read about this before. You know how it works.

Crack! Carbon black barrels puncture through the door, launching splinters throughout your living room. The shouts are so loud they’re lost to each other. Riot masks pour into the cor-ners farthest from your chair while three dogs (why did they bring three dogs?) scream “DINNER” at your knees. In seconds, the safety of your living room is squashed under rifles struggling to keep it in, tank boots, and flashlights that could singe ants.

The body armor looks thicker every time you see it. Or maybe it’s just big-ger in person. Must be hot under there …. There aren’t people behind the masks.

None that you can see, anyway. Tears blur the scene. A crime scene, you think. Your home is just a crime scene. You know how this works.

“Why do you do thi-”…

“SILENCE, OR WE’LL BE FORCED TO SHOOT.”

They can shoot people for talking now. You knew the world you lived in was strange, but …. The dogs whimper as their handler yanks the leash back through the door.

Do they hurt everything they touch?

“GET ON THE FLOOR. NOW.”

You’ve known how this works for a while. You’ve just never known it would actually happen. The last thing you hear as they push you out of your home is your TV breaking. The chronic pain grows out of control in prison. The doctor says you respond poorly to their medicine.

“No, you just aren’t using the right medicine,” you crack at her.

“It’s not legal ….” She grabs another syringe full of Demerol.

You knew how this worked.

You just didn’t know how to prevent it from happening. If you told Gov. Edward Rendell that he was constitutionally obligated to protect Pennsylvania’s patients from an out-of-control, blatantly illegal operation against the American people, would his brows furrow?

If U.S. Sen. Robert P. Casey could lose three seconds of his war against equality and education, and instead listen to the people who somehow voted him into office … again, would he take you seriously if you said it was his job to protect Pennsylvanians from federal abuse? Do you think he would even respond? Would he become so offended, he would cut the education budget even further and demand that anyone without blond hair and blue eyes submit their identities to police every third Wednesday?

Do any of these people, put into office to address your concerns and fight for your voice, even care about the treat-ment of patients?

Will Mr. Rendell ensure the safety of Pennsylvania’s patients? Or will he too allow the indiscriminate dismantling of medical infrastructure and mistreatment of patients common to other states. Write off. Write off. Write off.

Do any of these people, put into office to address your concerns and fight for your voice, even care about the treat-ment of patients?

Only one way to find out.

Ask them.

Ask them if they think it’s okay for federal power to cause undue harm against patients trying to maintain their quality of life.

Ask them if they think the money spent on stronger body armor and steadier shotguns would be better spent on researching how to improve people’s lives instead of destroying them .

Ask them if it is OK for a government to fund departments whose sole purpose is to make criminals out of innocent people.