Former Granbury paramedic turns son’s death into mission to save others from opioid overdose

Paramedic Callie Crow is still new to the grieving process. After all, only two and a half years have passed since her son Drew died and, well, how can any parent ever truly heal from that kind of loss?

Nevertheless, she has found a way of coping that she hopes would have made her son proud.

Shortly after Drew died of fentanyl toxicity in June 2020 at age 27, the former captain with Texas EMS in Granbury founded a nonprofit organization called “Drew’s 27 Chains” and began conducting trainings on how to use naloxone to reverse the effects of an opioid overdose.

Crow calls naloxone, or Narcan, which is its brand name, a “miracle drug” because it not only pulls people back from the brink of death if they are experiencing an opioid overdose, but it also does no harm if someone has gone unresponsive for a different reason.

Even toddlers and the elderly are safe from unintentional harm, she said.

Crow stated that Senate Bill 1462, passed by the Legislature in 2015, “allows anyone in the state of Texas to have access (to) and possess naloxone” and to administer it without liability to anyone who is unresponsive.

“You can never hurt someone if there are not opioids in their system,” Crow said. “There are no side effects. It does nothing. But if they did have an opioid overdose, you have now just saved their life.”

Crow’s first training was with the Granbury Police Department, in December 2020.

Last month, she taught the lifesaving skill to chamber ambassadors. She is scheduled to give presentations at Premier High School and for Leadership Granbury in January.

Although Crow has focused on police officers and first responders, the wife and mother of three has expanded her trainings to members of the public because anyone is capable of saving a life.

“Although there are lots of people that think that they’re not around this, they are because if you’re in public, you’re around it,” she said. “And you have the potential to save someone’s life if you are educated and have the product.” 

DREW’S PURPOSE

Drew, handsome and 6 feet, 4 inches, was married and a journalism student at the University of North Texas at the time of his death. He had struggled with addiction for at least 10 years, his mother said.

On the night the overdose happened, he was home with his wife. They were filling out paperwork for the upcoming semester.

“He was laying on the bed behind her and had been answering questions and talking with her,” Crow said. “And then he stopped talking, and she assumed that he had fallen asleep. And then he began to (exhibit) some very classic signs of an opioid overdose, which are snoring, respirations and gurgling. He was very pale, he was sweating and he wasn’t responding to her.”

Drew’s wife called 911 in a panic. Drew had a box of Narcan in the apartment, Crow said, but his wife didn’t know what it was or how to use it.

A police officer was first on the scene. He had Narcan, too, but for some reason did not use it on Drew, Crow said. By the time EMS arrived seven minutes later, Drew was in cardiac arrest.

“I sat with him in the ICU because he lived for 36 hours afterwards,” Crow said. “I began to kind of replay what that scene looks like and, you know, it’s a familiar scene for me. And then I wondered why the officer would not have deployed his Narcan, and that became sort of my focus as I sat there and began to process the fact that my son was dying.”

She continued, “And I had a little conversation with Drew and said, you know, I don’t know what to do with this. And, really, I wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere, but I felt like that would be a disservice to Drew. I started to realize that I believed that his purpose was exactly what was happening, and that he could help others through his own struggle. So, I decided right then and there that I was going to do something about it.” 

CROW’S PURPOSE

Drew’s 27 Chains was formed within days or weeks of Drew’s death, Crow stated. The word chains refers to the chains of addiction that held Drew back and the “chain of custody” that represents first responders and others who come to the aid of those with substance abuse disorders.

With her trainings Crow focuses mainly on rural areas where it might take longer for EMS to arrive and where police officers who are first to arrive on a scene might be able to save someone’s life.

Crow’s presentation includes telling Drew’s story and educating participants on how to administer naloxone, a process that she said is quite easy to do.

She recommends ZIMHI, which is a higher dose injectable naloxone. It also comes in a nasal spray, but Crow recommends the injectable.

Crow said that for the past several months U.S. WorldMeds, which produces ZIMHI, has provided her with a free supply of the product, which she shared with chamber ambassadors and others she has trained.

Between her training, the free supply of ZIMHI and naloxone that has been given to law enforcement agencies, “we’ve saved 40 lives,” Crow said.

One of them was an 18-year-old male who suffered respiratory and cardiac arrest at the Sonic in Cresson in September. Thirteen local first responders were later honored in a public ceremony for saving the young man’s life.

Through Drew’s 27 Chains, Drew’s death has led to lives being saved.

Although the nonprofit has given Crow a mission, she said she has days when she doesn’t want to move and doesn’t want to talk about Drew.

“Those days are rough and, honestly, they have become more frequent,” she said. “As time goes on, you would think that they would become less frequent. It’s a crazy balance. And grieving is a new thing for me. I’ve never lost anyone.”

Still, Crow finds meaning in her work and in her son’s death.

“I felt like I had a choice,” she said. “I could crawl into a hole somewhere and not want to live, or I could give Drew a really big purpose. To think that he has done so much in his death, that makes me really proud and happy.”