The street is a “spin dry” that Greg can’t get out of. He longs for the other life that he had during eight years in recovery – a dad to his two girls, a good job as a production manager for a vegan “butcher” business, volunteering as a soccer coach. But then came covid, and the isolation broke him. “We’ve all had that other life, and we could get back to it, be productive again. But it’s like a vortex out here, sucking us down. I don’t know how many times I’ve been through treatment, but in the end I have to come back to the Block to see my recovery team, to go to the pharmacist, and down I go again. Now I’ve got fentanyl patches, but that means a lot of treatment centres won’t take me, and I know I couldn’t bear the pain in my neck without them.” Greg can’t lift his head properly because the tip of a needle is embedded in his upper spine. Surgery is a possibility, but he’s frightened by the risk of full paralysis.