It’s been nine years and two months since I lost my best friend, but his memory could never be lost in my mind. Each time I put on my scrubs, I remember who I do it for and why. My name is Vivian; the day my best friend overdosed, my life changed forever. We were just stupid teenagers— we got high to feel numb, or maybe just to feel in control of something in our lives. We didn’t feel capable of accomplishing much, and we didn’t have the will to try. In his passing, Aaron lit a fire within me, and I vowed to make an impact on the way that we view and treat those struggling that turn to drug usage. Now I understand just how capable I am. To reverse an opiate overdose, you can administer Narcan. Because of Aaron, I never leave the house without it. I will never forget the first time I administered Narcan. Driving on the highway, I noticed a car pulled over, and a pale body being dragged out of the car. I checked my bag for Narcan and stopped to help. I asked all on scene several questions, leading me to the conclusion that the woman had recently become unresponsive after ingesting opiates. I administered a life-saving dose of Narcan. As she regained consciousness, I couldn’t believe that I saved this woman’s life. I couldn’t believe I prevented her loved ones from the heartache that is losing someone to drug use. This day ratified my sense of purpose to help others— I knew I had to find a way to prevent drug-related deaths. I’m now in school to further my career in the medical field. Having tried my hand at EMT training, it became apparent that my path had to be more specific than just saving lives— I had to change the way we respond to overdose situations entirely. I’ve been following various harm reduction organizations for several years to stay informed and search for opportunities. I never could find quite the right position, one in which I could use my drive and unique skill set in an impactful way. Something that combined educating the population on the effects of drugs, while at the same time was at the forefront of fighting overdose. I knew I couldn’t accept the absence of such a vital role; I’d have to create the position myself. Narcan training exists; it is usually instructed by a member of a harm reduction organization at a community hub. This is undeniably crucial in preventing opiate overdose in our communities. But what happens if drug use leads to cardiac arrest or asphyxiation? How can we help these people survive? The answer is Basic Life Support training. It is time that we expand overdose prevention training to include skills like chest compressions and rescue breathing. I have my Basic Life Support certification. Gaining certification in a few short classes, I highly recommend anyone getting certified if they can. What comes next for me is not just furthering my certifications in the medical field, but becoming equipped to educate people to use these life-saving skills in tandem with Narcan training. Life support is harm reduction! There is nothing I wouldn’t do to honor Aaron’s memory. If it weren’t for him, my passion to help people may have never been ignited. Finding purpose in one of my darkest memories is just who I am. I am a dedicated, ruthless harm reductionist. I will change the way we approach drug overdose; I will leave my mark.