Remember the girl who received a five-day suspension for bringing Tylenol to school? If that punishment seems excessive, how about a 25-year prison sentence for having Tylenol at home?
In 2004 a Florida jury convicted Richard Paey of drug trafficking involving at least 28 grams of the narcotic painkiller oxycodone, which carries a mandatory minimum sentence of 25 years. But there was no evidence that Paey, who has suffered from severe chronic pain for two decades, planned to do anything with the pain reliever except relieve his pain. And since he was taking Percocet, a combination of oxycodone and acetaminophen, the over-the-counter analgesic accounted for 98 percent of the weight used to calculate his sentence.
This penalty is both cruel and unusual; first-time offenders charged with unauthorized possession of prescription drugs typically get probation. But last week Florida's 2nd District Court of Appeal ruled that Paey's punishment is not "grossly disproportionate" enough to be considered "cruel and unusual" under the Eighth Amendment or even "cruel or unusual" under the state constitution. The court nevertheless made the rare gesture of urging Paey to seek clemency from the governor, who can commute his sentence to time served (three years) and should do so as a matter of basic decency.
Today Paey, a father of three who has multiple sclerosis and uses a wheelchair, receives morphine from a pump prescribed by a prison doctor. The drugs that led to his arrest in 1997 were the same ones his New Jersey doctor, Stephen Nurkiewicz, prescribed for the severe back pain that resulted from a 1985 car crash and the unsuccessful surgeries that followed: Percocet, the painkiller Lortab, and the muscle relaxant Valium.
After Paey and his family moved to Pasco County, Florida, in 1994, Nurkiewicz continued to treat him–a fact that highlights the difficulty pain patients have in finding doctors willing to prescribe adequate doses of narcotics. Paey said Nurkiewicz authorized all the prescriptions he filled in Florida. Nurkiewicz, who could have faced charges himself if he had backed up Paey's story, said he stopped treating Paey in December 1996.
At worst, then, Paey was guilty of fraudulently obtaining drugs for his own consumption, either to treat his pain (as he insisted) or to maintain an addiction he developed while treating his pain (as the prosecution suggested). There was no evidence he was selling the drugs or planned to do so.
But as the Florida appeals court explained, "a person need not sell anything to commit the 'trafficking' offense"; all that's required is possession of at least four grams of "any mixture containing" oxycodone. Hence each of Paey's 100-pill Percocet prescriptions, weighing in at 33 grams, qualified him as a trafficker several times over. Each also qualified him for the 25-year mandatory minimum sentence.
The prosecutors have suggested Paey's real crime was not prescription fraud but his stubbornness in turning down plea bargains. "He made his own bed here as far as I'm concerned," said Bernie McCabe, Pasco County's state attorney, after the appeals court ruling. Even assuming defendants should be punished for insisting on their right to a trial, does 25 years seem like a fair penalty?
Calling Paey's punishment "illogical, absurd, unjust, and unconstitutional," a dissenting appeals court judge faulted the prosecution for abusing the law. "With no competent proof that [Paey] intended to do anything other than put the drugs into his own body for relief from his persistent and excruciating pain," he wrote, "the State chose to prosecute him and treat him as a trafficker in illegal drugs."
Outgoing Gov. Jeb Bush, whose own daughter was sentenced to probation and treatment for trying to obtain Xanax illegally, should recognize the senselessness of punishing someone who has never trafficked in drugs for drug trafficking. The appeals court said Paey's plea for justice "does not fall on deaf ears, but it falls on the wrong ears." Let's hope the right ears are not deaf.
© Copyright 2006 by Creators Syndicate Inc.