Back to ICU

Just 9 weeks after Sam's heroine overdose, our family finds ourselves back at the same hospital, this time with Sam's dad in ICU. He is on a morphine drip, just for the icing on the cake. He was brought in via ambulance last Saturday following a mountain bike accident. He broke his pelvis, 7 or 8 ribs, and collapsed a lung. He finally got his chest tube out today and moved out of ICU. Hopefully he will be discharged home tomorrow. Ironically, THIS is exactly the way most heroin addiction starts, through pain relief medication. He will be sent home with a variety of pain meds. He is very different from Sam in this regard, however, and if history repeats itself, he will take as little as possible and likely have some left over.

Sam's response to hearing of his dad's accident: "Dad needs to start acting like he is as old as he is." I realized that I could say the same to him as well, that HE needs to start acting like he is as YOUNG as he is. He is too young to be living away from here (although since he did turn 18 last month, he technically isn't, it just feels like it). He is too young to be a heroin addict. He is too young to have lived the life he has. He is too young to have almost died from an overdose.

Sam should be at the hospital with his siblings (and me) to support his dad. He should be a physically present part of our family. It feels like I have missed so much of his life that I was supposed to get to be a part of. Now that he is 18 it is natural for him to be growing more independent but how did drugs steal those last 2 1/2 years from me? His experience in our family is so different than that of his brothers and sister but it would be pointless to say these things to him because it won't change the past. It just is what it is.

Addicts grow up differently than other kids. Even when they are physically present, it is often only that, physical. I have heard tales of Sam having dinner with us only to find out later he was in a complete blackout. Today, however, he is sober and continues to move forward.

Sam is easing his way into the real world again back in St Paul. He got the job at the pizza place and seems to be enjoying it. He will get his first paycheck within a week or two. (Another potential trigger he will have to deal with: cash). He also went to a meeting and indoor climbing with the son of a dear childhood friend of mine this week. I am proud of him for being willing to connect with others.

They say that recovery is one day at a time. Living as the mom of an addict is also one day at a time. My son sounds so good when he calls. As I have said before, early in his recovery I was much more confident in my own perception of how things were going. Now, I know that I don't really know. I live day after day in the gray area. I have to recognize and accept that this is Sam's journey and it will play out as it will. This is the hardest part for me, that I am powerless. I can love and hope and pray but in the end, I have to accept.

It seems like everywhere I turn lately I see adds and commercials and news stories about addiction, specifically opioid addiction. Just today I was reading that the relapse rate for heroin might be as high as 90%. The world is right to be waking up to the atrocities of this drug. It truly is an epidemic that is shattering families. I don't know what the answer is, I just know that I walk in the problem and the life of my dear 18 year old son is on the line. Yes, the world is right to be waking up. You only think it can't happen to your kid until it does. Welcome to hell on earth.

I realize that even though I am beyond grateful that my son is doing well today, I miss him terribly. Times like these, when the family hunkers down in support of another, I miss him even more. He should be there, giving his dad crap in person instead of over the phone from a thousand miles away. Family dynamics have to shift as the kids grow up and sometimes they have to shift for other reasons too such as addiction, illness, divorce. etc. It's not easy, it just is.

Today, I am so grateful that Sam is sober and I recognize that my missing him pales in comparison to the miracle that he is alive today. The first 18 years of his life have turned out very differently than I would have chosen for him but if he continues to walk in sobriety, his future can be amazing. '

I love him with my heart and soul. Where there is life, there is hope. Thank you for reading. Love you. #nomoreshame