I was present to another miracle today and I was so excited I wanted to share it with you. There was an alcoholic client I had several months ago that cared about a little more than most. I don't know what it is about some people, some of them just sit a little closer to my heart than others. Several months ago, he completely fell off the grid - he lost his job, lost his apartment, and lost contact with everyone he knew. Several clients and the mobile outreach team talked about seeing him once in awhile either passed out in the street or on a bench. He is a good and honest man and a hard worker, and his disappearance bothered staff and clients alike.
He re-appeared on Tuesday, slumped against my building. He had asked for me, and when I went outside to talk to him, he grasped my hand tightly. His face was swollen, his eye was blackened, and his eyelashes, eyebrows, and moustache were all singed from clumsy cigarette-lighting attempts. He was about ready to break, and heartbreakingly wanted to come back to the program, come back to acceptance. I rubbed his back and told him that he had a place with us. I was able to get him up to our facility for lunch. When he started to get sick and we started talking to him about going to the hospital to detox, however, he blanched. "Have you ever been in the hospital?" he asked my co-worker. She said, "What you need is outside of our scope of care - you need medical help." He wasn't open to any offerings of help. "I'll do this myself, get my own scope of care." He stumbled out of the center with promises to return, sober, the next day. The next day, however, he was nowhere to be found, and I was afraid it would be another two months before I saw him again, if I did.
This morning, another client came for me and told me he was outside. I went to him, his face was still puffy, his pupils still tiny black dots, tears already forming in his eyes, his self-loathing written plainly all over his figure, and I took his hand. He had whiskey and soda with him this time, and while he couldn't stay on property with that, I didn't want to send him away. I again brought up the idea of a hospital and pointed out to him that when he tried to sober up on his own, he couldn't. "You can do this again, but right now you need help, and the hospital is the place you go for that." He started talking about what happens when he goes to a hospital, and I said, "I've been in a hospital for four months; I know what it's like. I also know that's where I got better, and that's what you need." He softly agreed to be taken, and I scampered off to find the worker who could take him before he changed his mind. The worker was gone, however, and I had to stay, and suddenly I was faced with a dilemma. I felt terrible sending him away, away from help he needed, away from his willingness to go to the hospital, but he couldn't be around with that alcohol. I told him as much, and sugggested he come back in 30 minutes, lunchtime, for a ride. He said he wanted to do that, but he didn't move. Thinking he wanted to stay, I said, "Or, you can give me that bottle and let me take care of it, and come upstairs with me right now." "No ma'am," he answered firmly, "I'll take care of it." I helped him up, and he shuffled off in his too-big pants and socks (no shoes on), arms full of bottles and a sweater. "I'm going to throw this away," I could hear him tell people as he scooted past them, "I'm going to the hospital." It was ironically cute and laughable and saddening all at once. I was wracked with uncertainty in my decision - did I do the right thing? Would he come back? Did he think I blew him off?
He didn't come back for lunch, but folks told me he was around. About an hour and a half after lunch, he came to the door of my center, arms clear of belongings, shoes on his feet, and said, "I threw that bottle away. I'm ready to go to the hospital."
I could have cried for the many feelings I still have to think about it: relief, love, respect, humility. It's just another thing to love about the job.
Awesome!
ReplyDelete