Early July CADS Thames renewed the Methadone prescription, but for twice weekly 'pick-ups', not once weekly, and also at this time the caseworker suggested Shane was to be given back partial responsibility for his Methadone. Reluctantly and hesitantly I agreed to Shane uplifting his take home doses of Methadone from the pharmacy, on the condition that the Methadone was put in my possession immediately upon doing so. But Shane's Methadone withdrawal didn't commence until the September, and then only reducing down, if I remember correctly at 2mgs a month. The Methadone withdrawal rate apparently is entirely up to Shane and the CADS Medical practitioner.
I had been advised at the beginning of my attempt how difficult the Methadone withdrawal aspect of Shane's drug rehabilitation was going to be, and also of the low success rate for complete Methadone withdrawal outside a professional residential facility. However, I felt confident that with Shane's desire and my determination, Methadone withdrawal and drug rehabilitation within our home environment could still be successfully accomplished. But as the months ticked by, Shane's drug abuse or 'topping-up' once again started spiralling out of control and my confidently aspired rehabilitation effort slowly, but surely crumbled into dismal failure.
On December 20th 2007, after a three day, what I knew to be Methamphetamine or (P) drug binge, Shane was removed from our home, with intructions not to return to us until he was clean of all drugs, including the Methadone. Shane was effectively being discarded out of our lives, so he now had to go it alone, without a home or any family support. It is an extreme measure often referred to as 'tough love', and one we had considered of recent weeks but always veered away from using because of the risks and implications involved. Shane had no savings, his income was the sickness benefit and his few associates were persons also with addictions living on the streets, a lifestyle we knew Shane would probably end up living as well without our support. However, this fateful day in December I finally had to concede defeat, and acknowledge Shane really did need to be in a professional residential environment to safely withdraw off the Methadone and overcome his battle with drugs. Hence, the 'tough love' option was actioned, in the hope it would eventually ensure that result, of Shane entering into a residential addiction rehabilitation centre.
Although well intentioned, it was still a difficult, heartrending decision to make and action on the day because of his state. But due to Shane's no fixed abode circumstances and for his own safety, he was thankfully admitted into a hospital unit for a few days to undergo partial detoxification.
The 'co-dependency' or 'enabling' theory springs to mind, and yes, maybe that theory does apply to all Shane's family over those years of his drug addiction, to us though it was just purely love and support, nothing else.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
MMT Campaign News
I periodically Google the title of my own blog site to chart it's progress and activity, and recently in doing so I came across a particularly important web site that had incorporated a link to my blog and posting of MMT Campaign. The web site was that of Dr Kevin Snee, Chief executive, Hawkes Bay DHB. To have my MMT Campaign recognized and acknowledged in such an important, significant way was extremely encouraging and exciting, and indicated that the campaign information and proposals forwarded out were regarded as worthwhile and constructive.
However, there are many Addiction Professionals, DHB Chief executives and Government Officials that have not responded, or in some cases not even acknowledged receipt of my MMT Campaign information, which frankly only indicates their level of, or lack of courtesy towards others opinions and suggestions. And we wonder why!! there are major failures and blunders occurring within our Government, and Government funded Organizations and Departments.
However, there are many Addiction Professionals, DHB Chief executives and Government Officials that have not responded, or in some cases not even acknowledged receipt of my MMT Campaign information, which frankly only indicates their level of, or lack of courtesy towards others opinions and suggestions. And we wonder why!! there are major failures and blunders occurring within our Government, and Government funded Organizations and Departments.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Rocky Road Of Rehabilitation
Two weeks after discharge, the heavy leg plaster cast came off and a new fibro-plaster cast was put on, and what a difference this made to Shane's, and ours I might add whole well being. It had been a difficult, frustrating two weeks with the heavy, cumbersome cast on, especially keeping the leg elevated in bed at night, and also dry when showering. However, after much thought and perseverance both these problems were solved within days of Shane being home. We ended up having to elevate the end of the bed with big blocks of wood, and wrapping the cast in plastic for showers although it was a chore, proved to be semi successful. I attended the hospital clinic appointment with Shane to view the leg wound when the old cast was removed. I was amazed how well the surgeon had stitched the leg wound considering how swollen it must have been on the day. Admittedly Shane would be left with a long, large scar down the front of his leg but, nevertheless, the stitching was beautiful work.
Shane was a good patient though and I enjoyed fussing over him. He started getting good colour back in his face and having him straight, not out of it, was a real delight for us. At week four Shane was weaned off the pain medication, but remained on the sleeping sedative and his doctor also prescribed anti-anxiety medication, to prepare him for Methadone withdrawal. In those early weeks Shane appeared to be coping alright having the correct daily dose of Methadone, and he was talking positively about long term goals and plans, which was all very encouraging. But it was early days and I feared getting to hopeful, knowing the real hard yards of rehabilitation were yet still to come, when Methadone withdrawal commenced.
Our first introductory meeting with Shane's new CADS caseworker was in early May, approximately two weeks after his discharge from hospital. Shane's appointment was for one hour but my visit with him was brief. It was just a 'getting to know you kind of meeting' and to discuss my authority for the Methadone, the reasons for it and how we would proceed with Shane's withdrawal and rehabilitation.
The caseworker was a nice, approachable young man, about Shane's age, whom appeared eager and enthusiastic to help Shane, and work with me to ahcieve a successful end result. Although it wasn't spoken, I did detect at this meeting the caseworkers slight hesitation about my personal involvement, and felt perhaps he wasn't totally agreeable with me having authority over Shane's Methadone. However, I was aware authority being granted for the Methadone was quite unique within Community Alcohol & Drug Services, so his reaction didn't surprise or perturb me. I was very thankful though, at this point that Shane was still under Manukau City, when the request was made.
The Methadone withdrawal protocol required Shane to have regular visits with his caseworker. These were weekly to begin with, extending to fortnightly, and his caseworker was prepared to travel to our home at Te Mata for some of these appointments. Having regular contact with the caseworker I felt would certainly aid Shane's withdrawal and rehabilitation process, but only if some form of professional counselling was incorporated as well. Of course, as with all counselling, trust and a general rapport must exist between both parties for the hope of a successful outcome. Sometimes, to achieve this goal, qualifications work well, other times it maybe the benefit of the counsellor's personal or professional experience. I was hoping Shane's caseworker, albiet that he was new to the service, therefore possibly inexperienced, was still a bloody good one because if he wasn't 'switched on', Shane would leave him sitting on the other side of the fence every session, especially if rehabilitation wasn't what Shane really wanted.
Like I've said, Shane's a really nice, pleasant, respectful guy. However, he is a very clever manipulator and a bit of a dark horse! He's been in the programme long enough to know what, when and how it all works. He is also extremely knowledgable about addictions and addictive behaviour, so it takes an experienced person in addiction to successfully unravel him. Over the years his manipulative, masterful approach has seen him very successfully manoeuvre his way out of many unpleasant situations. And considering Shane applies these techniques while under the influence of drugs does vindicate just how skilful he is.
I'm not putting Shane down, or being unloving by saying these things. Shane would agree with me, in fact these aren't bad qualities to have, I admire him for them. I just hope, one day, he'll get the chance to use them all for the right reasons, other than for his drug addiction.
In the June Shane's fibro-plaster cast was removed. Our weekly town days now became a tense time for us, wondering what Shane was up to, where he'd go and whom of the drug scene he may have seen. He wasn't as mobile on crutches and never ventured very far, so town days over the last weeks hadn't been a concern. At this point though Shane hadn't mentioned moving out, so again I assumed my rehabiliation plan was acceptable.
The six doses of Methadone that I picked up from the pharmacy on Thursdays were safely secured in my handbag while we were in town. Upon arrival home the Methadone would, discreetly, be taken downstairs to the basement garage and locked away in my husband's gun ammunition cupboard. If I was unable to do so immediately I would hide the bagged bottles of Methadone in my bedroom drawer until Shane was otherwise occupied. Each day's dose of Methadone was labelled, dated and it was dispensed in small individual brown bottles.
One particular Thursday, towards the end of June, Shane didn't retreat immediately to the bedroom to rest his leg, as was normal, so I hid the bottles of Methadone in my drawer until I could lock them away. To my bewilderment, there was only five little brown bottles in my drawer when I went to retrieve them, about half an hour later. Now, my responsibility for this Methadone was taken very, very seriously, so you can only imagine the sheer panic that run through me at that moment. I stood, for some seconds, just looking into the drawer at these bottles, hoping the missing bottle would suddenly materialize. My first thought in those few seconds, was that maybe the pharmacy only gave me five doses, instead of the correct six. Although, logically I knew the pharmacy would never have made a mistake like that, I was confused enough to consider it. Funny, it didn't occur to me at all that one dose may have been pinched. Foolish I know. But honestly I was freaking out, thinking 'oh my god, I'm going to have to declare I'v lost a bottle of Methadone, I better tell Shane first.'
Normally I would respect Shane's privacy and knock before I entered his bedroom, but as the door was ajar I just barged in, all upset about my loss. And, there he was, sitting on the bed, with a syringe in hand and the missing bottle of Methadone. Until that moment, I thought everything was going so well, suddenly realizing that it wasn't, made me feel betrayed, stupid and so angry. I think, seeing the syringe, was what shocked me. I could've handled Shane pinching the Methadone to drink it, but to shoot it up, no way! It was an awful moment and Shane never uttered a word. He couldn't deny it, he just, silently, put the syringe down on the bed. I picked up the syringe and the brown empty Methadone bottle, left the bedroom screaming abuse, and went straight to the lounge and threw them both on the fire.
Once calmed down, and in control, I re-entered Shane's bedroom to discuss the matter further. He was visibly upset and apologetic for his actions, and was insistant he hadn't used the syringe. I responded to his plea, saying; "Well Shane, I didn't really care whether you'd used the syringe or not, actually seeing you with it was sickening enough, so tough, it's all gone in the fire now." Shane was horrified, and stated I'd just burnt one of his doses of Methadone. Still reeling with anger I sarcastically replied; "Tell somebody who gives a shit, it's your muck up Shane not mine. We're down one days dose of Methadone now,so you just let me know which day you're going without." I left the room stating I was going to phone the caseworker and inform him of what's happened. Shane's morale was pretty low by then, so I don't really think he cared what I done at that point.
I telephoned Shane's caseworker, and in a very upset, agitated state explained what Shane had done and how, by chance, he'd found the Methadone. Ironically, the week prior to this slip-up, Shane's caseworker had made his first home visit and he'd checked the security of our Methadone lock-up downstairs. Funny that though, CADS protocol obviously never required Shane's Methadone lock-up to be checked, because in all the years he was in charge, it wasn't. I was a bit bemused by that requirement, wondering why my addict son was trusted more with the Methadone than myself. Ok Diane, let's just move, don't dwell. Of course, the caseworker wasn't emotionally involved like me, so this slip-up didn't affect him the same way. I was advised that a minor slip-up like this wasn't to be seen as a complete failure, and that it would be discussed with Shane at his next appointment. The conversation ended and I was left thinking 'Okay, that's all very well, I didn't see this slip-up as complete failure but I sure as hell did see it as possible failure.' His comment insinuated I'd over reacted, which of course didn't ease my agitated state, so phoning the caseworker proved pointless and unhelpful.
Later that day though Shane and I did talk about the incident. He admitted to knowing where I was putting the Methadone until it was locked up. For two weeks he'd resisted the urge to act on his temptations. This day, he wasn't strong enough to resist and temptation simply got the better of him. He did it on the spur of the moment when the opportunity arose. He was desperately trying to resist even after he'd put the Methadone into the syringe, and that's why he still hadn't injected it when I walked in. Shane was aware of how disheartened and disappointed I felt and assured me it wouldn't happen again.
The issue of trust can be a major drawback when you're emotionally involved with an addicted person. You want so much to trust them and believe their broken promises, but you never can. Although I was trying to trust Shane, it was usually my gut instinct that I trusted the most. My instincts only failed me that day because I'd become a little complacent, and maybe naive about Shane's rehabiliation, which had allowed this slip-up to occur. However, you learn to move on quickly from upsets and problems when dealing with addiction, if you don't, disappointments can be to devastating and deflating. Although this incident would soon be forgotten, the message behind it wouldn't, that there are consequences for every action. Shane was reminded there is a fine line that separates advantage and disadvantage, and he certainly would be disadvantaged if my love and good intentions were continually going to be abused.
My assumptions weren't wrong about Shane accepting my rehabiliation plan, he did declare his genuine desire to be clean and free of drugs. But I think, he was also like myself, a bit fearful of the process that's all. This was a mere bump in the road, and I'd be foolish to even contemplate it would be the last.
Shane was a good patient though and I enjoyed fussing over him. He started getting good colour back in his face and having him straight, not out of it, was a real delight for us. At week four Shane was weaned off the pain medication, but remained on the sleeping sedative and his doctor also prescribed anti-anxiety medication, to prepare him for Methadone withdrawal. In those early weeks Shane appeared to be coping alright having the correct daily dose of Methadone, and he was talking positively about long term goals and plans, which was all very encouraging. But it was early days and I feared getting to hopeful, knowing the real hard yards of rehabilitation were yet still to come, when Methadone withdrawal commenced.
Our first introductory meeting with Shane's new CADS caseworker was in early May, approximately two weeks after his discharge from hospital. Shane's appointment was for one hour but my visit with him was brief. It was just a 'getting to know you kind of meeting' and to discuss my authority for the Methadone, the reasons for it and how we would proceed with Shane's withdrawal and rehabilitation.
The caseworker was a nice, approachable young man, about Shane's age, whom appeared eager and enthusiastic to help Shane, and work with me to ahcieve a successful end result. Although it wasn't spoken, I did detect at this meeting the caseworkers slight hesitation about my personal involvement, and felt perhaps he wasn't totally agreeable with me having authority over Shane's Methadone. However, I was aware authority being granted for the Methadone was quite unique within Community Alcohol & Drug Services, so his reaction didn't surprise or perturb me. I was very thankful though, at this point that Shane was still under Manukau City, when the request was made.
The Methadone withdrawal protocol required Shane to have regular visits with his caseworker. These were weekly to begin with, extending to fortnightly, and his caseworker was prepared to travel to our home at Te Mata for some of these appointments. Having regular contact with the caseworker I felt would certainly aid Shane's withdrawal and rehabilitation process, but only if some form of professional counselling was incorporated as well. Of course, as with all counselling, trust and a general rapport must exist between both parties for the hope of a successful outcome. Sometimes, to achieve this goal, qualifications work well, other times it maybe the benefit of the counsellor's personal or professional experience. I was hoping Shane's caseworker, albiet that he was new to the service, therefore possibly inexperienced, was still a bloody good one because if he wasn't 'switched on', Shane would leave him sitting on the other side of the fence every session, especially if rehabilitation wasn't what Shane really wanted.
Like I've said, Shane's a really nice, pleasant, respectful guy. However, he is a very clever manipulator and a bit of a dark horse! He's been in the programme long enough to know what, when and how it all works. He is also extremely knowledgable about addictions and addictive behaviour, so it takes an experienced person in addiction to successfully unravel him. Over the years his manipulative, masterful approach has seen him very successfully manoeuvre his way out of many unpleasant situations. And considering Shane applies these techniques while under the influence of drugs does vindicate just how skilful he is.
I'm not putting Shane down, or being unloving by saying these things. Shane would agree with me, in fact these aren't bad qualities to have, I admire him for them. I just hope, one day, he'll get the chance to use them all for the right reasons, other than for his drug addiction.
In the June Shane's fibro-plaster cast was removed. Our weekly town days now became a tense time for us, wondering what Shane was up to, where he'd go and whom of the drug scene he may have seen. He wasn't as mobile on crutches and never ventured very far, so town days over the last weeks hadn't been a concern. At this point though Shane hadn't mentioned moving out, so again I assumed my rehabiliation plan was acceptable.
The six doses of Methadone that I picked up from the pharmacy on Thursdays were safely secured in my handbag while we were in town. Upon arrival home the Methadone would, discreetly, be taken downstairs to the basement garage and locked away in my husband's gun ammunition cupboard. If I was unable to do so immediately I would hide the bagged bottles of Methadone in my bedroom drawer until Shane was otherwise occupied. Each day's dose of Methadone was labelled, dated and it was dispensed in small individual brown bottles.
One particular Thursday, towards the end of June, Shane didn't retreat immediately to the bedroom to rest his leg, as was normal, so I hid the bottles of Methadone in my drawer until I could lock them away. To my bewilderment, there was only five little brown bottles in my drawer when I went to retrieve them, about half an hour later. Now, my responsibility for this Methadone was taken very, very seriously, so you can only imagine the sheer panic that run through me at that moment. I stood, for some seconds, just looking into the drawer at these bottles, hoping the missing bottle would suddenly materialize. My first thought in those few seconds, was that maybe the pharmacy only gave me five doses, instead of the correct six. Although, logically I knew the pharmacy would never have made a mistake like that, I was confused enough to consider it. Funny, it didn't occur to me at all that one dose may have been pinched. Foolish I know. But honestly I was freaking out, thinking 'oh my god, I'm going to have to declare I'v lost a bottle of Methadone, I better tell Shane first.'
Normally I would respect Shane's privacy and knock before I entered his bedroom, but as the door was ajar I just barged in, all upset about my loss. And, there he was, sitting on the bed, with a syringe in hand and the missing bottle of Methadone. Until that moment, I thought everything was going so well, suddenly realizing that it wasn't, made me feel betrayed, stupid and so angry. I think, seeing the syringe, was what shocked me. I could've handled Shane pinching the Methadone to drink it, but to shoot it up, no way! It was an awful moment and Shane never uttered a word. He couldn't deny it, he just, silently, put the syringe down on the bed. I picked up the syringe and the brown empty Methadone bottle, left the bedroom screaming abuse, and went straight to the lounge and threw them both on the fire.
Once calmed down, and in control, I re-entered Shane's bedroom to discuss the matter further. He was visibly upset and apologetic for his actions, and was insistant he hadn't used the syringe. I responded to his plea, saying; "Well Shane, I didn't really care whether you'd used the syringe or not, actually seeing you with it was sickening enough, so tough, it's all gone in the fire now." Shane was horrified, and stated I'd just burnt one of his doses of Methadone. Still reeling with anger I sarcastically replied; "Tell somebody who gives a shit, it's your muck up Shane not mine. We're down one days dose of Methadone now,so you just let me know which day you're going without." I left the room stating I was going to phone the caseworker and inform him of what's happened. Shane's morale was pretty low by then, so I don't really think he cared what I done at that point.
I telephoned Shane's caseworker, and in a very upset, agitated state explained what Shane had done and how, by chance, he'd found the Methadone. Ironically, the week prior to this slip-up, Shane's caseworker had made his first home visit and he'd checked the security of our Methadone lock-up downstairs. Funny that though, CADS protocol obviously never required Shane's Methadone lock-up to be checked, because in all the years he was in charge, it wasn't. I was a bit bemused by that requirement, wondering why my addict son was trusted more with the Methadone than myself. Ok Diane, let's just move, don't dwell. Of course, the caseworker wasn't emotionally involved like me, so this slip-up didn't affect him the same way. I was advised that a minor slip-up like this wasn't to be seen as a complete failure, and that it would be discussed with Shane at his next appointment. The conversation ended and I was left thinking 'Okay, that's all very well, I didn't see this slip-up as complete failure but I sure as hell did see it as possible failure.' His comment insinuated I'd over reacted, which of course didn't ease my agitated state, so phoning the caseworker proved pointless and unhelpful.
Later that day though Shane and I did talk about the incident. He admitted to knowing where I was putting the Methadone until it was locked up. For two weeks he'd resisted the urge to act on his temptations. This day, he wasn't strong enough to resist and temptation simply got the better of him. He did it on the spur of the moment when the opportunity arose. He was desperately trying to resist even after he'd put the Methadone into the syringe, and that's why he still hadn't injected it when I walked in. Shane was aware of how disheartened and disappointed I felt and assured me it wouldn't happen again.
The issue of trust can be a major drawback when you're emotionally involved with an addicted person. You want so much to trust them and believe their broken promises, but you never can. Although I was trying to trust Shane, it was usually my gut instinct that I trusted the most. My instincts only failed me that day because I'd become a little complacent, and maybe naive about Shane's rehabiliation, which had allowed this slip-up to occur. However, you learn to move on quickly from upsets and problems when dealing with addiction, if you don't, disappointments can be to devastating and deflating. Although this incident would soon be forgotten, the message behind it wouldn't, that there are consequences for every action. Shane was reminded there is a fine line that separates advantage and disadvantage, and he certainly would be disadvantaged if my love and good intentions were continually going to be abused.
My assumptions weren't wrong about Shane accepting my rehabiliation plan, he did declare his genuine desire to be clean and free of drugs. But I think, he was also like myself, a bit fearful of the process that's all. This was a mere bump in the road, and I'd be foolish to even contemplate it would be the last.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Discharge Day. Will Rehabilitation Be Accepted?
Well as the doctor had indicated, Shane was discharged on Friday the 30th April 2007 from Waikato hospital. This day my rehabilitation plans were going to be revealed. My husband and I travelled the nearly 2 hour trip to Hamilton tp pick Shane up from hospital in complete silence. It wasn't that we didn't have anything to say, we were both just in deep contemplation of what may lay ahead of us. I think, I was more anxious about Shane's reaction and attitude to forced rehabilitation, than fearful of taking the task on. Shane had good virtue's though, so I'd concentrate on those and, with tact, understanding and, above all, patience, maybe we would both reach a successful conclusion.
Walking into the hospital ward and hearing all the chatter and laughter amongst the four men made me realize Shane was going to miss this sort of company once he was home. I almost felt like taking them all with me just to keep his spirits up. However, Shane was eager and 'ready to roll' as he put it, so I quickly located the charge nurse for discharge paperwork, prescriptions and advice regarding his convalescence. The nurse stated that even on the Wednesday, the swelling had made Shane's ankle and leg wound surgery difficult. So for this reason, it was imperative, the leg was kept elevated until the swelling had decreased, and also why Shane still had a high level of pain and discomfort. The doctor had prescribed a weeks supply of the pain medication Tramadol and a sleeping sedative, thereafter the prescription was to be renewed by Shane's own general practitioner.
Shane was 'chirpy' enough and didn't seem to mind me dealing with the discharge paperwork, even asking if I'd got all his prescriptions as we departed the hospital ward. Which should've eased my anxiety, but it didn't. His compliance only indicated that he understood the discussion about me being responsible for his Methadone and prescriptions, not so much that he was accepting of it. And I wouldn't dare presume otherwise knowing Shane hadn't been told as yet just what that responsibility entailed. This dreaded task of explaining all to him, re: my rehabilitation plans and authorities were proposed for the trip home. I couldn't delay either as my first Methadone pick up from the pharmacy was scheduled for the following morning. I felt sure, even if reluctantly, he would accept my authority over medications but probably not so for his Methadone. But that's just the way it had to be now. My husband and I had decided we couldn't continue living with Shane's drug addiction the way it was before the accident, and yet we didn't want to kick him out of our home either, so this was our only other option. Shane on the other hand, had two options, to agree and accept what I was doing to stay with us, or disagree and leave our home, it was his choice. We were both desperately hoping of course, that he would realize we'd taken this action out of love and concern for him, not out of bitterness for what he was, therefore, would choose to stay with us.
Helping Shane into the back seat of the car and noticing how swollen and black looking his toes were reinforced my discussion with the charge nurse, and why elevation of the leg was important. But it was how well he'd handle the pain and discomfort of his leg on the long trip home that concerned me most, knowing what had to be conversed. I was praying the pain relief Shane had at miday would suffice, well at least until the dreaded task was accomplished anyway. I'd planned how and what I was going to say in my head, many, many times over, when to say it all though was my problem. I knew choosing the right moment for my conversation was imperative, if not, all 'hell' could break loose. The trip started with a reasonably cheerful, 'chatty' Shane, even humorous telling us all about his week in hospital and I kept prolonging the task, wanting to savour the mood and humour for as long as possible. However, Shane commenting about having to travel back into Thames the next morning for his Methadone and then again the following Monday morning prompted me to finally pursue the subject. I braced myself, and lovingly and tactfully told Shane how his dad and I felt and conveyed how much we loved him, so he would understand our reasons why. Then I went on to explain, as brief as I could, about the measures I'd taken and how they were going to be carried out.
Understandably, there was complete silence for some minutes from the back seat of the car. Finally Shane spoke and, in a curt manner, he asked if I was going to escort him into the pharmacy to pick up his Methadone, because that would make him feel like and idiot. I reaffirmed I had the authority to uplift the Methadone myself, therfore it wasn't necessary for us to attend the pharmacy together, and reassured him that he wouldn't be demeaned in anyway because of it. His next worry was what the pharmacist and staff's attitude would be towards him now. "With this authority you've got", he said, "they'll all know I've been a naughty boy". The tone of his voice and the way he spat the comment out did portray how 'pissed off' he was, but I understood why.
There is somewhat of a stigma attached to being on The Methadone programme. Having to consume your dose of Methadone in front of other customers in the pharmacy is demeaning in itself, so being respected and liked by the pharmacist and staff is the only pride you can hope to retain about being on the programme. And it was obvious Shane had achieved this, going by the concern all in the pharmacy had shown about his accident, and general well being. I conveyed this and told him their genuine concern was an indication of just how much they thought of him, so he didn't need to worry or be embarrassed.
Shane's final, but probably most important question, well to him anyway, was the length of time my authority for the Methadone went for. This was the sensitive, dreaded part of the conversation, and the part that was definitely going to test all those good virtue's Shane had. So, once again, I braced myself, and conveyed my authority was for as long as it took to withdraw and rehabilitate him off the Methadone. I quickly turned and looked at him and said, "Im not going to be a 'bitch', Shane, about being in charge of your Methadone and all, you'll see." Although the look, and the way his jaw was set certainly depicted his anger, it wasn't actually expressed. Shane just went quiet. But I think he handled it all very well, considering how miserable he must have felt with his leg, and I believe this was testament to his true strength of character.
Shane's next challenge upon arrival in Te Mata was getting into our home. With the heavy, cumbersome cast and leg being so painful he was fearful of knocking it, so we all sat in the car and pondered which entrance Shane should attempt. To access the front door he had ten steep steps to negotiate, and to the back door there was a steep concrete path up the side of the house to negotiate. After much contemplation the front entrance was chosen, and accomplished with his dad's help. It wasn't long though before Shane found an easier and less stressful way of entering and exiting the house by going up and down the steps on his botom, slowly one step at a time.
Up until the accident, Shane had been on twice weekly pick-ups for his Methadone. I believe, more for my convenience and authority, Shane's Manukau City CADS doctor and caseworker had renewed the Methadone prescription for weekly pick ups for the following two months. After this time the Methadone prescription would have to be renewed by CADS Thames. I was so thankful we only had to attend the pharmacy once a week for Shane's Methadone, especially in those first intial 2 -3 weeks of his injury recovery.
Shane, as explained, still had to consume his dose of Methadone in the pharmacy on my pick up days, which happened to be the day after he'd come home from hospital. The deal was that Shane would attend and consume his Methadone first, and then I'd go in and uplift his take home doses. Understandably, it was an awkward, embarrassing first visit to the pharmacy for him that day, so he entered rather hesitantly, but exited absolutely 'chuffed' that the staff had made a fuss of him. As demeaned as Shane may have felt about my authority for his Methadone, at least his pride remained intact, thanks to the kind, understanding approach by pharmacy staff.
Shane's doctors appointment to renew his medication prescription was a week after discharge, and I attended this visit. With Shane's approval it was recorded that I was to be responsible for all his prescriptions. For Shane to retain the privacy of these visits though, it was arranged with the doctor that all prescriptions were to be left at reception, for me to collect.
Shane hadn't verbally agreed or disagreed with my plans and changes, but he appeared settled and content to stay living with us, so acceptance was assumed. Although everything so far indicated that, I did realize that Shane was a bit incapacitated with the leg injury and would be until the plaster cast was removed at about six weeks. Only then would I really know how acceptable my rehabilitation plans were.
Walking into the hospital ward and hearing all the chatter and laughter amongst the four men made me realize Shane was going to miss this sort of company once he was home. I almost felt like taking them all with me just to keep his spirits up. However, Shane was eager and 'ready to roll' as he put it, so I quickly located the charge nurse for discharge paperwork, prescriptions and advice regarding his convalescence. The nurse stated that even on the Wednesday, the swelling had made Shane's ankle and leg wound surgery difficult. So for this reason, it was imperative, the leg was kept elevated until the swelling had decreased, and also why Shane still had a high level of pain and discomfort. The doctor had prescribed a weeks supply of the pain medication Tramadol and a sleeping sedative, thereafter the prescription was to be renewed by Shane's own general practitioner.
Shane was 'chirpy' enough and didn't seem to mind me dealing with the discharge paperwork, even asking if I'd got all his prescriptions as we departed the hospital ward. Which should've eased my anxiety, but it didn't. His compliance only indicated that he understood the discussion about me being responsible for his Methadone and prescriptions, not so much that he was accepting of it. And I wouldn't dare presume otherwise knowing Shane hadn't been told as yet just what that responsibility entailed. This dreaded task of explaining all to him, re: my rehabilitation plans and authorities were proposed for the trip home. I couldn't delay either as my first Methadone pick up from the pharmacy was scheduled for the following morning. I felt sure, even if reluctantly, he would accept my authority over medications but probably not so for his Methadone. But that's just the way it had to be now. My husband and I had decided we couldn't continue living with Shane's drug addiction the way it was before the accident, and yet we didn't want to kick him out of our home either, so this was our only other option. Shane on the other hand, had two options, to agree and accept what I was doing to stay with us, or disagree and leave our home, it was his choice. We were both desperately hoping of course, that he would realize we'd taken this action out of love and concern for him, not out of bitterness for what he was, therefore, would choose to stay with us.
Helping Shane into the back seat of the car and noticing how swollen and black looking his toes were reinforced my discussion with the charge nurse, and why elevation of the leg was important. But it was how well he'd handle the pain and discomfort of his leg on the long trip home that concerned me most, knowing what had to be conversed. I was praying the pain relief Shane had at miday would suffice, well at least until the dreaded task was accomplished anyway. I'd planned how and what I was going to say in my head, many, many times over, when to say it all though was my problem. I knew choosing the right moment for my conversation was imperative, if not, all 'hell' could break loose. The trip started with a reasonably cheerful, 'chatty' Shane, even humorous telling us all about his week in hospital and I kept prolonging the task, wanting to savour the mood and humour for as long as possible. However, Shane commenting about having to travel back into Thames the next morning for his Methadone and then again the following Monday morning prompted me to finally pursue the subject. I braced myself, and lovingly and tactfully told Shane how his dad and I felt and conveyed how much we loved him, so he would understand our reasons why. Then I went on to explain, as brief as I could, about the measures I'd taken and how they were going to be carried out.
Understandably, there was complete silence for some minutes from the back seat of the car. Finally Shane spoke and, in a curt manner, he asked if I was going to escort him into the pharmacy to pick up his Methadone, because that would make him feel like and idiot. I reaffirmed I had the authority to uplift the Methadone myself, therfore it wasn't necessary for us to attend the pharmacy together, and reassured him that he wouldn't be demeaned in anyway because of it. His next worry was what the pharmacist and staff's attitude would be towards him now. "With this authority you've got", he said, "they'll all know I've been a naughty boy". The tone of his voice and the way he spat the comment out did portray how 'pissed off' he was, but I understood why.
There is somewhat of a stigma attached to being on The Methadone programme. Having to consume your dose of Methadone in front of other customers in the pharmacy is demeaning in itself, so being respected and liked by the pharmacist and staff is the only pride you can hope to retain about being on the programme. And it was obvious Shane had achieved this, going by the concern all in the pharmacy had shown about his accident, and general well being. I conveyed this and told him their genuine concern was an indication of just how much they thought of him, so he didn't need to worry or be embarrassed.
Shane's final, but probably most important question, well to him anyway, was the length of time my authority for the Methadone went for. This was the sensitive, dreaded part of the conversation, and the part that was definitely going to test all those good virtue's Shane had. So, once again, I braced myself, and conveyed my authority was for as long as it took to withdraw and rehabilitate him off the Methadone. I quickly turned and looked at him and said, "Im not going to be a 'bitch', Shane, about being in charge of your Methadone and all, you'll see." Although the look, and the way his jaw was set certainly depicted his anger, it wasn't actually expressed. Shane just went quiet. But I think he handled it all very well, considering how miserable he must have felt with his leg, and I believe this was testament to his true strength of character.
Shane's next challenge upon arrival in Te Mata was getting into our home. With the heavy, cumbersome cast and leg being so painful he was fearful of knocking it, so we all sat in the car and pondered which entrance Shane should attempt. To access the front door he had ten steep steps to negotiate, and to the back door there was a steep concrete path up the side of the house to negotiate. After much contemplation the front entrance was chosen, and accomplished with his dad's help. It wasn't long though before Shane found an easier and less stressful way of entering and exiting the house by going up and down the steps on his botom, slowly one step at a time.
Up until the accident, Shane had been on twice weekly pick-ups for his Methadone. I believe, more for my convenience and authority, Shane's Manukau City CADS doctor and caseworker had renewed the Methadone prescription for weekly pick ups for the following two months. After this time the Methadone prescription would have to be renewed by CADS Thames. I was so thankful we only had to attend the pharmacy once a week for Shane's Methadone, especially in those first intial 2 -3 weeks of his injury recovery.
Shane, as explained, still had to consume his dose of Methadone in the pharmacy on my pick up days, which happened to be the day after he'd come home from hospital. The deal was that Shane would attend and consume his Methadone first, and then I'd go in and uplift his take home doses. Understandably, it was an awkward, embarrassing first visit to the pharmacy for him that day, so he entered rather hesitantly, but exited absolutely 'chuffed' that the staff had made a fuss of him. As demeaned as Shane may have felt about my authority for his Methadone, at least his pride remained intact, thanks to the kind, understanding approach by pharmacy staff.
Shane's doctors appointment to renew his medication prescription was a week after discharge, and I attended this visit. With Shane's approval it was recorded that I was to be responsible for all his prescriptions. For Shane to retain the privacy of these visits though, it was arranged with the doctor that all prescriptions were to be left at reception, for me to collect.
Shane hadn't verbally agreed or disagreed with my plans and changes, but he appeared settled and content to stay living with us, so acceptance was assumed. Although everything so far indicated that, I did realize that Shane was a bit incapacitated with the leg injury and would be until the plaster cast was removed at about six weeks. Only then would I really know how acceptable my rehabilitation plans were.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Drug Addiction, When Is Intervention Really Justified?
A quick update on my MMT campaign before posting. Most Government MPs that the information was forwarded to, did have the courtesy to at least acknowledge receipt of campaign material. The exception being Hon Tony Ryall National Minister of Health, Ruth Dyson spokesperson Labour Party, Keven Hague spokesperson Green Party, and Russel Norman National Minister of Health & Well Being. These MPs not responding at all indicates their level of respect and integrity for others views and concerns. All that responded though stated Hon Dr Jonathan Coleman held the portfolio for Alcohol & Drugs so he would be addressing the issues raised in my MMT campaign.
Hon Dr Jonathan Colemans letter regarding my MMT campaign was received 26th November. His response however was disappointing. The letter read like a transcript that had been written for him promoting the value and benefits of using Methadone. His attitude towards my views and concerns was somewhat arrogant and belittling, and he failed to really address any of the issues I'd raised. His views were definite on the treatment programme and Methadone. Quotes such as: Some people may never withdraw from Methadone but live happy, productive lives. The guidelines emphasise that long-term treatment is common for many medical conditions, and should be seen as a cost-effective way of prolonging and improving the quality of life, rather than as a treatment failure. And it's 4.2 percent of people that voluntarily withdraw from opioid substitution treatment a year, not 2 percent as you stated. He acknowledged therapeutic residential facilities have enabled many people to gain control over substance use. However, such programmes are not useful, recommended, or cost-efective for everyone with substance use problems, so that aspect of my campaign was addressed but completely disregarded. I have forwarded a letter back to Hon Dr Coleman responding to his response.
Lain Lees-Galloway, Labour Party spokesperson on Alcohol & Drugs did send an encouraging response though. Stating: I am aware you are not alone in your concerns regarding the MMT programme and that there are various opinions in the community as well as amongst treatment professionals about the way Methadone should be administered. He was interested to know what response I'd received from the Government Ministers I had written to. Copies of Hon Dr Colemans letter of response to the MMT campaign and my letter of reply dated 1st December was forwarded to Me Lees-Galloway for his interest.
I did also receive a very encouraging response from Mr Robert Steenhuisen, Regional Manager, Community Alcohol & Drug Services Auckland. He addressed at length my concerns regarding Methadone and the treatment programme, and he did so with empathy and understanding. He welcomed my comments and views and had pasted my information on to his staff. An invitation was extended to have a meeting with him at CADS Auckland to further discuss the issues I'd raised, which I will endeavour to do early next year.
There has been no response received as yet to my MMT campaign from Media, or District Health Boards, except from Garry Smith, chief executive Auckland DHB, whom asked Mr Steenhuisen to respond on his behalf. I assumed from Mr Steenhuisens letter that CADS personal are not permitted to respond unless it is approved by their area DHB, so that may be the reason for lack of response from Community Alcohol & Drug Services nationally. Readers will be updated further down the track on MMT campaign. Now to my posting and I will try and keep this one as short as possible.
Our first visit to Shane in Waikato hospital and my appointment with the hospital doctor was on the Wednesday, the day of his final surgery. I was expecting to be greeted by a stressed, edgy Shane knowing his addiction and injury status. But this wasn't the case in fact he was in a really buoyant mood and looked remarkably well considering all he'd been through over recent days. Shane did speak of his pain and discomfort but said the pain medication 'Tramadol', plus his Methadone and sleeping sedative was helping to minimize this. His good mood was apparently due to having his first cigarette this day since his admittance to Thames hospital the previous Thursday night and also this three ward companions. Shane was confined to his hospital bed with his leg in traction for elevation until until his final surgery was completed at 10am that morning. Even though he'd been on daily nicotine patches to ease his cigarette craving, he stated, they hadn't helped much and he was hanging out for fresh air and a smoke. As soon as Shane had recovered from the anaesthetic the nurse located a wheelchair and one of the men from his ward took him outside for a cigarette. Obviously, he'd been a good patient and room mate, or otherwise the staff nurse and his ward companion wouldn't have been so helpful and obliging.
I was so thankful of his buoyant mood and attitude because we'd decided that on this visit Shane would be forewarned to some degree about my rehabilitation plans, thus allowing him time to hopefully accept the changes before being discharged. Which the doctor had indicated would be on the Friday. Although necessary, it was a task I wasn't looking forward to especially knowing how protective he was of his drugged lifestyle. However, Shane listened intently as I calmly and briefly explained that I'd be responsible for his Methadone and medications upon his return home. Even though he accepted the news with dismay, it was very clear he understood why. Choosing to omit telling Shane though, of the extreme measures I'd taken for that responsibility was intentional, knowing how sensitive the issue of my authority, especially for his Methadone, would be. Privacy and lots of diplomacy, I knew, were going to be required to fully explain this news. Therefore, this would be done on his discharge from hospital. Overall I thought the visit and discussion went quite well, considering the bombshell I'd dropped.
Although Shane seemed reluctant to talk about the accident, it was obvious by his comments that he'd reflected enough to know how lucky he'd been to have survived it with only leg injuries. Maybe the experience had frightened him, I hoped so.
The authority paperwork, requiring my signature and identification had been faxed through from CADS to the Methadone dispensing pharmacist in Thames. All paperwork had been duly signed, verified and was ready to commence upon Shane's discharge.
Although I did feel confident and eager about rehabilitating Shane, there were moments of doubt and also this instinctual gut feeling of apprehension that was constantly churning within me about it. I'd done all the research so I knew there were more negatives than positives regarding forced rehabilitation, and that's what I was basically doing. Did Shane want it? Yes, deep down I think he did. I'm sure most of those that are addicted loath and hate what drugs have done to them, I knew Shane did. He always referred to himself as a 'scumbag' drug addict. He'd witnessed what normal life was like for others around him and what they had accomplished, especially his two siblings. Just simple things like husbands, wives and families while his life had stood still, and had done so for twenty odd years now, all because of drugs. He had so much potential, and that's what was so heartbreaking for me about his addiction. Shane did have the desire and loath of his drug lifestyle, but I think he honestly feared normal life as well. Anyway, at what point or stage in a persons addiction is intervention really justified? Do we wait until they are dead? Or maybe laying in hospital in a comotose state? For days now I had grappled with my decision about taking control of Shane's life/addiction, but the answer was always the same, do it now because later just might be to late. Those in life that have never failed, have never tried to succeed.
I would like to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and a happy festive season.
Hon Dr Jonathan Colemans letter regarding my MMT campaign was received 26th November. His response however was disappointing. The letter read like a transcript that had been written for him promoting the value and benefits of using Methadone. His attitude towards my views and concerns was somewhat arrogant and belittling, and he failed to really address any of the issues I'd raised. His views were definite on the treatment programme and Methadone. Quotes such as: Some people may never withdraw from Methadone but live happy, productive lives. The guidelines emphasise that long-term treatment is common for many medical conditions, and should be seen as a cost-effective way of prolonging and improving the quality of life, rather than as a treatment failure. And it's 4.2 percent of people that voluntarily withdraw from opioid substitution treatment a year, not 2 percent as you stated. He acknowledged therapeutic residential facilities have enabled many people to gain control over substance use. However, such programmes are not useful, recommended, or cost-efective for everyone with substance use problems, so that aspect of my campaign was addressed but completely disregarded. I have forwarded a letter back to Hon Dr Coleman responding to his response.
Lain Lees-Galloway, Labour Party spokesperson on Alcohol & Drugs did send an encouraging response though. Stating: I am aware you are not alone in your concerns regarding the MMT programme and that there are various opinions in the community as well as amongst treatment professionals about the way Methadone should be administered. He was interested to know what response I'd received from the Government Ministers I had written to. Copies of Hon Dr Colemans letter of response to the MMT campaign and my letter of reply dated 1st December was forwarded to Me Lees-Galloway for his interest.
I did also receive a very encouraging response from Mr Robert Steenhuisen, Regional Manager, Community Alcohol & Drug Services Auckland. He addressed at length my concerns regarding Methadone and the treatment programme, and he did so with empathy and understanding. He welcomed my comments and views and had pasted my information on to his staff. An invitation was extended to have a meeting with him at CADS Auckland to further discuss the issues I'd raised, which I will endeavour to do early next year.
There has been no response received as yet to my MMT campaign from Media, or District Health Boards, except from Garry Smith, chief executive Auckland DHB, whom asked Mr Steenhuisen to respond on his behalf. I assumed from Mr Steenhuisens letter that CADS personal are not permitted to respond unless it is approved by their area DHB, so that may be the reason for lack of response from Community Alcohol & Drug Services nationally. Readers will be updated further down the track on MMT campaign. Now to my posting and I will try and keep this one as short as possible.
Our first visit to Shane in Waikato hospital and my appointment with the hospital doctor was on the Wednesday, the day of his final surgery. I was expecting to be greeted by a stressed, edgy Shane knowing his addiction and injury status. But this wasn't the case in fact he was in a really buoyant mood and looked remarkably well considering all he'd been through over recent days. Shane did speak of his pain and discomfort but said the pain medication 'Tramadol', plus his Methadone and sleeping sedative was helping to minimize this. His good mood was apparently due to having his first cigarette this day since his admittance to Thames hospital the previous Thursday night and also this three ward companions. Shane was confined to his hospital bed with his leg in traction for elevation until until his final surgery was completed at 10am that morning. Even though he'd been on daily nicotine patches to ease his cigarette craving, he stated, they hadn't helped much and he was hanging out for fresh air and a smoke. As soon as Shane had recovered from the anaesthetic the nurse located a wheelchair and one of the men from his ward took him outside for a cigarette. Obviously, he'd been a good patient and room mate, or otherwise the staff nurse and his ward companion wouldn't have been so helpful and obliging.
I was so thankful of his buoyant mood and attitude because we'd decided that on this visit Shane would be forewarned to some degree about my rehabilitation plans, thus allowing him time to hopefully accept the changes before being discharged. Which the doctor had indicated would be on the Friday. Although necessary, it was a task I wasn't looking forward to especially knowing how protective he was of his drugged lifestyle. However, Shane listened intently as I calmly and briefly explained that I'd be responsible for his Methadone and medications upon his return home. Even though he accepted the news with dismay, it was very clear he understood why. Choosing to omit telling Shane though, of the extreme measures I'd taken for that responsibility was intentional, knowing how sensitive the issue of my authority, especially for his Methadone, would be. Privacy and lots of diplomacy, I knew, were going to be required to fully explain this news. Therefore, this would be done on his discharge from hospital. Overall I thought the visit and discussion went quite well, considering the bombshell I'd dropped.
Although Shane seemed reluctant to talk about the accident, it was obvious by his comments that he'd reflected enough to know how lucky he'd been to have survived it with only leg injuries. Maybe the experience had frightened him, I hoped so.
The authority paperwork, requiring my signature and identification had been faxed through from CADS to the Methadone dispensing pharmacist in Thames. All paperwork had been duly signed, verified and was ready to commence upon Shane's discharge.
Although I did feel confident and eager about rehabilitating Shane, there were moments of doubt and also this instinctual gut feeling of apprehension that was constantly churning within me about it. I'd done all the research so I knew there were more negatives than positives regarding forced rehabilitation, and that's what I was basically doing. Did Shane want it? Yes, deep down I think he did. I'm sure most of those that are addicted loath and hate what drugs have done to them, I knew Shane did. He always referred to himself as a 'scumbag' drug addict. He'd witnessed what normal life was like for others around him and what they had accomplished, especially his two siblings. Just simple things like husbands, wives and families while his life had stood still, and had done so for twenty odd years now, all because of drugs. He had so much potential, and that's what was so heartbreaking for me about his addiction. Shane did have the desire and loath of his drug lifestyle, but I think he honestly feared normal life as well. Anyway, at what point or stage in a persons addiction is intervention really justified? Do we wait until they are dead? Or maybe laying in hospital in a comotose state? For days now I had grappled with my decision about taking control of Shane's life/addiction, but the answer was always the same, do it now because later just might be to late. Those in life that have never failed, have never tried to succeed.
I would like to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and a happy festive season.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Harsh Decisions, Will The Means Justify The End?
Sorry my postings are a bit long, it's difficult to keep to my story short with so much to explain.
For years I'd watched with a heavy heart Shane's decline into the hell hole of drug addiction without really knowing what to do about it. I'd witnessed his torment and guilt and listened to his promises, but still didn't know what to do about it. I just kept hoping and praying year after year that one day Shane would find the strength to finally cast his demons out, but alas that hadn't happened. A mother's hopes and dreams can't be foiled that easy though, hence the reason why I never once in those years considered abandoning Shane's battle with drugs.
In all honesty though, he had continued to withdraw down his daily dose of Methadone, so he was making an effort to cast his demons out. However in doing so, had been with the ever increasing risk that his abuse of other substances deployed. My concern now was would the means justify the end. This was a dilemma I feared and one that I was in constant turmoil about, and worsened of course by the fact that I had no control over what the end may be for Shane.
But that fateful night of his accident proved my worst fears, that the means doesn't always justify the end. I also determined at this point that intervention was required to allow Shane to be safely rehabilitated off drugs. My intent was to gain authority to uplift and administer Shane's Methadone and medications, removing the temptation would help solve his drug abuse problem and hopefully keep him safe. I would attempt to rehabilitate him myself in the home enviroment, but professional rehabilitation facilities would be investigated if difficulties arose. So his accident although upsetting was to turn my dilemma into opportunity, it's success however, was an unknown entity.
I realized to do this would mean, basically, taking control of every part of Shane's life, especially the Methadone, which he was very protective of. Contolling someone's life might sound harsh and drastic, and it is. But an addicted person doesn't have control over their lives anyway, the addiction does. So, really, I was only taking control of the addiction, not the person. As a persons addiction progresses so does the risk and irresponsibility attached to it, and I didn't need research to verify this, it was a pattern I'd witnessed, always watching, waiting and wondering, what to do about it. I knew in my heart Shane never had a death wish, so I definitely wasn't prepared to accept death for him on any level, but certainly not by drugs anyway.
It's time to stop wondering, I told myself, just do whatever it takes now. At least, gaining authority for Shane's Methadone and medications would give me some control over the abuse. I thought, if he doesn't abuse then his mind will become clearer, and, in time he will see how good it feels to not be so drugged up. Yes, it was being fanciful to think this, but feasible enough to believe it.
Well, it was the morning after Shane's accident and, even without sleep I felt invigorated. Some huge decisions had been made overnight and I was eager to get the authority process underway, and have my rehabilitation plan established ready for Shane's discharge from hospital in a weeks time. Contact was made daily with Waikato hospital for udates on Shane's medical status. Shane had two trips to theatre, one on his first day in hospital, the Friday and again on the Sunday, to clean the leg wound. After the last wound cleansing on the Sunday an open plaster cast was put on the leg. The following Wednesday, Shane had his last trip to theatre to stitch the leg wound and pin the breaks in his ankle, then a more permanent plaster cast was applied, his leg remained in this cast for six weeks. So his leg had suffered quite serious, significant injuries, which did reinforce the decisions I'd made and the reasons for them.
The first stage of my plan was contacting Shane's CADS caseworker in Manukau City, firstly, to inform him of Shane's accident and injuries, also of his serious abuse of other substances and the Methadone. All of which had been responsible for the events that had lead to his accident and near death the previous night. Secondly, to inform him of my intention to gain authority to uplift and administer Shane's Methadone, to hopefully end his abuse, hence, keep him safe.
I hadn't had a lot of contact of recent years with Community Alcohol & Drug Services regarding Shane and the Methadone. However, my past contacts with them about my concerns hadn't been all that satisfying due to their obligation to protect Shane's privacy. Therefore, I knew how this request for authority might be viewed. But this time, I was staunch in my belief that, privacy issue or not, my concerns were justified and weren't going to be flogged off. I was determined to battle whomever I had to within the service to gain authority for Shane's Methadone, and that was that.
But, surprise, surprise, this time I received a courteous, understanding response. Shane's CADS caseworker listened intently as I explained the accident, injuries and Shane's drug abuse. He understood that my intent for authority was out of desperation and despair to help Shane. To my great relief, no privacy issues were quoted this time. And my concerns were immediately acknowledged and accepted as serious by Shane's caseworker. He also agreed, under the circumstances, my request for authority of the Methadone wasn't unreasonable, and gave assurances it would be taken up urgently with the CADS medical practitioner/Director. The CADS protocol to gain approval required Shane's injury status and blood results being verified and confirmed with Waikato hospital. Final approval for authority was granted later that same day by the CADS medical practitioner/Director.
I was also informed by the caseworker of Shane's blood test results that were taken on admittance to Thames hospital, and they confirmed abnormally high amounts of 'Benzodiazepines' in his system. Which confirmed my concerns and I'm sure aided my approval for authority over the Methadone. Shane's drugged state was obvious on admittance anyway, but I feared a drug overdose may occur if severe pain relief was administered. So as a precautionary measure I'd spoken with the attending doctor re: Shane's addiction, drug abuse and Methadone. Doctors are naturally cautious, especially with the obvious so it was stupid of me to assume bloods wouldn't be taken before pain relief was administered, all the same the doctor was respectful of my concerns. Hence, Shane had a very painful, uncomfortable night, but did receive his dose of Methadone and strong pain relief on arrival at Waikato hospital the next morning. But I'm more than certain all those 'Benzo's' in his system would've helped ease his pain anyway.
Shane's caseworker was extremely knowledgeable about addictions inn general, and explained some of the problems that can be experienced when withdrawing off Methadone. Which most I'd experienced first hand dealing with Shane, but he was such a nice man that I extended him the courtesy of listening anyway. He did explain the rehabilitation process, and that it can be slow and difficult outside the professional arena of a residential centre. However, I was informed that Shane's transfer to CADS Thames had been completed, and Shane's new caseworker would be working closely with myself and Shane with the rehabilitation and withdrawal off the Methadone process.
Stage two of the plan was contacting Shane's general practitioner to inform her of what had befallen Shane and why, and to make her aware Shane will abuse any medications prescribed, and for that reason it was my intent to gain authority over all his medications upon his discharge from hospital. The doctor only required Shane's approval for me to be given this auhtority. I didn't foresee a problem gaining that, once his situation was realized upon discharge from hospital.
Stage three was making an appointment with the doctor in charge of Shane's care at Waikato hospital. With whom I discussed the drug abuse, why and how Shane's accident happened, his injury convalenscence, our concerns for his safety, and of my request for authority over all his prescriptions upon his discharge from hospital. My authority request was granted without hesitation. I did realize the approvals for authority from CADS and the doctor at Waikato hospital were only granted due to the circumstances of Shane's accident and his drug addiction problem. All concerned were aware that my intention for authority was, firstly, to try and keep Shane safe and, secondly, to attempt rehabilitation.
The last phase of my plan included contacting residential rehabilitation facilities within the Auckland region, for professional advice on Shane's addiction, rehabilitation methods, and also the criteria regarding entry into their treatment facilities. This inquiry was a back up measure, just in case I needed it.
I'd been extremely busy organizing my plan, but I'd also fought all day with my conscience about the right and wrongs of the decision for authority, and what I was about to do but, in the end decided it was my only option to minimize Shane's drug abuse.
Shane had abused over a long period of time so to regain control of the addiction he now needed to be stabilized. Removing control would accomplish this, as it would remove the temptation for further abuse. With these 'authorities for control' and the extra knowledge I'd acquired through research, I was hopeful, and quietly confident, of reclaiming my son's life and soul back from the evil and darkness that addiction had shrouded him with for many years now.
Although quietly confident, I was slightly nervous though about having to explain to Shane the contacts I'd made and the measures I'd taken since he'd been in hospital. I fully expected him to question everything I'd done, especially my authority over his Methadone with some distaste and anger. But, after many years of waiting, I now had the opportunity to finally crack Shane's addiction. Even the anticipation of small disagreements and problems on his return home from hospital, couldn't faze the positivity flowing within me about this.
The first stage of Shane's rehabilitation plan was his convalescence, and it was important not to just strengthen his body, but his mind and soul as well. Love and respect would restore Shane's dignity and self worth, but pride in his life, and the value of it, wouldn't be so easy to restore. This addiction journey had been a difficult one for all concerned, but as I'd grown older the journey was becoming more difficult for me, so I knew this had to be my final battle.
Rehabilitating Shane wasn't the challenge, but removing the addictions that had plagued him for years was. Shane had multiple addictions now, so each addiction, including the Methadone, would have to be dealt with separately. I felt two years to achieve this goal was being realistic. The proverb 'you can conquer anything with faith, love, courage, and strength,' I hoped, was true.
For years I'd watched with a heavy heart Shane's decline into the hell hole of drug addiction without really knowing what to do about it. I'd witnessed his torment and guilt and listened to his promises, but still didn't know what to do about it. I just kept hoping and praying year after year that one day Shane would find the strength to finally cast his demons out, but alas that hadn't happened. A mother's hopes and dreams can't be foiled that easy though, hence the reason why I never once in those years considered abandoning Shane's battle with drugs.
In all honesty though, he had continued to withdraw down his daily dose of Methadone, so he was making an effort to cast his demons out. However in doing so, had been with the ever increasing risk that his abuse of other substances deployed. My concern now was would the means justify the end. This was a dilemma I feared and one that I was in constant turmoil about, and worsened of course by the fact that I had no control over what the end may be for Shane.
But that fateful night of his accident proved my worst fears, that the means doesn't always justify the end. I also determined at this point that intervention was required to allow Shane to be safely rehabilitated off drugs. My intent was to gain authority to uplift and administer Shane's Methadone and medications, removing the temptation would help solve his drug abuse problem and hopefully keep him safe. I would attempt to rehabilitate him myself in the home enviroment, but professional rehabilitation facilities would be investigated if difficulties arose. So his accident although upsetting was to turn my dilemma into opportunity, it's success however, was an unknown entity.
I realized to do this would mean, basically, taking control of every part of Shane's life, especially the Methadone, which he was very protective of. Contolling someone's life might sound harsh and drastic, and it is. But an addicted person doesn't have control over their lives anyway, the addiction does. So, really, I was only taking control of the addiction, not the person. As a persons addiction progresses so does the risk and irresponsibility attached to it, and I didn't need research to verify this, it was a pattern I'd witnessed, always watching, waiting and wondering, what to do about it. I knew in my heart Shane never had a death wish, so I definitely wasn't prepared to accept death for him on any level, but certainly not by drugs anyway.
It's time to stop wondering, I told myself, just do whatever it takes now. At least, gaining authority for Shane's Methadone and medications would give me some control over the abuse. I thought, if he doesn't abuse then his mind will become clearer, and, in time he will see how good it feels to not be so drugged up. Yes, it was being fanciful to think this, but feasible enough to believe it.
Well, it was the morning after Shane's accident and, even without sleep I felt invigorated. Some huge decisions had been made overnight and I was eager to get the authority process underway, and have my rehabilitation plan established ready for Shane's discharge from hospital in a weeks time. Contact was made daily with Waikato hospital for udates on Shane's medical status. Shane had two trips to theatre, one on his first day in hospital, the Friday and again on the Sunday, to clean the leg wound. After the last wound cleansing on the Sunday an open plaster cast was put on the leg. The following Wednesday, Shane had his last trip to theatre to stitch the leg wound and pin the breaks in his ankle, then a more permanent plaster cast was applied, his leg remained in this cast for six weeks. So his leg had suffered quite serious, significant injuries, which did reinforce the decisions I'd made and the reasons for them.
The first stage of my plan was contacting Shane's CADS caseworker in Manukau City, firstly, to inform him of Shane's accident and injuries, also of his serious abuse of other substances and the Methadone. All of which had been responsible for the events that had lead to his accident and near death the previous night. Secondly, to inform him of my intention to gain authority to uplift and administer Shane's Methadone, to hopefully end his abuse, hence, keep him safe.
I hadn't had a lot of contact of recent years with Community Alcohol & Drug Services regarding Shane and the Methadone. However, my past contacts with them about my concerns hadn't been all that satisfying due to their obligation to protect Shane's privacy. Therefore, I knew how this request for authority might be viewed. But this time, I was staunch in my belief that, privacy issue or not, my concerns were justified and weren't going to be flogged off. I was determined to battle whomever I had to within the service to gain authority for Shane's Methadone, and that was that.
But, surprise, surprise, this time I received a courteous, understanding response. Shane's CADS caseworker listened intently as I explained the accident, injuries and Shane's drug abuse. He understood that my intent for authority was out of desperation and despair to help Shane. To my great relief, no privacy issues were quoted this time. And my concerns were immediately acknowledged and accepted as serious by Shane's caseworker. He also agreed, under the circumstances, my request for authority of the Methadone wasn't unreasonable, and gave assurances it would be taken up urgently with the CADS medical practitioner/Director. The CADS protocol to gain approval required Shane's injury status and blood results being verified and confirmed with Waikato hospital. Final approval for authority was granted later that same day by the CADS medical practitioner/Director.
I was also informed by the caseworker of Shane's blood test results that were taken on admittance to Thames hospital, and they confirmed abnormally high amounts of 'Benzodiazepines' in his system. Which confirmed my concerns and I'm sure aided my approval for authority over the Methadone. Shane's drugged state was obvious on admittance anyway, but I feared a drug overdose may occur if severe pain relief was administered. So as a precautionary measure I'd spoken with the attending doctor re: Shane's addiction, drug abuse and Methadone. Doctors are naturally cautious, especially with the obvious so it was stupid of me to assume bloods wouldn't be taken before pain relief was administered, all the same the doctor was respectful of my concerns. Hence, Shane had a very painful, uncomfortable night, but did receive his dose of Methadone and strong pain relief on arrival at Waikato hospital the next morning. But I'm more than certain all those 'Benzo's' in his system would've helped ease his pain anyway.
Shane's caseworker was extremely knowledgeable about addictions inn general, and explained some of the problems that can be experienced when withdrawing off Methadone. Which most I'd experienced first hand dealing with Shane, but he was such a nice man that I extended him the courtesy of listening anyway. He did explain the rehabilitation process, and that it can be slow and difficult outside the professional arena of a residential centre. However, I was informed that Shane's transfer to CADS Thames had been completed, and Shane's new caseworker would be working closely with myself and Shane with the rehabilitation and withdrawal off the Methadone process.
Stage two of the plan was contacting Shane's general practitioner to inform her of what had befallen Shane and why, and to make her aware Shane will abuse any medications prescribed, and for that reason it was my intent to gain authority over all his medications upon his discharge from hospital. The doctor only required Shane's approval for me to be given this auhtority. I didn't foresee a problem gaining that, once his situation was realized upon discharge from hospital.
Stage three was making an appointment with the doctor in charge of Shane's care at Waikato hospital. With whom I discussed the drug abuse, why and how Shane's accident happened, his injury convalenscence, our concerns for his safety, and of my request for authority over all his prescriptions upon his discharge from hospital. My authority request was granted without hesitation. I did realize the approvals for authority from CADS and the doctor at Waikato hospital were only granted due to the circumstances of Shane's accident and his drug addiction problem. All concerned were aware that my intention for authority was, firstly, to try and keep Shane safe and, secondly, to attempt rehabilitation.
The last phase of my plan included contacting residential rehabilitation facilities within the Auckland region, for professional advice on Shane's addiction, rehabilitation methods, and also the criteria regarding entry into their treatment facilities. This inquiry was a back up measure, just in case I needed it.
I'd been extremely busy organizing my plan, but I'd also fought all day with my conscience about the right and wrongs of the decision for authority, and what I was about to do but, in the end decided it was my only option to minimize Shane's drug abuse.
Shane had abused over a long period of time so to regain control of the addiction he now needed to be stabilized. Removing control would accomplish this, as it would remove the temptation for further abuse. With these 'authorities for control' and the extra knowledge I'd acquired through research, I was hopeful, and quietly confident, of reclaiming my son's life and soul back from the evil and darkness that addiction had shrouded him with for many years now.
Although quietly confident, I was slightly nervous though about having to explain to Shane the contacts I'd made and the measures I'd taken since he'd been in hospital. I fully expected him to question everything I'd done, especially my authority over his Methadone with some distaste and anger. But, after many years of waiting, I now had the opportunity to finally crack Shane's addiction. Even the anticipation of small disagreements and problems on his return home from hospital, couldn't faze the positivity flowing within me about this.
The first stage of Shane's rehabilitation plan was his convalescence, and it was important not to just strengthen his body, but his mind and soul as well. Love and respect would restore Shane's dignity and self worth, but pride in his life, and the value of it, wouldn't be so easy to restore. This addiction journey had been a difficult one for all concerned, but as I'd grown older the journey was becoming more difficult for me, so I knew this had to be my final battle.
Rehabilitating Shane wasn't the challenge, but removing the addictions that had plagued him for years was. Shane had multiple addictions now, so each addiction, including the Methadone, would have to be dealt with separately. I felt two years to achieve this goal was being realistic. The proverb 'you can conquer anything with faith, love, courage, and strength,' I hoped, was true.
Monday, November 29, 2010
The Devil On One Shoulder An Angel On The Other
In the September of 2006 my husband and I relocated as planned to Te Mata, a lovely coastal settlement about 25 kilometres out of Thames. Shane's employment problems were semi resolved so he remained in Pukekohe. Without onsite drug testing available the allegations of drug use in the workplace couldn't really be established and I think Shane used this to his advantage. But his work performance and quality of spray painting may have been his saviour as well. Although no further action was being taken Shane said all the fuss had created a bit of tension between himself and certain members of staff, including management. However, he was confident this would remedy itself in time and assured us that him and his job would be fine, so to go and enjoy our retirement. I wasn't surprised by this employment outcome at all really knowing how clever and masterful Shane was at manipulating people and situations. Not, usually, with a destructive intention in mind, but just to dig himself out of the holes his drug addiction constantly created for him. His cunning never seem to desert him if his back was against the wall. This move and our retirement had been anticipated for so long though that nothing could faze me, not even Shane's work drama's.
Oure home at Te Mata was situated in a small quiet clue-de-sac one street off the main coast road. It was an elevated site so had amazing sea views over the firth of Thames from the front, and the rear of the property backed onto native bush and trees which was abundant with bird life. The Tui and Wood Pigeons soon became our two most favorite birds of enjoyment. We'd sit on our large back deck area and soak up the splendour of this wonderful place, and agreed that this was definitely like living in paradise. We sold the alloy boat we'd owned for years and had replaced it with a slightly larger, fibreglass, cabin boat, in anticipation of all the family fishing trips to come. Our retirement dream was shaping up well and, for the first time in many years, my husband and I were enjoying a life free of stress. We quickly learned that the secret to relaxation was being retired beach-bums.
There were some days that Shane and how he was doing in Pukekohe was still foremost in my thoughts, but these days became less frequent as the weeks went by. Having the distance between us and the lovely beach lifestyle also helped, and didn't allow me to remain negative or worry for to long though. What will be, will be I continued to tell myself. My contact with Shane was sparse, but not so with my daughter and eldest son living in Pukekohe, and they allayed my concerns as well in those early weeks. However, Shane's life began to unravel about the November with another vehicle accident, and my concerns for him were resurrected. Apparently there were road works in Pukekohe and Shane had failed to see the warning signage one evening when returning from work. Shane's excuse for the accident was that the road work signs hadn't been placed in the correct position!!!!! He wasn't injured but the vehicle did suffer extensive suspension damage and was uninsured, so once again he sold the car to the auto wreckers for parts in lieu of the towing fee. Fortunately, Shane didn't have expensive tastes when it came to purchasing vehicles. Transport to his employment was still viable through a co-worker who also resided in Pukekohe, so I guess that was something he could be thankful of. I'd always had some concerns about Shane driving under the influence of drugs anyway. But studies of recent years have also concluded that Methadone taken in high doses can impair driving ability, and that's without anything else being in the system so this accident and Shane not having a vehicle was almost a blessing in disguise for me.
Well, our lives in paradise were definitely in for a change because as the year 2006 was coming to an end, so was Shane's employment. Shane said management had never really accepted the outcome of the work place drug use issue, so making him reduntant due to a slowing of the market was just their way of getting rid of him.
So it was January 2007 that Shane moved in with us at Te Mata. Enrollment with the pharmacy in Thames was immediate, but until a Thames CADS caseworker was allocated his treatment case file remained with Manukau City. Shane was always congenial and compromising, so he wasn't difficult to live with but his drug abuse was emotionally disruptive and this issue was adressed with Shane upon arrival. For this reason it was reiterated to him that, from this point on, I personally, wouldn't tolerate any form of abuse where his Methadone or other substances was concerned. Shane's reassurance that I needn't worry, that he wouldn't muck up anymore, was only semi comforting and, I guess, part of me did remain ever hopeful that this time he really meant what he said. Shane was also instructed upon moving in that a serious, concerted effort to withdraw off Methadone was now expected, which he agreed to do, as soon as he was allocated a caseworker in Thames. The last 3 months had been a time of contemplation regarding Shane's drug addiction and my options. I decided my support for Shane in his bid for drug freedom would continue, but with a different, more resolute approach.
Well, my new approach worked in the interim but slowly that crumbled as Shane's 'topping-up' spiralled out of control again. Confrontations between myself and Shane regarding his drug abuse with the Methadone were many, his sorrow, guilt and promises though always spurned me on. One night in April 2007 after one such confrontation, Shane, packed his bags and left, it was about 7pm so it was dusk. He had a large canvas army type back pack on and was carrying a smaller pack. Walking with all this weight on, and in an extremely drug induced state was dangerous, but I was still reeling from our confrontation, so the stongest emotion I was feeling at that time was anger and frustration, not protection. However, I reassured myself that Shane would be safe enough to walk the 2 kilometres to Tapu, he'd hold up in the reserve there, reflect on his actions and return home.
About 10pm that night a vehicle stopped at our gate, I went out to investigate and saw Shane slowly making his way up the driveway, he was hobbling, in terrible pain, and his clothing was saturated. Questioning Shane about what had happened was met with some confusion. The only thing he seemed to be sure about was that he had a bloody sore leg, and foot. Once inside I could see the damage and injury, his foot and ankle was extremely swollen and going black, but it wasn't until he took his wet jeans off that the full extent of his leg injuries became apparent. He had this huge, open gash, it was deep, right down his shin bone, from just beneath his knee down to his foot, and it was the same leg as his ankle injury. Hence, the Thames Accident & Emergancy department was immediately contacted to prepare for our arrival.
The trip into Thames from our home takes approx. 25 minutes, this gave me time to establish how Shane had obtained his injuries. Shane stated he sat in the Tapu reserve for a while, he wasn't sure how long he was there for, but it was dark when he decided to continue walking into Thames. He remembered walking some distance on the coast road and the next thing he was in the sea, almost drowning. He realized his foot was jammed between rocks and his back pack was weighing him down in the water. He took his pack off, but had to yank and pull really hard to free his jammed foot to get himself out of the water. Once out of the water he then tried climbing back up the steep rock face to the road. Feeling his way up the sharp rock face in the darkness of night was difficult, and he fell, three times back into the water. Shane said he knew he'd hurt his foot bad and was terrified he wasn't going to get back up on the road until morning. He said that fear must have created an adrenaline rush and, with determination, his forth attempt to climb up to the road was successful. Once up on the road he hobbled only a short distance when two nice, young guys picked him up and brought him home.
Shane's account of the event left me feeling flabbergasted and speechless. The stretch of road that Shane fell off, is very narrow, windy and it drops off some 25mtrs onto a rocky foreshore, and at high tide it is very deep water all along there. If Shane had fallen a different way and hit his head on the rocks, he would've been knocked out. If that had been the case, then there is no doubt, in my mind, he would've drowned. Once again anger filled me at his stupidity and disregard for life. Frankly, I think he fell off the road because he dropped off to sleep while walking due to all the drugs in his system.
Shane's leg injuries were serious, and he was admitted into Thames hospital that night and transferred to Waikato hospital the next morning for surgery and specialist treatment for the leg wound. Shane required 3 surgical procedures and spent 1 week in Waikato hospital.
It was 1.30am when my husband and I finally left the Thames hospital that night. The night was dark and calm, and driving along the coast road was quite spooky. We realized approaching Tapu, in the darkness of night, just how treacherous this section of the coast road is. My husband stopped the car and turned the lights off, then the darkness of night time and the road was just horrifying. Shocked and in disbelief I remarked to my husband. "What the hell was Shane thinking, attempting to walk this road at night? He's just dam lucky, with the injuries he sutained, that he even managed to climb back up the rock face onto the road, but even luckier then that he didn't get hit by a car. You know, somebody up there, or whatever, was really looking after Shane tonight".
That night though, I vowed Shane's demon's weren't going to invade him much longer. I would get him clean of drugs myself one way or another by taking over his life, well, the addiction anyway. So this accident was the turning point that changed the boundaries of Shane's battle for drug freedom.
To fear the unknown is to be fearful of life itself and, at my age and in my lifestime, I thought I'd experienced all the unknowns in life. But the following year to come, dealing with Shane's final drug addiction battle, was testament to how truly fearful the unknown can be.
Oure home at Te Mata was situated in a small quiet clue-de-sac one street off the main coast road. It was an elevated site so had amazing sea views over the firth of Thames from the front, and the rear of the property backed onto native bush and trees which was abundant with bird life. The Tui and Wood Pigeons soon became our two most favorite birds of enjoyment. We'd sit on our large back deck area and soak up the splendour of this wonderful place, and agreed that this was definitely like living in paradise. We sold the alloy boat we'd owned for years and had replaced it with a slightly larger, fibreglass, cabin boat, in anticipation of all the family fishing trips to come. Our retirement dream was shaping up well and, for the first time in many years, my husband and I were enjoying a life free of stress. We quickly learned that the secret to relaxation was being retired beach-bums.
There were some days that Shane and how he was doing in Pukekohe was still foremost in my thoughts, but these days became less frequent as the weeks went by. Having the distance between us and the lovely beach lifestyle also helped, and didn't allow me to remain negative or worry for to long though. What will be, will be I continued to tell myself. My contact with Shane was sparse, but not so with my daughter and eldest son living in Pukekohe, and they allayed my concerns as well in those early weeks. However, Shane's life began to unravel about the November with another vehicle accident, and my concerns for him were resurrected. Apparently there were road works in Pukekohe and Shane had failed to see the warning signage one evening when returning from work. Shane's excuse for the accident was that the road work signs hadn't been placed in the correct position!!!!! He wasn't injured but the vehicle did suffer extensive suspension damage and was uninsured, so once again he sold the car to the auto wreckers for parts in lieu of the towing fee. Fortunately, Shane didn't have expensive tastes when it came to purchasing vehicles. Transport to his employment was still viable through a co-worker who also resided in Pukekohe, so I guess that was something he could be thankful of. I'd always had some concerns about Shane driving under the influence of drugs anyway. But studies of recent years have also concluded that Methadone taken in high doses can impair driving ability, and that's without anything else being in the system so this accident and Shane not having a vehicle was almost a blessing in disguise for me.
Well, our lives in paradise were definitely in for a change because as the year 2006 was coming to an end, so was Shane's employment. Shane said management had never really accepted the outcome of the work place drug use issue, so making him reduntant due to a slowing of the market was just their way of getting rid of him.
So it was January 2007 that Shane moved in with us at Te Mata. Enrollment with the pharmacy in Thames was immediate, but until a Thames CADS caseworker was allocated his treatment case file remained with Manukau City. Shane was always congenial and compromising, so he wasn't difficult to live with but his drug abuse was emotionally disruptive and this issue was adressed with Shane upon arrival. For this reason it was reiterated to him that, from this point on, I personally, wouldn't tolerate any form of abuse where his Methadone or other substances was concerned. Shane's reassurance that I needn't worry, that he wouldn't muck up anymore, was only semi comforting and, I guess, part of me did remain ever hopeful that this time he really meant what he said. Shane was also instructed upon moving in that a serious, concerted effort to withdraw off Methadone was now expected, which he agreed to do, as soon as he was allocated a caseworker in Thames. The last 3 months had been a time of contemplation regarding Shane's drug addiction and my options. I decided my support for Shane in his bid for drug freedom would continue, but with a different, more resolute approach.
Well, my new approach worked in the interim but slowly that crumbled as Shane's 'topping-up' spiralled out of control again. Confrontations between myself and Shane regarding his drug abuse with the Methadone were many, his sorrow, guilt and promises though always spurned me on. One night in April 2007 after one such confrontation, Shane, packed his bags and left, it was about 7pm so it was dusk. He had a large canvas army type back pack on and was carrying a smaller pack. Walking with all this weight on, and in an extremely drug induced state was dangerous, but I was still reeling from our confrontation, so the stongest emotion I was feeling at that time was anger and frustration, not protection. However, I reassured myself that Shane would be safe enough to walk the 2 kilometres to Tapu, he'd hold up in the reserve there, reflect on his actions and return home.
About 10pm that night a vehicle stopped at our gate, I went out to investigate and saw Shane slowly making his way up the driveway, he was hobbling, in terrible pain, and his clothing was saturated. Questioning Shane about what had happened was met with some confusion. The only thing he seemed to be sure about was that he had a bloody sore leg, and foot. Once inside I could see the damage and injury, his foot and ankle was extremely swollen and going black, but it wasn't until he took his wet jeans off that the full extent of his leg injuries became apparent. He had this huge, open gash, it was deep, right down his shin bone, from just beneath his knee down to his foot, and it was the same leg as his ankle injury. Hence, the Thames Accident & Emergancy department was immediately contacted to prepare for our arrival.
The trip into Thames from our home takes approx. 25 minutes, this gave me time to establish how Shane had obtained his injuries. Shane stated he sat in the Tapu reserve for a while, he wasn't sure how long he was there for, but it was dark when he decided to continue walking into Thames. He remembered walking some distance on the coast road and the next thing he was in the sea, almost drowning. He realized his foot was jammed between rocks and his back pack was weighing him down in the water. He took his pack off, but had to yank and pull really hard to free his jammed foot to get himself out of the water. Once out of the water he then tried climbing back up the steep rock face to the road. Feeling his way up the sharp rock face in the darkness of night was difficult, and he fell, three times back into the water. Shane said he knew he'd hurt his foot bad and was terrified he wasn't going to get back up on the road until morning. He said that fear must have created an adrenaline rush and, with determination, his forth attempt to climb up to the road was successful. Once up on the road he hobbled only a short distance when two nice, young guys picked him up and brought him home.
Shane's account of the event left me feeling flabbergasted and speechless. The stretch of road that Shane fell off, is very narrow, windy and it drops off some 25mtrs onto a rocky foreshore, and at high tide it is very deep water all along there. If Shane had fallen a different way and hit his head on the rocks, he would've been knocked out. If that had been the case, then there is no doubt, in my mind, he would've drowned. Once again anger filled me at his stupidity and disregard for life. Frankly, I think he fell off the road because he dropped off to sleep while walking due to all the drugs in his system.
Shane's leg injuries were serious, and he was admitted into Thames hospital that night and transferred to Waikato hospital the next morning for surgery and specialist treatment for the leg wound. Shane required 3 surgical procedures and spent 1 week in Waikato hospital.
It was 1.30am when my husband and I finally left the Thames hospital that night. The night was dark and calm, and driving along the coast road was quite spooky. We realized approaching Tapu, in the darkness of night, just how treacherous this section of the coast road is. My husband stopped the car and turned the lights off, then the darkness of night time and the road was just horrifying. Shocked and in disbelief I remarked to my husband. "What the hell was Shane thinking, attempting to walk this road at night? He's just dam lucky, with the injuries he sutained, that he even managed to climb back up the rock face onto the road, but even luckier then that he didn't get hit by a car. You know, somebody up there, or whatever, was really looking after Shane tonight".
That night though, I vowed Shane's demon's weren't going to invade him much longer. I would get him clean of drugs myself one way or another by taking over his life, well, the addiction anyway. So this accident was the turning point that changed the boundaries of Shane's battle for drug freedom.
To fear the unknown is to be fearful of life itself and, at my age and in my lifestime, I thought I'd experienced all the unknowns in life. But the following year to come, dealing with Shane's final drug addiction battle, was testament to how truly fearful the unknown can be.
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