” I learned that parents can bear almost anything. Every time we reach a point where we feel as if we can’t bear any more, we do. Things had descended in a way that I never could have imagined, and I shocked myself with my ability to rationalize and tolerate things that were once unthinkable”

The parent who wrote the above quote is David Sheff,  a writer for the NY Times. The quote comes from an article he wrote called “My addicted son”. He went on to write a book called “Beautiful Boy”. Which could just as easily been called “Jordan”.

We’ve been making a little progress with Jordan. Hard to see it sometimes when you are buried in the day to day crap. He had been doing really well on the Respiridon – brighter, more talkative. We even had a lovely supper out a few weeks ago. Then the UIC cheque came and we descended into another smoke filled black hole.

I lost it – on Greg and Jordan. Said I would no longer be witness to his death spiral and would be moving out (since Greg can’t yet get to the point of kicking him out). That he was killing himself, killing the family. As luck would have it, the next day Dr. A had a frank and honest conversation with Jordan about the deterioration he was seeing and the risk he was running of permanent cognitive function loss. Jordan sat on it for a night and then came and said he would go to Edgewood. I said if he was sincere about it, that he could check into Larson House first. So he did. Lasted 3 days. Came home and said he wasn’t comfortable there, that it didn’t feel like the place for him, that the sessions were not what he expected (they spent one session playing two truths and a lie and he struggled to see the value), could he go to Edgewood?

Made him call Edgewood and talk to a counsellor. Made sure he was aware that he had to do group sessions there as well and that he wouldn’t always understand the point behind the exercises. That he would have a roommate, have to do chores etc. That it wasn’t a spa vacation. That if he walked away from Edgewood and disapeared, that it would most likely kill us. Or at a minimum bring on the cardiac arrest that has been imminent for the last 18 months.

He still wants to go. Says he knows he needs to stop smoking and that it needs to be for the rest of his life and that he can’t do it alone. So we agreed. Truthfully, I am not overly optimistic that this will be successful. But Greg and I decided that if we don’t try it, and things continue on this downhill slide, we will always wonder if it could have made the difference.

So I am pulling escort duty on Tuesday. As seems to be the recurring pattern of the last three years, Greg is once again away when things hit a crisis point. If it was a direct flight I would just put Jordan on the plane, but the two hours in Vancouver makes everyone a little nervous. I am also a little worried about continuity of care in regards to his meds so would like to have a person to person conversation with the psychiatrist. There is also the  little matter of the downpayment…yikes…I just keep focusing on how many airmiles it will generate 🙂

But most importantly,  Jordan asked me if I would come with him. And no matter how angry and disapointed I am with him, and even though I feel as if he has beaten all feeling out of my soul – he is my kid. And I need to recognize how hard it was for him to finally reach this decision and show him that I support him. As one of the family panel members said at last year’s workshop – “Were it not for hope, the heart would break. Hope kept me alive”. So we keep hope’s light burning.

Fingers crossed.