Shaking out a sheet yesterday raised my hand up over my head and got it caught in the ceiling fan. Didn't break any bones but it is swollen and bruised. Saw my son at his house yesterday and he really looked good and talked like his old self. He is the youngest of the two but still an adult as he is almost 40. We talked about his pills he receives from pain management and withdrawaling from them over time. We talked about our oldest son (his oldest brother) that no one has seen or heard from for about two months. I suspected his useage and refused to let him stay here with out during a urine test. He is a ten year survivor of stage 4 colon cancer and has been on a prescription oxycotin or roxycotin all that time. We only have two sons and both are addicts. A family member came by this weekend and told us that we would have to allow our son into our home if he has no place else to go - she is a counselor and deals with addicts all the time. Still standing firm no addicts where I reside and that is what I was rehashing in my mind when I got my hand caught in that darn ceiling fan. Going to get me a glass of ice tea and sit out on the front porch in my rocker.
I want to share something that happened to me several years back in hopes that it will benefit others in their time of despair.
Had received a strange call from my younger son one day and after hanging up received another call from a family member saying that he was going to commit suicide. Well I lost it for a period of time minute or minutes - don't recall. In my turmoil I had forgotten we had a painter in the house and at some point (after I had calm down) in he came into the living room and checked on me. I told him about the phone call from a family member. He immediately said - let us pray for him. Within months of that prayer my son gave up heroin.
I will never forget that man or that day. We may feel alone at time (and I did that day) but we are never really alone and by knowing that it gives me strength.