The Young Iron Worker

This case is back from when I was beginning in the field of addiction in the early nineties.

Paul (as I shall call him throughout this story) was a twenty-five year old iron worker that had picked up a nasty cocaine/alcohol habit. He came to us in need of detox and had been referred by his E.A.P. (employee assistance program).

This combination was quite common at the time. I had observed many of my friends on the comedy scene with this combo back in the eighties; coke, do your set, come off stage, drink your way down. This would go on some nights two or three times; especially weekend gigs with multiple shows. We would joke that the last one to do coke would be the designated driver (not that funny when I look back now).

I digress however, back to my story.

Paul at the time was one of the younger patients. In the early nineties it was extremely rare to have a patient under Paul’s age. Most of the patients in those days were in their thirties; old timers were people in their mid to late forties (my how times have changed).

During the course of his assessment it was decided that I would be his counselor.
He was upset for many reasons; his job was on the line, his family was upset with him, his wife of three years told him to leave and was undecided if she would allow him back.

So here he was, in the detox, not knowing what lay ahead of him, and feeling totally despondent about his current plight.

My main theme with him was that by coming into detox he had slammed the brakes on his addictions and that little by little he could work his way out of his predicament. I told him to “Hang in there.”

Paul was the type of patient that as his counselor I never had to prompt him in groups to participate or ask questions. He was open to any and all suggestions. When AA commitments came in the evening he could be found chatting with the group before and after the meetings. He spent his free time reading the “Big Book” of AA and calling the people he had met from the commitments that had come in to speak.

Then one day the ‘boom’ dropped on him. The bell rang down at the front door of the detox. As I opened the door there in front of me was a constable (not too hard to tell by his badge on the front of his shirt). “Good afternoon fine Sir,” I said, “how may I help you?”

“I’m here to serve a restraining order to a Mr. XYZ” (my patient Paul).

“May I come in? He asked. I responded, “Actually, no you can’t.” He seemed a bit put-off, by my remark. “We have to protect the privacy of our patients; I can’t even tell you if he is here or not.”

“His wife told me he was here,” he informed me. I responded, “Well that is interesting but the fact is, he could be here, he could have been here and left, I just don’t know.”

Before he could respond I fired back at him, “look, this is what I can do. I will go back inside and if that person is here, which I will have to check on first to see if he is, I will tell him of your presence here at the front door and suggest he meet with you.”

“Is this o.k. with you?” He looked at me and muttered, “Do I have a choice?” I responded with, “ah, no you don’t.”

Going back inside I found Paul and explained the situation to him. He went into shock, “a restraining order…how could she?”

I suggested before we try to tackle that question why don’t we go to the front door together and get the restraining order; which we did.

Essentially, the restraining order was based on her fear of him when he was using. He admitted that often times especially when coming down from cocaine he could become verbally abusive and start throwing stuff around.

Try to look at this as a chance, an opportunity, to work on yourself I suggested to him. He did not like hearing that but accepted that it was probably the best thing for him to do.

The next day he came to me after he had made a phone call to a new AA friend. Have you heard of the XYZ halfway house? I told him yes and that it had a great reputation. He said, “Well, I would like to get an interview there.” I told him I would gladly make the phone call to set-up an interview.

He went on the interview the following week and was accepted. He was on a two week wait list. In those days we had four beds at the detox that people could use while waiting for their placement (those days are long gone unfortunately), as long as they helped out around the detox.

During the wait he went to court to see if his wife would file to have the restraining order extended. Upon her learning of his plans to attend a six month program she decided not to request a continuance of the restraining order.

She made no promises however that they would get back together again upon his completion of the program. He understood. “Regardless of what happens between us, I need to take care of business.”

The time came for him to leave for the halfway house. I bade him farewell and good luck, emphasizing how much he had worked on himself and suggested he keep working as hard on himself as he did during his stay with us.

He thanked me and the rest of the staff and left to a waiting taxi.

Usually, after people leave the detox we seldom know what happens to them unless they return again for our services.

Several years after Paul left us I was with my wife at a city wide block party when I noticed three people walking towards us; a young couple and an older woman.

The man spoke first, “Willy, how are you man!” I took a closer look, “Paul, how the heck are you?” He was beaming, “doing great.” He had graduated from the halfway house, and was in good standing with his union. “Willy, I would like you to meet my wife and mother-in-law.” Now I found myself ‘beaming.’

We spoke a couple of minutes longer and then parted ways. As they turned and started to walk away I could hear his wife ask him, “Who was that?” He told her, “That was the guy who told me to hang in there…”