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This afternoon I attended an intervention for the family member I talked about here. It was grim. He was unshaven and frail -- skeletal, really. He couldn't walk unsupported and hadn't bathed in I don't know how long (or maybe he just crapped his pants; it was hard to tell).
As we read our prepared statements, he lay on his couch and cringed and moaned. We summed up with a plea for him to check into a long-term residential program and provided information about several appropriate facilities. His only response was an appeal to his estranged wife -- completely ignoring the rest of us and our purpose. So we left.
I hope he survives, but I have little confidence he will. Still, there is some relief in knowing I can stop getting up at 2 am to make sure he's OK, or calling area hospitals trying to find him; there is some consolation in knowing that, if he doesn't survive, we did what we could do.
As we read our prepared statements, he lay on his couch and cringed and moaned. We summed up with a plea for him to check into a long-term residential program and provided information about several appropriate facilities. His only response was an appeal to his estranged wife -- completely ignoring the rest of us and our purpose. So we left.
I hope he survives, but I have little confidence he will. Still, there is some relief in knowing I can stop getting up at 2 am to make sure he's OK, or calling area hospitals trying to find him; there is some consolation in knowing that, if he doesn't survive, we did what we could do.