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It'sas if an eternity passed, but it's only been a few days. I move through the motions of my day, my mind constantly on something else.
My brother's court date got pushed back again. He's out of the hospital and back in prison but he's not getting better. Unfortunately, they're holding him until his sentencing.
I reached out to his probation officer and expressed my concern. He needs to be in a sober home, one he can't leave until he's cleared by both their doctors and his probation officer. Hopefully, he won't have much jail time to still serve. After pleading my case, he told me he'd get back to me.
I spent the rest of the day in between patients calling rehabilitation centers and sober homes to try to find an open bed.
I forwarded my mom and Jane the information I found and which places have openings. The best rehab centers are across the country, mainly in Arizona and California. My mom broke down in tears when I told her how far away he might be, but this'll be good for her too.
She needs to step back and let Ethan deal with his addiction.
It all started when Ethan became friends with the wrong crowd. He began experimenting with different drugs, popping pills, drinking alcohol. His last two high school years he scraped by, only doing the bare minimum in order to graduate.
On Christmas break of my freshman year of college, I'd walked in on Ethan shooting heroin in his arm before slumping lifelessly on the bed.
His first overdose and the beginning of many.
It rocked our family to the core, and our Christmas that year was strained and awkward.
It only got worse from there. Pills were too expensive, so heroin became his go to. In and out of consciousness, in and out of jobs and places to stay, it all became too overwhelming.
Five years have passed since that Christmas. Ethan has overdosed twenty-two times. Narcan has saved his life more times than not.
Will there be a day when he doesn't wake up? When it's his last overdose, his luck having run out?
The dark grip of addiction has my brother in its hold, and the grip gets tighter as time passes. He needs all the help he can get.
And, I'm going to make damned sure he gets it.
* * *
Early Friday morning,I steer my truck into my lawyer's parking lot. The sun is already high in the sky, the air warm and sticky. September is on the horizon and I hope it brings some cooler temps with it. This summer's been brutal.
Ten minutes later, I'm seated in front of Mr. Robert Callahan, an older man with gray hair and plenty of bushy facial hair. He's friendly, his smile warm and it reaches his eyes.
"So, what brings you here today, Knox?"
"Well..." I retell the entire sordid story from start to finish, not leaving out a single detail. Mr. Callahan watches me intently, his attention never wavering.
"I did some research myself, Knox, with the information you provided my secretary. I do have good news for you. All charges have been dropped."
My mouth drops open. Sharon dropped the charges? How in the hell did that happen?
"Surprised?" Mr. Callahan raises an eyebrow.
"You can say that again. I hate to play devil's advocate here, but do you know why?"
Mr. Callahan shakes his head. "No, I don't know too many details. All I know is the charges have been dropped. The one who filed the charges left no explanation."
I nod as I absorb the information. Nothing is ever simple with Sharon. I want to know the entire story because there's more I don't know.
"I'm happy to hear it turned out this way. Is it possible you can assist me with something else?"
"Sure, what is it?" Mr. Callahan scratches his beard.
