Chance Happens

In 2007 my sibling died from a drug overdose. Despite all efforts, treatment, and moving him across country for recovery, he came home and died 6 days later. It started an awareness toward drug addiction in our very small community. I wrote letters to newspapers, radio, and news stations, determined that the word would be on the street. A support system was started. This took over my life. About one year into this, by chance the same month we sent my brother to treatment, exactly one year earlier to the day, my phone rang. It was a desperate mother crying for help with her 22 year old son who was addicted to Oxycontin. This was in fact the exact situation that happened to me one year earlier with my brother. My mother called me crying about my 22 year old brother who was addicted to heroin. It was like a time warp or something, it took me back. I freaked out, knowing that if I didn’t do something for this woman, she would bury her son at 23, like we did my brother. I asked to speak to her son, who was as high as a kite at the time. I said I didn’t care, knowing from experience that this might be the BEST TIME TO TALK TO HIM. I single handedly convinced this kid to get help. I found a plane ticket for him and a bed in one of the best centers, as far away from home as I could find. I had to pull some stops out along the way, begging and pleading with people to help get this kid in recovery before he died. With no money at all the parent were helpless. We didn’t have the $7500, but I didn’t care. We scraped up $2500 from friends and family and put him on an airplane the next morning at 7am. I had promised the rest of the money to the recovery center, but had idea where I was going to find $5,000 in 30 days. Somehow, we raised the money, he recovered, came home, and is now 24 and the manager of his halfway house.