Progress In Two Areas

8, August 2013

THE MOM:

Okay, three areas, if we’re counting being in a house that smells good. The first thing I did upon getting back here was stand in the garden breathing sea air. DK had for once watered everything (I had left detailed instructions for once) and he’s even mastered deadheading, almost, so nothing, for once, to complain about or feel sad about seeing brown and withered. Plus house clean as a whistle and fresh sheets. And he cooked breakfast and then dinner for us. A decidedly lovely homecoming. It wouldn’t even matter if I suddenly found knickers or a hair slide that weren’t mine under the bed, that’s how happy I am to be back here inhaling roses and salt spray.

So the first area in which we have major progress is in the Subutex Department. Alex noticed he was running out about a week before we left my mother’s house in the States, thought he’d had another packet, then thought he’d lost it, then decided he hadn’t lost it, he’d just been taking too much when he first got there, hence the depleted supply. He’d forgotten they’d reduced his (“voltage” I was about to write, where’s that from??) dosage—so was initially taking the old amount. I got all this from my mother by the way, he hadn’t mentioned it to me. How in God’s name had she even processed this, let alone pass it on correctly??

In any event, for six days or so he was reduced to taking one eighth or sixteenth of what he was supposed to be taking and, here’s the important part, experienced no adverse side effects whatsoever. No withdrawal symptoms, didn’t feel sick or fluey—felt, well, fine. Normal. As soon as we got back to England he rummaged in his room and found a few grains here and there on magazine covers (he smashes the pills and snorts, not my choice but so be it) and that minute amount tided him over until he could get to the pharmacy the next morning, where more positive news awaited: it seems Alex has been such a good little recovering addict that he is now allowed to collect his prescription merely once a week instead of every day. This I guess means they are now convinced he is actually taking the stuff and not selling it on the street. (Wait. How much could we get for it? Perhaps a stand at the end of our drive might work. I’ll do the artwork and find a cute apron.)

The other area of progress regards his GED, the high school equivalency exam he’s been studying for. He’s contacted, off his own bat, the testing center in London, found out the drill, how much it costs ($50 per test so $250 for all five, plus a $20 fee per day) and you can take all at once or spread them out, whatever you want or can afford and he has filled out all the forms and is now registered. He plans to sit the test in September.

Today he went into London for the night to see his best friend, Arch, and also some guy he met at rehab in South Africa who had a gambling addiction issue. I am happy for him to go but will be even happier to see him return, and in time for his Yoga class tomorrow.

My best friend Annie in the States has an only child too, a beautiful daughter, my god daughter, who is now 30, and Annie said to me on this trip to the States that even though she wouldn’t wish on herself or her daughter what Alex and I have gone through, part of her is deeply envious of the time we have had together, that to be able to spend any time at all with one’s grown child is a blessing.

Actually she didn’t say blessing, I can’t remember the word she used, but I understand what she means. And I know that whatever time I have now with Alexander The Young Man, it is only temporary, that my job is only to get his wings untangled and then watch him fly off. Hopefully, when he does, he’ll land somewhere soft for a change.

I need to go strangle the dog now, who is objecting to some pigeons in the Norfolk pines by the shed.