by Thornton, EJ
"I hope the worst is over," I said to George.
"Hardly," Claude said. "He's still got a long road ahead."
George and I heaved that same sigh again. We continued to pray for him the rest of the night. Pearl came to check on us and promised to pray for us. William did the same. Word had gotten to Glory that he was here and Naomi checked in on us, too, and left with our prayers on her heart as well. The battle had begun, but we had prayer warriors on our side.
Chapter 24
Morning came and Jeremi was still asleep, although it was more peaceful right after the shot, but at least the flailing had stopped. He moaned mostly. The occasional word came out, but it never made any sense. "Do you think we should go into his dream?" I asked George.
"He's too far out of it to. Maybe later."
The nurse came to wake Don and Tony for their morning routine. They took turns getting themselves ready in the bathroom. She checked on Jeremi and took his vital signs again. She patted him on the hand, as if he could hear her and said, "You hold on, honey; we'll pull you through this."
The angel with her looked back and gave us a wink. "Keep praying," she encouraged us.
The other men went to their therapy sessions and Jeremi was left alone, save the hourly nurse visit. The nurse's angel, Constance, was a great help, explaining the situation to us. She told us how exhausting the withdrawal was for his body, DTs and all. Couple that with very little sleep the night before and nobody expects him to wake much before dinnertime.
It was three o'clock when he finally began to stir. He woke up groaning and moving very slowly. He looked around at his surroundings and seemed to remember where he was and groaned even louder. I went to see if Constance could bring her charge back into the room. She did.
"I had a feeling you'd be stirring about now," the nurse said to Jeremi. Constance winked at us again. "How are you feeling?"
"Like crap," Jeremi groaned.
"That's pretty typical," the nurse continued. "You did some serious dancin' last night. We had to give you the potion to settle you back down. You might be a little sore today." Jeremi groaned again. "I'll go get you something for the pain." Jeremi's expectant eyes met hers. "Just aspirin, that's all you need." He groaned again.
She left briefly and came back with a cup of water and two pain relievers. She helped him sit up and he took the pills. "Drink it all," she instructed him. Which he did, but very slowly.
"Are you hungry?" she asked while she took his vital signs, but Jeremi shook his head. "Are you strong enough to get out of bed?" She helped Jeremi sit up. "Let's start small. How's about you go wash your face and do whatever else you might need to do by now." Jeremi slowly dragged himself to the bathroom and closed the door. "I'm right here if you need anything," she said and knocked on the door lightly.
When Jeremi emerged, she asked, "Feel better?" Jeremi nodded. "Well then, let's catch up with your group session." The nurse held the door, but Jeremi sat back down on the bed and stared at her with a look of disbelief. He and his hard head went back to bed. She stood there at the open door, still being very pleasant about it.
George and I decided to take control. Jeremi sat very close to the edge of the bed, with his arms crossed. It would be easy to put him off balance. So I suggested to him that he cross his legs. As he picked the one leg up off the floor to cross the other, George kicked him in the behind. He fell off the bed and landed on the floor. I was there to break his fall. The only thing that really got hurt was his pride.
The nurse laughed lightly. Constance, George, and I, did laugh out loud. The nurse came over and helped him up, which he tried to fend off. So we kept him down until he decided to accept her help. Once she got him up, she hooked her arm in his and walked him out the door.
Down the hall, in a large open room, "group" was underway. Jeremi and the nurse quietly came in through the back door. He tried to bolt once, but the nurse held tight. There was plenty of room on a couch near the center of the room, so the nurse directed Jeremi there. He sat down, his arms crossed and very tense. She went over and talked to the group leader. I listened, but she just told him his name, the fact that he was there for alcohol detox and that he had just awakened for the first time since experiencing the DTs. He acknowledged and she left.
There were nearly twenty people in the room watching a video. Some in street clothes, like Don, some in pajamas like Jeremi. Claude came over to see us. He explained that one could tell how long someone had been there or how well they were doing by their clothes. The new ones and the troublemakers were in the pajamas. Getting to put their street clothes back on was a privilege they had to earn.
The video they watched was about relationships and how devastating an addiction is to the "other person." It made the point, very graphically, that "I'm only hurting myself" is a tremendous lie. Jeremi chose to watch the ceiling instead of the video. He looked around the room and scoped it out. With the exception of the group leader, who acknowledged him, he looked away quickly if anyone else tried to make eye contact with him.
When the video ended, the leader introduced Jeremi as the newest member of their group and explained the rules of the group to him: Basically, they only participated if they wanted to. The group discussed the video and its parallels to their own lives. They told sad stories about how their relationships with everyone from their parents, to their spouses, to their kids, to their bosses, to their neighbors had been affected adversely. Jeremi sat there quietly with his arms crossed. It seemed like he actually listened every now and again. Don and Tony occasionally contributed to the conversation.
"It's okay if he's quiet during his first group session. He's very tired and he's feeling sick in body and spirit right about now. Take heart, his participation will pick up soon," Claude explained to us.
After the session ended, there was a dinner gathering in the back half of the room. Several of the group members' families came in. The hospital served up a buffet-style dinner of sandwich meats, breads, fruit and cheeses and punch, lots of punch and water. Almost everyone in the group converged at the back of the room to meet their visitors. Don stayed behind. Jeremi just sat there.
"Hey, you're looking better," he greeted Jeremi.
Jeremi gave him a blank stare.
"Last night, in the room. I'm your roommate," Don explained.
Jeremi continued to stare at him blankly.
"That's okay, friend. You were actually pretty out of it when you came in. Let me introduce myself to you now. My name is Don, we're roommates." He extended his hand. Jeremi kept his arms folded, but wiggled a few fingers to acknowledge Don. "Well, I'm going to go eat. I'll be seeing you around. If you want to talk just let me know." Don joined the others in the back. Jeremi turned his back on Don as he walked away. Don took it in stride.
"Let's let him see how silly he looks," Claude suggested. "Get him to look at me." George and I got to work.
Since Jeremi's back was turned to him, Claude made himself visible, only to Jeremi, however. Claude sat in the chair at the end of the couch. George and I cast our angel light onto Claude. George tapped Jeremi on the shoulder. Jeremi, being the stubborn soul he is, refused to turn around. So I called, "Hey, Jeannie!" in a voice only Jeremi could hear.
Whether it was the name I called or the sound of my voice, it worked and he did turn around. Then Claude caught his eye. Claude had decked himself out in identical pajamas to Jeremi and sat in the exact same position as Jeremi and had the same expression on his face. Jeremi sneered at Claude. Claude sneered at Jeremi. Jeremi crossed his legs away from Claude and stared away in a different direction, so did Claude. Occasionally, Jeremi would look back over his shoulder to see if Claude was still watching him. Every time he did, Claude did whatever Jeremi did. They both jerked back away from each other. Finally Jeremi had taken all he could stand, got up quickly and joined the others in the back of the room, to get away from his mirror. When he got to the back of the room, where the rest of the people were, he looked bac
k in the last place he had seen Claude, who was gone. Jeremi looked all around trying to figure out where Claude could have gotten to.
To anyone else watching him, his behavior was completely bizarre. "You okay, friend?" Don tapped on his shoulder.
"Get away!" Jeremi whipped around, but he stopped himself when he realized it was Don behind him. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."
"Who?"
"That wierd guy in the ugly pajamas," Jeremi said, then he looked down at himself and apparently realized he had the same ones on. Don gave him a very concerned look. "I just want to go back to the room."
"Have you eaten anything?"
"What I want is a drink."
"There's water and punch over there."
"You know what I mean."
"I do know, and that's why there's still water and punch over there," he repeated with the exact same inflections.
Jeremi gave him a dirty look. "I'm going back to the room," he announced and started to leave.
"Hold on, friend."
"What for?" Jeremi snapped.
"For your escort. People in pajamas have to have escorts in the hallways. I'll get you one." Don left. Jeremi threw his arms up in disbelief and frustration. He took this time to look around again, even under things, to find Claude.
Don returned with the group's leader. "This gentleman wants to go back to his room."
"Shall we?" the leader asked and swept his arms in a graceful manner in the direction Jeremi needed to go. He had an angel. He rode small on his shoulder. Jeremi and the leader left.
"Are you tired?" the leader asked Jeremi.
"I'm tired, pissed off and really want a drink."
"That's pretty common," the leader said. "Especially on your first day."
"This place is a trip."
"It's meant to be anything but that," the leader joked with him.
"I'm sure."
"My name is Bill," the leader said pleasantly.
"Jeremi Harper." They came up on the room. "Can we just keep on walking? I feel like crap. I'd rather walk than sleep right now."
"Let's keep on then." They walked on in silence around the corner and down the hall. Bill pointed out a solarium where nobody else was. "Do you want to sit?"
Jeremi nodded.
They both sat down, Bill in an oversized chair, and sat back and relaxed. Jeremi sat in the middle of the couch, close to the edge and held his head in his hands.
"Does your head hurt?" Bill asked.
Jeremi nodded. Then shook his head. He glanced at Bill. "I just feel really sick and strange."
"You're in a transitional stage, somewhere between figuring out if you can admit you have a drinking problem, doing something about it and denying responsibility for everything that has happened to you lately," Bill said gently.
"Denying what! They stuck me here." Jeremi said defensively.
"Okay. I was just like you on my first day - mostly just pissed off." Bill spoke very softly. Jeremi looked up, slightly shocked. "That's right, I'm an alcoholic. I've been sober for eight great years now," Bill said reassuringly.
"I figured all you psycho-babble types were book learners."
"Once I got sober, I went back and finished school. I got my counseling certificate and I started to help the people who wanted out. I could relate to where they had been and I knew how they were feeling. This is the best job in the world for me, it helps me remember where I came from," Bill confided. "Tell me your story, Jeremi. Where did you come from and how did you come to join us here at 'Hope'?"
"It's just a big misunderstanding, really. I'm here because this cop convinced my brother that it would help my case."
"DUI?" Bill asked. Jeremi looked down, but nodded in the affirmative. "What did you blow?" Bill asked.
"Point one four," Jeremi mumbled.
"It was point one seven," George whispered to me.
"I believe it." Bill's angel came to join us and we introduced ourselves and he introduced himself to us. "My name is Bill, too, Bill Senior. Bill's my son."
"Jeremi is my son, too," I told him.
"Are you his angel?" Bill Sr. asked me.
"Momentarily," I answered.
"I see," Bill Sr. said.
Bill Jr. let Jeremi vent. He told Bill Jr. all about the events that led up to his being brought here last evening. He left out some critical events of the evening however, like knocking Jeannie down and the fact that he'd had an open container in the car. The yarn that Bill Jr. heard was definitely told through Jeremi's brandy-colored glasses.
"I hope Bill Jr. can tell the difference between the truth and this manure. Jeremi's shoveling. If Bill's even getting half the story, I'd be amazed."
"He can tell," Bill Sr. answered. "Watch Billy's fingers." Bill Jr.'s hands were folded in his lap, so I went over and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Bill Jr. counted as Jeremi told his story. Almost every time Jeremi said something that either was a half-truth or was an outright lie, Bill Jr. scored another one. He caught almost all of them. I waas impressed.
"Billy simply lets them talk themselves into realizing their problem. Right now, he's gauging how far he has to go based on how many lies or denial of responsibilities he can see," Bill Sr. explained.
"How do you think he's doing?" I asked Bill Sr. eagerly, hoping for a positive read.
Bill Sr. shook his head and said, "Billy's got his work cut out for him this time." I looked down, but Bill Sr. put his hand on my shoulder and continued, "Martin, this is going to be hard, you need to know that, but I can feel the prayers around Jeremi; that alone will carry him a long way. He'll find that he can draw strength from those prayers and without even knowing how he's doing it. I take it you and George'll be here, plus he's got my Billy working on him. I think he's going to make it, regardless how long that road is."
"Thanks," I said. I needed a little pep talk.
"So that's it. He left and dumped me here," Jeremi concluded. He watched Bill Jr. intently. I think he was trying to figure out if Bill Jr. believed him or not. Bill Jr. nodded as if in agreement with Jeremi. So Jeremi relaxed a little.
"So, it's because she was reading a pamphlet, that now you're here," Bill Jr. said.
"Exactly!" Jeremi said emphatically and apparently amazed he'd fooled Bill Jr. so easily. I looked over at Bill Sr. in disbelief. Bill Sr. smiled slyly and pointed back to the action.
"Or you could say, it's because Karla showed up, now you're here. That works too, right?" Bill Jr. continued.
"You got it," Jeremi agreed, wholeheartedly.
"And because that cop caught you driving drunk with an open container, that now here." Bill Jr. smiled ever so slightly. "And if your brother could have just trusted you to handle your own business, you'd be in your own bed right now," Bill concluded.
"You do understand!" Jeremi was practically cheering.
"Yeah, I understand. I understand perfectly." Bill Jr.'s tone changed and he stood up in front of Jeremi and stared him down. "I understand that you refuse to take responsibility for storming out of your girlfriend's apartment in a rage because she was trying to get information on how to help you." Jeremi's jaw dropped. "I understand that you refuse to take responsibility for a confrontation between yourself and two women you had been romancing at the same time." Jeremi's eyes got really big. "I understand that you refuse to take responsibility for driving after you had been drinking." Jeremi stood up. "Sit down!" Bill commanded and Jeremi complied, but his face filled with rage. "I understand that you refuse to take responsibility for anything. Well, Jeremi, let me tell you, it's your choice. Right now is where the rubber meets the road. Either you can choose to start taking responsibility for the choices you make in life and get sober or you can leave and continue on the path to self-destruction, which believe me buddy, for you is just around the corner. The door's right there." Bill took a dramatic pause, but never lost eye contact with Jeremi. He softened, "It's your choice, Jeremi, life or death. For your sake, I hope you choose l
ife. You only get to stay if you really choose life are serious about getting sober. If you intend to waste my time by being someone who'll jerk me around, there's the door. Go enjoy jail and all the rest of the problems that are about to crash around your feet as soon as you leave this building. I have too many people who are serious about getting well." Bill walked calmly out of the room. Before the door closed, he said, "I hope I see you tomorrow."
Frankly, I was as dumbfounded as Jeremi. "Why did he do that?" I asked George. Bill Sr. had left with Bill Jr. "He's all alone here; he'll bolt like a frightened horse."
George sat down next to Jeremi, who still stared straight out into space, completely taken by surprise by Bill Jr.'s turnaround. George coached him. "It has to be your choice, Jeremi. You've just been told that you have to make the choice to stay. Your destiny is in your hands. Let's change it forever, for the better. Take hold of that life-line." Jeremi's fingers looked like they might've tried to grab at something. "Hold that life-line tight." Jeremi clenched his fist. "That's right. Hold tight."
"All angels within the sound of my voice, pray with us," George called out. "God, help us now! Let your hand be on him now as he makes this decision. Grace us with your healing presence."
The room began to radiate a wonderful light. Jeremi saw it, too; he sat on the edge of the couch and he lifted his face to Heaven. The Lord stood right in front of Jeremi and touched him on the forehead. Jeremi looked right through Him. I could tell he only saw the light.
After the Lord touched him, Jeremi dropped to his knees, still with his face lifted up. "They're all right, I am lost. I'm so confused. Help me, Jesus!" Jeremi cried.
