We're a hardy family, used to weathering all manner of surprises as we've seen four kids through various stages of toddlerhood, childhood and adolescence. So when our fun-loving 22-year-old, Nicole, shocked us by admitting a heroin addiction and asked for our help in overcoming it, my husband and I froze only an instant. Then we leapt into action, firmly believing that with the aid of 21st-century medical treatment, we could help her reclaim her life.
Surely, we thought, college-educated suburbanites like us could locate professional help: drug counselors, doctors, therapists specializing in addiction. Surely detoxification centers would treat desperate addicts and work out a payment plan. Surely we could check her into some kind of residential treatment program with a minimum of delay.
We were wrong.
The next several months of trying to get her affordable treatment were like entering some unknown circle of hell. Then the world as we knew it came crashing down when two policemen showed up -- two years ago yesterday -- to tell us that Nicole had been found dead of an accidental overdose.
We're still adjusting to life in a reconfigured family that bumps along like a wagon missing a wheel. Meanwhile, we continue to probe the gaps in the addiction treatment system to share what we learn in hopes of helping others avoid tragedy.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/10/03/AR2008100303244.htmlAbsolutely heartbreaking. :cry: