Doctor's Orders

55. Treatment, Part 2

"I know, Ell. I just don't want you to feel like life with me is always going to be a struggle. I want us to be happy and healthy and strong together, you know?" 

I pulled him down to meet my lips while the water cascaded around our faces. "I know what you mean. Now as long as I know you're not walking away and you know I'm not walking away, we already have what it takes to go through this, right?"

"Right," he said, capturing my mouth again and giving me a deep and strong kiss. "I love you so much, baby."

"I love you, too, Harry." 

When Harry was ready to go to his first day of treatment, I hugged and kissed him profusely and told him how much I believed in him. I even reminded him of the inscription on his watch. The first week, he attended full day sessions with both individual and group therapy as well as other treatment sessions where he learned some tools for reshaping his thought patterns and behavior towards alcohol. I was fascinated by the things he was learning and found that some of the principles were universal, such as letting go of control. We can all benefit from that on occasion, realizing that we're never completely in control of our life and circumstances, and then learning to find peace with that. 

"I'm proud of you, babe," I told him at the end of his first week. I had just come home from my shift at the hospital; he'd already been home for a few hours, so he had dinner waiting for me. 

"For what?" 

"For having the courage to go to therapy this week; to accept help."

"Yeah," he nodded almost imperceptibly. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"You do have a choice, actually," I reasoned. "You could have just ignored Dr. Kone's requirements, lost your job and stayed home. You have money, so you could just live off  your wealth, right?" He nodded again. "But you're choosing to take the steps to free yourself from this, and to get back to doing what you love. You have to own that, okay? That's your choice to own it, not to let yourself feel like someone is forcing you to do this."

"I know," he said, shrugging. He  gave me an embarrassed little smile. "It's just hard."

"It will be hard for a while, but it will be worth it in the long run, won't it?" 

"Of course," he smiled. 

When we were getting ready for bed, I asked, "Do your parents know?" 

He froze and I couldn't tell what his reaction was going to be. "It never occurred to me, to be honest. I mean, I suppose they should know."

"It's up to you," I told him. "It's not like everyone in the world has to know, but they're family. I know they'd want to support you. And what about Gemma?" 

He shook his head, and muttered, "Gemma will kill me. But she knows I've had some issues with this before, so it won't be a complete shock. Maybe I'll talk to her before I talk to my folks." 

The next day, we called Gemma on FaceTime and Harry told her everything. He wanted me by his side, so I sat quietly while they talked and popped my face into the picture from time to time. Harry was partly right, Gemma was upset with him, but in the end, she told him that she was proud of him for accepting help. She assured him that she still loved him, which was exactly what he needed at the time. 

The next part was going to visit his parents. I wondered how this would go, since I didn't know them extremely well; I just hoped they showed as much love and compassion as Gemma had, even though her disappointment was clear as well.

His mother greeted us at the door with warm hugs, as always. We shook off our heavy coats and handed them to her while we pulled off our snowy boots. I loved that his parents were retired and enjoyed staying home together rather than feeling like they had to fill their days with things that would take them away from each other. They were still quite busy, but today was a slow, relaxing day and Anne had sounded delighted when Harry called to tell her we were coming for a visit. 

We settled into the family room by the fire as always. Harry's dad came wandering in just a bit later and took a seat next to Anne. 

"Well," Harry began, swallowing so hard that his Adam's apple bulged out. "I have to talk to you about something." I was fairly sure that his serious tone alerted them to the fact that this wasn't going to be an engagement or baby announcement.

"What's wrong, love?" His mother immediately asked, her eyes filling with concern.

He took a deep breath and just blurted it out. "I'm on administrative leave from the hospital." He paused, gathering more courage. "For drinking on the job." 

Anne's eyes went wide with shock while Des shouted, "What?! How could you be so stupid?"

"Des!" Anne snapped at her husband.

He paid her no mind and continued, "Your career is at risk, you know that, right? They don't look upon these things lightly."

Harry met his father's concern with an irritated, "I know that, Dad." He rubbed his hands harshly over his face and then sat back, putting his hands behind his head. "I know I screwed up-"

"You sure as hell did screw up!" His father bellowed. 

"Des, calm down!" Anne commanded.

Harry continued in an irritated voice. "Like I said, I know I screwed up. I'm in treatment, and I'm going to start AA this week." 

Des had stood up and was pacing back and forth behind the sofa. "I just don't understand. How the hell could you let this happen?" Said the man who was always pushing Harry to have a drink.

"I don't know, Dad," Harry replied sarcastically. "Maybe it started with the fact that I finished med school at 22. Or the fact that I held down a job while I went through med school, even though I didn't need the money. I don't know! I always felt pressured to be the best, you know? I couldn't very well waste my brilliant mind on anything mundane like sports or friends."

Des looked at him curiously. "What are you talking about? Are you blaming this on us? You think we put too much pressure on you?" 

Harry looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I'm not blaming anyone, Dad," he said slowly. "I'm just saying that I had a stressful education, and it was even more stressful to throw myself into such a competitive environment when I was so young. I mean, I wanted it, too. I wanted to be the prodigy, the golden child." He stopped and hung his head down low. I reached over and slipped my hand into his. "I guess I just didn't realize how much it would cost me." 

"This has been going on since college?" Anne asked weakly. "How...Why didn't you ever tell us?" 

"Think about it, Mom," he said in the most respectful way possible. "I had all this promise and I just wanted to make everyone proud. What was I supposed to do? Come home one day and say, By the way, I think I have a drinking problem?" 

"You know we would have understood, honey," she argued.

"You might have," Harry said. "Dad doesn't seem too thrilled."

"You want me to jump for joy that you're an alcoholic?" His dad seethed, and then he stormed out of the room. 

There was hurt in Harry's eyes and he didn't try to hide it. Anne came and knelt in front of him while I put my arm around his shoulder. "I can't say I'm not heartbroken about this," she began with tears in her eyes. "But you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I wish you had let me help you."

Harry bit his lip and his voice cracked. "I might not have wanted help back then."

"But you do now, right?" She asked. 

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he said, shaking his head and swiping his finger under his to catch a tear that escaped. 

"I love you, Harry," she said. "You and Gemma are my world. Don't keep anything from me. You know I'll never stop loving you." 

He smiled in sincere gratitude at his mother. "That makes two of you," he said, bringing my hand up to kiss. 

"Just let Dad have some space right now, okay?" She suggested. 

"Yeah, sure," he said, smiling again, this time making his dimple appear. 

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I'll try to update again soon. Probably this weekend! xoxo