You Matter Too

The Accident “We thought we were treating pain. We had no idea we were opening the door to addiction.” -Leah Masters He sat with his head in his hands. Something felt wrong. We always talk things through together but today he had made a decision on his own. His hands dropped into his lap and he looked at me. “I can't do this anymore. Not to you or the kids. I’ll go somewhere so you don't have to see me. I’ll drive until I can’t anymore… then all this will be over.” He stood, pulled the keys from his pocket and walked away. Before I could get past him, he opened the safe and reached for the gun. I threw myself between him and the safe. We wrestled for it. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to push me aside, but I refused to move. Somehow, I managed to keep myself between him and the gun Perhaps he would have fought harder if I hadn't been five months pregnant with our third child. As I held onto him his shoulders slumped. His knees buckled and the strength drained from his body. He let go of the gun. Defeated, he collapsed onto the floor. The click of the safe locking echoed through the room. It was the most reassuring sound I had ever heard. I finally exhaled. He had no fight left in him - not even enough to end his own pain. I wrapped my arms around him. Somehow felt heavier than he had only moments before. We stayed there on the floor for what felt like hours before I helped him to the car and drove him to the doctor. He couldn’t end his life. He didn’t know how to keep living either. So I made a silent promise. I would fight for him. I would find strength for both of us. For our family. We sat in the doctor’s office - not with his usual doctor, but another GP from the clinic. Fresh eyes. Fresh ears. He told the doctor how he had been watching our local chemist, trying to work out how he could break in and get to the medication. He wanted the pain to stop. But it was more than pain now. He was addicted. How did we get here? How had I ended up sitting in a doctor’s office beside my suicidal husband - my best friend, my soul mate? To answer that, I have to go back. A workplace accident had left Tim with bulging discs and hairline fractures in the vertebrae of his spine. It had taken a year of appointments, X-rays and scans to get the full picture of the damage. The doctor offered two options: surgery or pain management. Tim resisted both. He was reluctant to have the surgery because there was no guarantee it would relieve the pain. In fact, there was a chance it could make things worse. He was just as reluctant to begin pain management. Ironically he feared addiction more than surgery.