The Last Few Months...

At the end of the last school year in early mid-May one of my students died of an accidental drug overdose.  She was discharged from a drug rehab center a few weeks early to be able to participate in our school’s graduation activities and ceremony.  The last time I saw her was at Disney for Grad Nite, she brought donuts for all the students that attended the event.  She looked good but, I could still see some level of fatigue perhaps sadness in her countenance.  That night was full of activity and I never had a moment to hug her to welcome her back, but I thought I will have graduation to celebrate her and to give that embrace…

After Grad Nite, I was assigned to chaperone a student trip to our school’s Colorado Ranch for two weeks.  On the morning that I was leaving my brother almost died from a drug overdose.  Luckily, my mom went into his room to wake him up when she noticed that he wasn’t getting up for work. We found him still breathing, but we couldn’t wake him up.  I called the ambulance and the paramedics came, pumped his stomach and told us it was an opiate overdose and took him to the hospital still in serious condition… I didn’t know whether to get on the flight with my students or hop on the ambulance with my brother. My parents encouraged me to go on the trip, and I was so angry with my brother because he had been hospitalized twice in this last year and he still couldn’t stay clean. I was tired of playing the hero, of rescuing him and I wanted him to know when he woke up that I was done.  The first week of the trip was extremely hard because they kept him in the hospital because they couldn’t control his blood pressure and then he got a blood infection.  I would call home once a day when I got my two-hour break from my students to check up on him and every day things didn’t get better.

During the first week of the trip while I was trying to hold it together with all the chaos happening at home, we had a student who bullied, hit and made threats about shooting all his classmates. So, a male chaperone had to leave to take this student back home to California.  That was my breaking point, in my mind as soon as the male chaperone was back, I was going to request to be sent home to be with my family.  Yet, that day things improved with my brother and he was given a release date.  So, I pulled myself together and completed the chaperone gig.

Upon my return to work, after the Colorado Trip, I was given the news that my student had died. At that moment everything in me collapsed. We were able to bring my brother home from the hospital, he was given another opportunity to get healthy.  However, for my student’s parents and sibling – they were not able to revive their daughter, to wake her up from a fentanyl lace pill she took to calm her anxiety. The similarities were just too much and I collapsed in grief, in pain over what drugs do to families, to parents, to siblings! I cried for her, for my brother and for me. I went into this dark depression and I just couldn’t see hope.  After learning about my student’s death, I had to get ready to have Senior Day and celebrate with all my graduates. So, I had to compose myself. Then a few days later I had to attend our graduation ceremony and not give a hug to my kid. I couldn’t even acknowledge she was dead because our principal didn’t allow me to do anything in memory of her as the principal thought any remembrance would ruin graduation for the rest of the students. I was in mourning and not allowed to mourn.

This week a new student I just got came to school inebriated. I had to call the ambulance as she got so sick that she was foaming at the mouth and I thought she was going to die. Luckily, when the paramedics made it to the school, they told me that my student was just extremely drunk.  They ended up taking her and hopefully she will get the help she needs…

Some days I feel so burned out. Other days I feel like I can’t get away from drugs poisoning those I love. I spoke at lengths with the priest on the cruise about all of this and I liked something he said when he prayed over me. He thanked God for using my brokenness, my scars to reach the hurt souls I work with and those in my own family I care for. Pain when consumed alone is devastatingly tragic, but when redeemed by God it can be utilize for good.  It can then transform the world.

This week my student who became my pen pal for six months at the juvenile detention center came back to school. I have him as my student again and there’s celebration in that.