I took Edwina to the pain clinic at Cooper Green today. She’s been out of pain medicine for close to three weeks and hasn’t been able to get a doctor to refill her prescription. Given the financial woes at the hospital, primary doctors and entire clinics come and go–and with them, the chain of command needed to care for patients trying to feel their way through a crumbling system.
As we sat in the waiting room, Edwina told me that her son had just turned himself in and was now staying at the county jail. Steve violated the rules of his parole and has been “on the run” for more than six months.
This morning, Steve told Edwina that he was tired of feeling like his whole life was on hold. He’d decided last night that he wasn’t going to hide anymore. Since he turned himself in, Steve and Edwina are hoping that the court will go easy on him.
Edwina admitted that her son had been sinking deeper and deeper into a rut–no job, hanging out with a bad crowd, and getting hooked on “powder,” Edwina’s term for cocaine.
“I don’t think it really hit me yet, Miss Ryan,” Edwina admitted. “It will later tonight when I know my son ain’t gonna be coming home.”