On the Firing Line

I am continually amazed at the ins and outs of how A.A. works.  It really is miraculous.  We're a stumbling, confused collection of non-professional bozos of all stripes and colors coming together in a stumbling, confused way to do miraculous things.  There are plenty of heartbreaks and failures along the way but after a while they pale in comparison with the successes.  We are trying to haul drowning people into the lifeboat.  We helplessly watch some sink beneath the waves but - man! - the joy of pounding someone on the back, spitting out seawater and jellyfish, and making it to shore with us.  The Book uses words along the lines of this is "something that is not to be missed."  

Seizure Girl got in touch with her A.A. sister and me yesterday - after some gentle prodding - to inform us that she was going to drop off her kids, take a shower, and head to the hospital, and she actually followed through, no small victory.  My young friend - who has two small children and a job - took a chunk of her afternoon to sit in the emergency room with the desperate new woman as they tried to get her into a room while assessing her condition.  It speaks to how dicey the situation was that they admitted her to the hospital.  I don't believe she has health insurance so the fact that the hospital is treating her would seem to suggest that they were pretty worried.

That's where things stand.  I texted my buddy this morning to tell her how totally impressed I was with her effort.  Have you been to an ER recently?  A more frustrating, slow-motion, miserable place is hard to find.  I was telling this tale to SuperK last night and she said: "You saved her life."  I demurred.  It's what we do.  C'mon, I thought, that's a little dramatic.  I do think we're going to need to see how things play out - this could still go sideways on us - but then my wife shared an incident when she was still pondering sobriety and it was that incident we all have where someone does or says exactly the right thing at exactly the right time that finally helps us make the choice to recover.  Her words made me pause and take stock of what was happening.  At the very least I know with great certainty that my helpful A.A. daughter will never, ever forget being part of this.  It will become one of those moments that cement in our minds the certainty that we can never, ever successfully drink again and that this is what our future looks like if we keep drinking.

In the Doctor's Opinion there's this: " . . . let them stand with us a while on the firing line, see the tragedies, the despairing spouses, the little children, let the solving of these problems become part of their daily work, and . . . the most cynical will not wonder that we have accepted and encouraged this movement."  I'm reminded of waiting for clearance to attend a meeting in a prison and watching mothers and little children being searched for weapons and contraband before being allowed to go see their dad.  Not as good a memory as a picnic on a spring day or visiting an amusement park.  Not the kind of memory I'd be proud to pass along.