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Dave Watkins treatment agency community support worker
November issue of Drink & Drug News, edited by Sarah Davies, WIRED
Tuesday 9.00. I walk in. As usual I hear the shrieks of laughter from clients winding up staff members, waves and smiles, the timidity of a newcomer: eyes wide, panic concealed by the drinking of an offered coffee, but hanging in there, proof of the power of our open door. Then there’s Sian: sheepishly trying to get my attention, unsure of my reaction to see her back again, numerous detoxes and rehab attempts later. I mockingly shake my finger at her, sighing inside as I wonder what there is left to try with her. I know this much though – never give up, always go the extra mile, or the extra hundred miles as it sometimes turns out! People do get better. We have a quick chat and she tells me her woes of the last few weeks. How she’s only been using a little bit, jus to get her through this difficult time… she’s really ok and going to give treatment a real go this time… she means it. Let’s wait and see I think, almost chuckling at this latest tale of excuses (she can be inventive I’ll give her that!). But it’s not funny, people die and we have to remember that. It’s so important to be understanding, the illness is so devious and complicated she really believes she can’t live without that hit – or drink, tab, rock, whatever, it’s got her in it’s grip.
10.00. I moan to the others as I see my in tray bulging. Funny really. When it’s empty I worry what I’ve done wrong! Am I doing my job well enough? Grab a quick caffeine fix and up to the office. Phone calls: detox for John, rehab for Mary, Housing Options for Gareth. First port of call when I meet a client… make sure they’re warm, fed and have a place to go. Clients are usually very chaotic so we need to put some structure into their lives and make sure they receive the benefits they are entitled to before we can get them into treatment. It’s like a game of chess and the longer you do it the better you get. Next is form filling, the bane of my existence: DSS, DLA. Another phone call: the gas board. Poor Julie, £2K gas bill landed on her doormat. Enough to give anyone a panic, especially as she was on a meter! All sorted.
11.30. A call from my mate Larry in the cells, David was picked up again last night. Drunk and disorderly again. Out the door. In the car. Down to the cells. He’s sorry, not sure what happened, won’t happen again. Talk to Larry, another court appearance for both of us, but not today – I can take him home. The importance of networking. We’re lucky here, we all seem to sing off the same hymn sheet – agency workers, social services, probation, courts, hospitals, mental hospitals, doctors, DSS, wet houses, dry houses, local health board. If your approach is right, people generally want to help not hinder you and it’s so important to be able to pick up the phone and know that you’ve got back-up.
13.00. Quickly drop into the centre before starting house calls. Joanne’s there, she’s been kicked out of her home and three months in recovery is looking vulnerable. I offer to take her on my house calls and then to sort out some accommodation for the night. She obliges. It’s good to take her mind off it. That’s a lot of the job, dealing with client’s crises. How can we expect people to concentrate on their recovery when they’re on the streets or burdened with worry?
13.30. We visit Mike, James and Sylvia to take them to the allotments. I love the DOMINO projects, the allotments, cookery, guitar lessons. Clients in all stages of recovery can meet, talk and have a laugh – usually at my expense! This is such a huge part of motivating them to enter treatment, particularly when they are in the stage of ‘I know I’m looking for something but what am I looking for?’ They meet others in similar positions to themselves, make friends and encourage each other – recovery is infectious and a huge part of that is belonging. That’s also one of the most important parts of my job, just being here to talk to. I mingle until I reach Amy. A regular. ‘Not right’ lately. I’m worried. She doesn’t want to talk. There’s no point in pushing her but I tell her to keep reminding herself why she started coming to WGCADA in the first place –she asked for help for a reason. It is often that reason that keeps them coming back and going to treatment. Sometimes this is all we can do, frustrating as it is, but I have the comfort in the little seed – you plant a seed now and it may germinate straight away or it may take months or even years. But it can and will germinate. We bindle in the care and I drop them home, spirits high.
16.00. Phone calls looking for a place for Joanne, best I can do is a B&B for the night so I settle her in.
17.00 Rush to Cefn Coed, good to see Jenny more coherent after her psychosis. Detox going well, glad to see me, ready for treatment soon.
18.30 Back to the office, paperwork time. Another caffeine fix and to the office. Exhaustion! I start thinking about the day. Reliably chaotic day, another to follow no doubt! What keeps me here? Madness! It’s a privilege really, people enter your life and talk to you, you make brilliant friends both with staff and clients, and it’s wonderful being part of a good package… I’m only a small cog, but one of many small cogs that turn the big machine, and it does work.
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