Hanmer, where the helpless go and regain sell-respect
Alcohol, its use and misuse, is the major theme of the biennial conference of the New Zealand Medical Association which begins its main session on Friday. In the first of two articles, JOHN BROWN examines some of the issues as they present themselves on the New Zealand scene. The second article will be published tomorrow.
Hundreds of people in pursuit of hope go to Queen Mary Hospital, Hanmer Springs, each year. Alcohol is the bond which throws these lonely and distraught people together.
Their combined will to beat the crippling effects of alcohol abuse forges new links. Eight to ten weeks of treatment strip them bare, exposing the frightening toll of years of deceit and addiction. In their pursuit of a cure
they create a support system which has few equals in this country.
Each of the 850 people treated for alcoholism at Queen Mary Hospital every year make their most important decision before they ever see the hospital from the bridge high above the village. Their first step is made when they acknowledge they can no longer control their drinking.
Clutching the last shreds of self esteem, the
alcoholic begins at the bottom of the ladder, often recovering from the
last cold sweat of indecision. “Should I have come? I don’t need to be here? What will my friends think?” These, and mahy other doubts, jockey for position in the addled brains of newcomers. Shuffling into their temporary home without the crutch of alcohol is a frightening experience for
alcoholics. They must give up the adolescent escape
route of hiding their heads under a blanket of . drink. The hazy recognition of a few barroom faces does little to help. The peace of Hanmer Springs is, however, another matter. Most of those around the newcomer seem happy, contented people — “If it’s worked for them, perhaps it will work for me.” The inevitable cup of tea is thrust forward and introductions given to those others who will share the course of eight weeks treatment. The first two weeks are crucial. The new group is cloistered in a dormitory under the ever watchful eyes of medical and nursing staff. It does not seem to help much being told that the nurse taking a first discussion group is a recovered alcoholic — “Why the hell are they here, they look OK.” Unknowingly, the alcoholic has touched on his hope for the future — the support of others who have stayed sober. Repeated contacts with people who have made the transition ram home the message of Queen Mary Hospital — “It can be done; it has been done; we are here to help you do it.”
Perhaps for the first time the newly-awakened alcoholics become aware that the world does not revovle round their wishes. They begin to accept the give-and-take of personal contact without recourse to “liquid courage.” Under the care of three doctors, 33 nurses, and other counselling staff, more than 100 people at any one time take treat-
ment for alcoholism at tne hospital. For some, the eight-week stay is a glorious excuse for a pleasant break paid for by the State. These few do not survive sober outside the hospital for long and they do not find getting back in again very easy
But for 70 per cent of alcoholics who do make a successful recovery, their stay in Hanmer marks a turning point in their lives. This “re-birth” does not come without hard labour. There are no magical cures for alcoholism. Some specialised drugs help, but the main effort has to come from the alcoholic, with the support and backing of other people. Patients are involved in a frenetic round of activities; boredom and lethargy are as much enemies for the alcoholic as for those who control their drinking.
Group therapy rips into the fabric of an alcoholic’s excuse for drinking. Courses in self-awareness and “real” attitudes to problems help re-build tie self-image which the alcoholic has almost destoryed through his addiction.
Carefully controlled personal therapy is given by staff well acquainted with all the “con” jobs known, to the alcoholic. Ruthless examination of the charted course of alcoholic addiction is placed squarely in front of patients, most of whom recognise with chilling fear how close they have come to the downward path which ends in insanity and death.
Secrets have little place at Queen Mary Hospital, but revelation of personal problems take courage. As much as possible is done to help the alcoholic to accept his or her real place in society. Visits from family and friends who stay for short periods at the Hospital’s hostel help, but there is no real substitute for life in the outside community. Isolation is a mixed blessing for the hospital. Set in many hectares of parkland at the edge of Hanmer Springs village, the hospital is about 120 km from Christchurch. Records of success bear testimony to its work, but strong evidence from New Zealand and overseas, suggests that isolation is not always wise. Many of the problems which cause alcoholism are in the “outside” world and therefore are best dealt with at source. The charisma of Hanmer Springs, however, plays no small part in the success of treatment. Well acquainted with the false mana of the heavy drinker, most patients have heard too of the more positive message that filters through. Many
people have been here and learnt to stay sober. Some have failed, but possibly only because they thought that they could go it alone.
It is at this personal level that the role of Alcoholics Anonymous makes its most important contribution to the work for sober living at Queen Mary Hospital. Without A.A. the treatment programme would not work As a proven tool since 1935, A.A. and its methods are a daily part of the treatment programme. A.A. provides one effective after-care system, but others are needed. The real fear of most patients about to attempt their first steps as sober people is how they will cope. If they have a relapse they need to know that there is a backstop for them — for most that backstop is the people they have met and learned to cope with at Queen Mary Hospital. The alcoholic now has a choice where none existed before treatment. Most now find it possible to turn their backs on years of self-inflicted terror. The treadmill of alcohol abuse has stopped.
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Press, 26 April 1979, Page 21
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1,071Hanmer, where the helpless go and regain sell-respect Press, 26 April 1979, Page 21
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