Seeing Through the Cracks

Chapter 21

It's a winter's day in Ontario, -10 degrees Celsius and overcast skies. I start thinking about the hour-long drive to Guelph that I will have each day, and pray that the weather will co-operate. As I do most weekday mornings, I meet up with my fitness buddy, Cindy, for our five-kilometer power walk. She has been and continues to be a pillar of strength for me during this time. She is someone who is understanding and compassionate, and I have been able to bounce things off her and talk it through. She gives me well-intentioned advice. On this particular morning what she's about to suggest will probably be the biggest lifesaving counsel I could hear. She tells me that getting Jake back on track is not something I should be doing alone, and that I will need much support with this endeavour. She recommends that I leave earlier on my drive today to the university, and take Jake straight to the school's Emergency Crisis Center, explain Jake's situation, and ask for a counselor to be assigned to Jake immediately. That way, he will have someone also at the university essentially in his corner. I instantly feel better hearing this, and agree that I will do just as she suggests.

I return home after our walk, feeling more optimistic; I have a viable plan. I don't suggest or ask Jake to consider this. I tell him what we're going to do, and we quickly get ready to leave much earlier, making the first of many trips to come.

The roads are clear of snow and ice and we arrive at the university in good time, park and make the thirteen-minute walk from Jake's residence to the University Center. It's cold and bitterly windy and we make conversation about how far and how chilly the walk is to campus. Jake says that that hasn't helped. Getting out of bed early and making that miserably cold walk wasn't motivating for him in any way. I, myself, am more concerned about the isolated area his residence is in; it always feels like a dead zone when I visit. Inside the main campus building we look for the student crisis office, which is actually called Student Accessibility Services (SAS). My heart starts to race. I am quite nervous about this whole process. This is a delicate situation and I am not sure how we will be received. I am also desperate to have support, as this issue has become much bigger than me. I feel a little panicked already and my heart is racing in my chest. I can only imagine the dread and fear that Jake is experiencing.

We are greeted by a student at reception. She tells us that she is substituting for the secretary, who is on early lunch break. We are told that we will need to come back because there are no counselors available. I tell her that this situation is an emergency and that we need to speak with someone immediately. She tells me again that we will need to come back later. This setback is not what either of us needs to hear right now, and my panic rises. Jake has classes he needs to get to later, and we have a small window of time to make this happen. The urgency of wanting help rises in my body like a tidal wave. My disappointment quickly sets in and I feel a huge letdown. I feel completely helpless and stranded, similar to what I experienced when we couldn't get a flight out of Huatulco, Mexico. Jake must have also felt this a thousand times over while he spent those two lonely months in his dorm room.

We are about to turn away, defeated, when suddenly a man appears from behind the reception desk. He has overheard our conversation and interjects to ask what it is that we need; his voice and presence carry such kindness, that I am suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. I start to explain Jake's situation and instantly fill up with tears. The man invites us into his office immediately. Our hero has arrived and I now feel intense relief and hopefulness. It is almost dizzying. I need to sit.

The man introduces himself and his position. He tells us that he personally will not be taking on Jake's case, but can initiate it and get him into the system where counselling will be assigned. But first he needs the particulars. Jake begins his story and articulates in great detail his challenges, both past and present.

The counselor is first astounded by the fact that Jake was placed in the "Family Units" for residence, a place of isolation and quiet, where mostly student couples reside and remain to themselves. He explains that there is rarely any social activities initiated there, and it would not be a good placement for Jake. He suggests that we get Jake transferred to a dorm room back on campus, as soon as possible. We agree wholeheartedly. He understands this and I begin to relax.