Testimonials: Lance Michael
How do you start an article about the loss of such a glorious gift as your own child? His name is Lance Michael Chapman. He arrived on October 5th, 1972, to Del and Chris Chapman.
I won't bore you with how sweet and adorable he was, because we know all babies are. But, I will tell you we wanted this child with everything in us. You see, as a couple, we had been married six years and had miscarried a number of babies in the first trimester. And then, in our seventh year of marriage, we adopted a precious little girl. We named her Heather. And so you can see how blessed we felt when we found out we were pregnant a year later. Then, two years after Lance's birth, we gave birth to the youngest member of the family, Patrick Jude (P.J.).
Well, our family was now complete and we had a wonderful life. The children were involved in Little League, Ice Hockey, Square Dance, and we also ran a 4-H Club for city kids. Our lives as parents were lived with great pride and love for the three children.
When Lance went into preschool we noticed he had a problem with recognizing small words. As he progressed in school it was hard for him, and he was soon diagnosed with dyslexia and academics proved to be a real challenge for him.
Please listen carefully to how fast your life can change.
In Lance's first year of high school we had him in a private religious school. That morning, when I dropped him off, his friends were waiting for him. He jumped out of the car and joined them, walking towards the door. When he remembered he hadn't kissed me goodbye, he turned around and yelled, "Mom..." and came running to the window, gave me a kiss, and said "I love you!" I told him I loved him,, and I would be back after school to get him. That day in his history class, they were doing round reading. When it came time for LAnce to read, he couldn't. At least not the way the other young students could. I was later told, by a student teacher, that the instructor made a couple of comments about his ability, which gave the class permission to chide him. This was a crushing moment for Lance. He closed his book and walked out of the room. Right behind him walked a drug dealer. What was a drug dealer doing in this private school, you might ask? Before I got to the school to pick Lance up, this drug dealer had convinced Lance that he knew how to make him a king! He took him off campus and shot him up with the drug known as "crystal-meth". From that moment on our precious son was a full blown addict. When I picked him up at school that night, he was not the child that I dropped off. He was critical of me, and acted like I was his worst enemy.
As his parents, we had no idea what was wrong with our son. We were worn out trying to figure it out, and we finally went to a counselor. The counselor made it very clear to me that as a mother, I was over-reacting, and that Lance's behavious was normal and it was just mother nature's way of cutting the umbilical cord. All young men go through it. Since Lance was our first born son, we didn't have anything to compare this experience with, so we believed the counselor.
Well, it took about three years until we knew what the problem was. Remember, we had no idea what these drugs were. We knew what marijuana was, but had never tried it and had no idea about the hard drugs!
One day I received a call from a friend and she asked me if I knew what Lance's "drug-of-choice" was. I thought she meant aspirin! She said, "No." I asked her, "What do you mean?" She told me it was crystal-meth. I asked, "What's that?" She wasn't sure and suggested I call Narcotice for help, so I did. Wow! What a blow! I also need to tell you that we had just found out that our youngest son, P.J., was diagnosed with Hodgkins Disease (cancer), and we were in an active battle to save his life! Now, we were also entering a new battle against an enemy we knew nothing about, and we could find no books on how you fight it.
The next few years were unbelievable! I made friends with a narcotics agent and he tried to help me, but I just couldn't seem to do anything right! Lance had moved out of the house and was deep into the drug culture. We also kept in touch by phone, or when he waas clean he would come over. He always made sure he came to family functions and never lost touch for any length of time. We loved him, and we knew he loved us! I never knew exactly where he lived. He kept that a secret. But the narcotics agent was very good at keeping up with the crowd Lance was with. I truly believe that this agent had never seen a mother try so hard, and it became an obsession with him to help me. At one point, the agent let me know right where Lance was. I was so desperate to gem him back so we could clean him up that my mind went into over-drive!
At one of my visits to the lady who did my nails, she showed me a cute little pearl-handled gun she had for sale. Twenty-five dollars! What a deal! I paid for the gun, and took it with me. I drove around for hours trying to figure out how I could get my son out. I finally called his agent and told him, "I am in the parking lot and I have a gun, and I'm going to get my son!" Do I need to tell you the terror-stricken tone in the agent's voice!?! He tried everything in his power to talk me out of it. I told him, "I'm in the parking lot, I'm going in." So, gun in hand, I walked up to the door.
Now, keep in mind I have never been a drug dealer, never been an addict; but I think if I had been, I would have locked my front door. When I turned the handle and pushed, it opened. Sitting right in front of me, on the couch, was the dealer from the private school. I bet you know what I was thinking. Most good parents would think the same thing. I pointed the gun at him and told him, "I want my son!" He said, "Wow! Chill out little mama!"
I was insulted and incensed! I don't think I took his comment in the spirit he intended it. I walked right over and put the gun on his forehead, slowly moved it down the bridge of his nose and pressed it to his teeth. I told him, "Shut up! Or I'll give you a vent you'll never recover from. Give me my son!" He yelled for Lance as best he could with a gun between his lips, and Lance came out of the bathroom. The look on Lance's face was priceless! I told him I wanted him to come with me and the dealer agreed. When we walked out on the front deck and looked up, there were seven squad cars in the parking lot, at which Lance said, (and I'm not making this up a little just for you) "Lord, Mom, did you bring enough help?" I told him, "I had nothing to do with this, I guess a lot of people still care."
We got Lance hom and cleaned up. We got him a job at a wood plant. Due to his dyslexia, his ability to fill out the application was lacking and he needed help.
His depth perception wasn't good. And, well, he had a slight accident with a fork-lift. One or two boards came off the fork lift because he cut the corner too close. The forman came out of the office yelling profanities at him and telling everyone how stupid Lance was and that he couldn't even fill out the application for work. Well, for Lance this was the high school class all over again, and he walked off the job. A couple of men he worked with brought him home. When he came in, he informed me he was sick of my world and my God and he was out of here. And he was gone.
We went through another year or so of living hell! For the sake of this article, I will skip forward to the next chapter.
It was March 18th, 1994, Heather's birthday. Lance called me to see what we were doing. I told him we were having a birthday party, and asked if he could come. I agreed to pick him up at a designated corner so he could join us. When I picked him up, he looked and sounded so sick! I asked him if he would allow me to take him to see Dr. David. He agreed. Dr. David sent us right over to the hospital, where a cardiologist examined him and informed us that our precious son, whom we loved so much, needed a new heart. The drug, crystal-meth, had blown his heart up to three times the size it should be. The condition is called Cardio-Myopathy. The next step was to get him to the University of Utah in Salt Lake City. That's about six hours from Boise. That's where the transplant team was.
If you are a young person reading this, I want you to really listen to the rest of this story. Lance has a lot to say.
He was in the hospital and I was at a local motel. At 3:00 AM, he called me and asked me to come to the hospital. This was about nine months into his treatment. I got up, got dressed, and went to the University Hospital. I crawled up on the bed and he asked me to take his name off the transplant list. I told him I couldn't do that. He said, "Mom, you don't know what an addiction is. You don't pick up a new heart at 7-11, and I can't do to someone else's heart what I've done to mine." I couldn't remove his name, so he removed it. I took Lance home, not knowing what was next. Lance was right, I didn't understand addiction.
He was home about a week, and he used again. In the face of death, the addiction was stronger than his will to live. Or, maybe, he just gave up before I did. I do think he was clean the last month of his life. He was living at home where we could take care of him, and one day while I was out shopping, my car phone rang and it was Lance. He was calling from the doctor's office, and he asked me to come right away. I did. When I got off the elevator, they were wheeling him out of the office over to the hospital. My beautiful boy, who just a short time ago was 6 feet 2 inches tall, weighed 175 pounds, and was beautiful; looked like a small frail child, wrapped in a white sheet-blanket, with a look of real terror on his face. As a mother, I felt so helpless.
We got him into the hospital, where they tried so hard to save him. He had been there five days. On the fifth morning, Lance called me again at 3:00 AM, and asked me to come and get him. Now, I am just a Mommy; not a nurse, I'm not a doctor, and I tried my best to talk him out of it. But, he said he would walk home if he had to. He told me he didn't want to die in this hospital by himself.
I hung up and went right up to the hospital. I ran to the third floor, and he was in a wheelchair waiting for me. They took him down to my car and as they put him in they said their good-bye's inn a final way. I wanted to shut them up. What were they thinking saying all these scary things to my son!?!
I quickly shut the door and got in. As we drove off, we were stopped at a red light that lets you out of the parking lot into traffic when all of a sudden Lance took his left hand and put it on my knee. He said, "My Mommy! My hero! I love you Mom! And I'm going to miss you! I'm scared." I told him everything was going to be OK. I got him home and tucked him into bed. I went out to the kitchen. I was so scared and soo emotionally confused.
After about ten minutes, Lance stumbled out to the kitchen and leaned on the counter. I ran after a chair and put him in it. As he put his arms around me, I held him tight, kissing his hand. We held on to each other. We told each other how much we loved one another. He told me how scared he was and how sorry he was for what he had done. I told him what a great kid he'd been and how much we all loved him. Lance's father, Del, got up and helped me put Lance back to bed.
That afternoon, my brother came over and he and Lance went out on the porch and had a talk about God. You remember, we raised him to know these things, but the drugs took control of his spiritual life as well as his physical life. That night, I laid in bed with him and we tried to remember all the fun times that we had had together.
The next day my brother and his wife were in Lance's room when he told them, "Mama was right." My brother said, "What do you mean, 'Mama was right'?" Lance said, "I mean Mama was right about everything. I am going to miss her. I've never been far away from her. I'm scared."
I spent all my free time in prayer trying to cope with what was happening. The rest of the day was a steady stream of people coming to see if what they had heard was true. Was Lance dying? I felt like they would never stop, but I was grateful for all the love and prayers that were being lifted for us.
The next day I crawled in bed with Lance, and he tried so hard to tell me all the things he thought he had done wrong. In his way, he was trying to make it better and I think that he was accepting the fact that he was leaving. He looked up at me and said, "Mama, you have to tell the children and their parents what killed me. I can't go with you, but I know you can do it." And then he died in my arms at the age of 22. I had to give this beautiful gift back to the Giver.
Why do I tell you this story? If you are a parent, it is to let you know that it's OK to be the parent. Remember when Lance said, "Mama was right about everything"? I think Lance meant I was right all the times I tried to save him. All the times I came down hard on him about his lifestyle and about his circle of friends. If he was here today, he would tell you, "If you see your child's behavior changing, jump in with everything you've got! SAVE YOUR CHILD!!
If you are a young person, remember what Lance said, "Mama, you don't know what addiction is!" Lance was saying that sometimes you can use and walk away. We all know people who have. But sometimes, your choices will kill you! Please remember, his thoughts were for you; "Mama tell the children and their parents what killed me!"
Remember, when we were leaving the hospital and Lance put his hand on my knee and said, "My Mommy! My hero!" Do you think I felt like a hero when he died in my arms? Do you think that he felt like the king the dealer convinced him he would be?
It took years after Lance's death to crawl out of the grave, and try to do what he asked me to do. Since that time, over 4.5 million people have heard Lance's story and I travel around the world holding the wounded and dying from these drugs. If you are reading this, please take the time to know what's going on in your lives. Be the hero to each other that I wasn't able to be to my precious son Lance.
Your Friend,
Chris Chapman (Lance's Mother)
