PRIVACY LAWS BLOCK HELP PATH TO TEENS

Too young to help themselves. Too old to be helped by others.

That's the agonizing dilemma faced by parents who want to aid their
troubled teens, but find themselves paralysed by privacy laws.

Last week, I wrote about a local woman trying to help her
drug-addicted 16-year-old daughter. The woman said her efforts had
been thwarted by school officials, health-care providers and police
- -- all in the name of protecting the child's right to confidentiality.

"I'm a parent screaming -- and I mean screaming -- for help, but
nobody can help me because nobody can tell me anything," the woman
said. "And I know I'm not the only parent like this."

It seems she's right about that. Her story prompted nearly a dozen
messages from local parents in similar straits.

"I went through a similar experience with my son," said one caller,
adding the young man was later diagnosed as manic depressive. "I lost
control of him at (age) 16 . . . He overdosed and died in Vancouver
seven years ago."

The other messages were just as saddening: A woman said she was
struggling to overcome the same obstacles with her 17-year-old
daughter; a man complained that legal restrictions blocked him from
helping his 14-year-old son; a woman said she'd faced the same
roadblocks during the last eight years while trying to help her two
teenage sons. And on and on.

Whether the legal snare was embedded in the Personal Health
Information Protection Act or the Child and Family Services Act or
the Mental Health Act, the essence of the complaints was the same.

Because of privacy rules, the doctors, counsellors and cops say they
can't intervene -- or provide helpful information to parents --
unless the kid consents.

But again and again, the parents insisted it's absurd to expect the
troubled child to share information, accept help or heed advice --
they're either too addicted, too sick, too depressed, too confused or
too angry to do so.

"Thank you for highlighting the destructive . . . results that
privacy legislation can have on families with troubled children,"
wrote one reader. "I pray for that woman, but unfortunately, based on
experience, she won't get help from the system.

"Only her daughter can (get help) -- but only if she asks. And too
often troubled kids are unable to help themselves."

This parent suggested too many professionals hide behind the various
privacy laws, which are often vague and open to interpretation.

"My family has been struggling to help our daughter fight anorexia
for the last 3ae years," the reader wrote.

"At one point, a doctor told my husband he had no rights -- only
responsibilities. Instead of working as a team to help the child, the
family is shut out and, tragically, the child is the big loser."

The most poignant letter came from a woman who identified herself as
Christine. Her envelope contained one note to me and another
addressed to the woman I wrote about last week.

"Dear mum," stated the letter. "I read about your worries in The Free
Press. . . . I empathized, because I've felt as hopeless as you, as
frustrated as you, as angry as you must feel sometimes.

"My son has been going through depressions since he was 16, and now,
at 28, I believe he is an alcoholic. I went to the doctor when this
first started and was told . . . she couldn't tell me anything about
his behaviour and condition because he was 16 and (she suggested)
maybe I should take a stress seminar.

"When I said I was concerned he might commit suicide, she said it was
a valid concern."

The woman explained that she attended some Alcoholics Anonymous
meetings to get tips on how to help her son. Instead, she gained some
insight about herself.

"I had become obsessed with my son's problem," she wrote, "and had
forgotten to take care of myself."

In the end, this woman urged the other worried mother to look after
her own needs because "it doesn't mean you love your daughter any less."

That's not the answer these parents are seeking. But it's worth
remembering that in a bid to save their kids, these parents need to
make sure they don't lose themselves.