My first night of Rehab I checked in at the front desk.
“Driver’s license and insurance card.” said the secretary. I gave them.
“OK” she said, after checking, “your insurance co-pay is $25. How would you like to pay? HSA Debit Card? OK, that’s fine. OK, it went through. Just sign here and go to room 222.”
Away I went to find room 222. Entering, I saw a desk and a couple dozen chairs in a circle. Each chair had a urinalysis package. I was quite familiar with them, having been a traveling Radiation Safety Technician for a dozen years before hiring on with Roquefort University. I worked about 15 different Nuclear Power Plants, plus Department of Energy sites, and a State University Reactor. At each site, except the University, I had to submit a urine sample to be drug tested. If you tested positive for drugs you lost the job. (At the DOE site I also provided a fecal sample. What a pain in the ass that was, no pun intended.) I grabbed a bag and went to find the bathroom, produced a sample, and returned. No one had to tell me.
I got back to my seat and the room slowly filled up with miscreants such as myself. Eventually a young woman came in and sat in what I now realized was the main chair. She had an empty box and invited us to bring our samples, one at a time, starting on her left, to the box. I delivered my sample in turn and returned to my seat. When the box was full she pushed a button on a device she held, which perhaps also served as a “panic button,” and a young man in scrubs came and took away the box of samples.
This woman, Delilah Jones, lead the group. “Hello again, or hello for the first time; we have a few new patients, or outpatients, I should say, tonight. Let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves. Please say your first name only, and what brought you to our group, including which substance you abused.”
So around we went. Some were there for Driving While Intoxicated, or Driving Under the Influence of Whatever, some had failed a random workplace sobriety test, some, like myself, had been arrested for various reasons while under the influence of whatever substance.
“Hi, I’m Jim, I had a DUI. Alcohol.” “I’m Brad. DUI. Marijuana.” “I’m Jack. Disorderly Conduct. Alcohol and Cocaine.” “Hey, I’m Brian. I don’t really need to be here. Broke my leg a while back. Got on oxycodone. They’re trying to say I’m abusing it. I’m not. My fucking leg hurts, ok? It fucking hurts!”
“Thank you, Brian” broke in Delilah. “If you care to appeal your diagnosis you’re more than welcome to, but this is our introduction time, not our defensive denial time. Who’s next, please?”
“Hi, I’m Justin. I got drunk and blacked out, when I came to my son had a cut on his head and I was under arrest. My son’s ok. He got 2 stitches. I feel like an idiot. I’m out on bail, and am not yet ordered to attend this, but my attorney strongly suggested in.”
“Thank you, Justin. Admitting you have a problem is a great first step.” And Delilah gave me a little smile.
Shocked in the Suburbs 