Insert Foot.... Have No Shame... It Is Italian Leather After All....

It's always comical to me how people are apprehensive to inquire about ones rehab vacation. I use the word vacation because I think it was the first time I had really relaxed since I began my job 20 years ago. Well, relaxed with out zero sunscreen tanning oil and many cases of beer. As a novice to rehab, I had packed incorrectly. It took me a few days to get the necessities down. Thank rehab Jesus for Dave. For the first three days he was running things over I needed. Being a big homo, my necessities were a tad more extensive than the hetero rehab patient. Packing for rehab will be addressed in a future blog posting. Still, this was a wonderful, educational, 16 day vacation I would highly recommend.

Staying on topic, like many illnesses, people pussy foot around directly coming out and asking questions. This past Thanksgiving weekend, my little brother got married. After the wedding, I was hanging out with my new best found friend, his mother in law – love that lady! We're throwing a few back at the hotel bar after the reception chatting as if we had known each other since birth. I made a mention of my vacation to rehab the previous winter. In all serious and caring, she asks, “how was that”. Taking a drink of my beer I replied, “the food was do die for”. She burst our laughing repeating “the food was to die for?” Those who saw me after rehab, clearly noticed the 20 pounds in 16 days to the higher end of the scale. Shit, the place had a chef from the south who made down home cooking for every meal. There were three meals square, three scheduled snacks, then a movie and pizza before lights out. And it was all fucking good. Most try to sneak shit into rehab. Being the fucked up person I am, I sneaked food out. One night, I managed to scam a full rib dinner. I called Dave and told him to meet me in the lobby so I could run the dinner out to him. That's how good the shit was.

Drop the etiquette if you want to know, just blurt it out. People in recovery love to hear themselves talk - trust me, go to a meeting. Depending on the person, you may lose a few hours of your life to the conversation you'll never gain back. The key is to act as if you know the lingo. Asking “how was rehab” is okay, but you might get an idiot like myself that rambles on about the food. Most people are really wanting to know what the fuck you were abusing so badly that your ass ended up in a rehab. In many cases, it should be pretty damn obvious. The guy who is slurring his words no matter what time of day you see him and smells like a distillery, you can pretty much guess he went in for alcohol treatment. Then there are those who you get a little shocked because they were secretly addicted to prescription medications. Even as an addict I have difficulty picking those fuckers out. Heroin addicts are easy. They are the ones with no veins left in their arms who are trying to lift your fine china and flat screen out of your house.

If you want to be “hip” within recovery culture, the correct phrase for inquiring as to what ones addiction is, “what was your drug of choice”. In any rehab facility or recovery group, people will say, “my drug of choice was” followed by the drug name or mulitple drugs. This makes sense because there is a never ending soup and salad bar of drugs out there. Dressing on the side please. Remember, alcohol is considered a drug. Again, be prepared when asking one what their drug of choice was. You may get more than you bargained for.

One guy, I will call Kenny because he spent two weeks in rehab with his jacket hood up and you only saw his eyes. My first day in group with him it comes this turn and he begins listing his drugs of choice. Holy shit, this list wasn't ending. The fucking thing was longer than a grocery list for both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners combined. There were drug names coming out of his mouth I had never even heard of. With all the drama in rehab, it is possible people will do that for attention or to proclaim themselves king of drug abuse. Not this guy, you could tell by his motor skills he did all those drugs and was most likely dropped on his head as a baby. By the time it came around to me, I felt like the guy in the gym locker room with the small penis – I only had two drugs of choice. I'll never be homecoming queen.

So there you have your etiquette for your next social function where someone in recovery is in attendance. Remember, the phrase is “what was your drug of choice”. Don't be shy or hesitant! Shit, if you are both single you might even get a date out of it.