Then comes the calm...

April brought welcome relief to the Westward Ho. Our anguished resident at last agreed to go off to a facility for help with his alcoholic meltdown that has kept us on the edge for over a week I never felt such relief as when I talked to one of his good friends who I could see had been working tirelessly to try to save his life. I thought she was behaving in an admirable manner and he certainly needed this kind of friend. I was afraid she would have fled the premises, but she was made of stronger mettle than that.
I have long had all I could handle with Doc and could not take the kind of measures she did. Perhaps in time she will have some ideas about Doc as she said she used to be a counselor Doc flirts with the idea of rehab now and then, so he made me repeat the whole story.
I am sure our friend is still not out of the woods, and might resist treatment as he has been known to do. He and Doc both are of this old fashioned breed of men who think they can handle their lives with no help, but then they just don't do it.
It's very important to trust someone or something to get the monster in control. Doc is certainly not safe. He's just a sipper not a gulper. My dad could hit a crisis in a few hours of drinking by pouring copious amounts of poisonous brew down himself. I had never gotten acquainted with anyone before with the sipping approach to death by alcohol. I still maintain this method may be slow but it will get you in the ground eventually.