Thank God. I did a little research about yesterday's rehab scare. There's good news and bad news.

Bad News: the friend is indeed being sent away for treatment.
Good News: it's not drug-related.
Bad News: he's a recovering alcoholic.
Good News: I could have told you that--I already knew he was a card-carrying member of AA.
Bad News: he's been a drinker since he was a kid. Hell, he still is a kid.
Good News: he can quit if he really wants.
Bad News: he's totally relapsed and has been drinking very heavily for the last three months.
Good News: he desperately wants to recover this time.
Bad News: he's a self-destructive drunk, and the incident that prompted the rehab involved his fist, a window, and forty stitches in his right arm.
Good News: he's really trying this time.

I feel better knowing that drugs aren't involved, but I still hurt for the boy. He's sixteen years old. He's sixteen years old and he's a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. He's sixteen years old and he's spending the next eight months in rehab. He's just a kid.

God, sometimes I forget how easy I have it.