Thursday, May 31, 2012

I Shit You Not

Let's call this segment Rehab Reality.

So I work in a Drug and Alcohol Treatment Facility. It's absolute insanity at its finest. From the owner, to my boss, most of my co-workers, and 98% of the clients. Most of the clients are young upper-middle class white kids and most are there because they are addicted to opiates. Prescription Painkillers to be exact. Most of these clients are dual diagnosis meaning they have many deep rooted psychological issues as well and our facility isn't necessarily equipped to handle these clients, yet they pay the bills so...

One fine morning, a maintenance worker was cleaning the bathroom at the facility and came across a foul odor. I work in the PHP section meaning we house the kids at one location and transport them to a building where they do their groups throughout the day so they facility at question is where they do their groups. Anyway, the maintenance worker notices a smell in the client bathroom for a minute can't figure out what it is. The garbage is full, like I'm sure it is most days, so he decides to root through the garbage to see what he can find. Bad decision probably.

He goes through some paper towels and immediately starts to dry heave as he comes across a big log of shit. Human shit. I shit you not. One of these insane kids takes a dump in the client bathroom, covers it up and leaves a big surprise for the maintenance guy. Now I'm not a qualified therapist yet but in my opinion that is totally fucked up. That has to be some deep problems for somebody to go into the bathroom, squat over the garbage can and take a big shit in that garbage can. What must somebody be thinking that does that? Anger, pissed off, control issues, whatever but a complete nut job.

So all the clients are gathered in the meeting room that morning and they get grilled about who took a shit in the garbage can. I got to witness this group and man what a disaster. Most of the clients were laughing like Beavis and Butthead and of course nobody raises a hand and takes claim to the duty in the trashcan.

So this is the talk of the next couple of days and everybody is wondering who really did this. There are like 30 clients and it really could be anybody because it's not like only one person is so fucked up that they stand out. Then another day, a different maintenance guy throwing up in his mouth. In one of the staff bathrooms no less, same smell, same discovery, one giant log of shit. Another group, more denials, then one of the geniuses names the unknown assailant "The Unabomber," for leaving just one log of shit each time.

Disgusted yet? It was disgusting when everyone was dealing with this and I was really sizing these kids up wondering who the fuck is dropping deuces in garbage cans.

A few more days pass with nothing, then...The PHP Supervisor is a real pain-in-the-ass and most of these clients don't like her because she has no empathy, and her direct matter-of-fact style straight from Philly doesn't sit well with many of the spoiled enabled clients. Here we are at the facility and when we hear mother fucker, gross, what the fuck, as she comes running out of the of a private bathroom only few have access too.

Upon investigation, it appears somebody didn't just take a shit in the supervisor's garbage but did some real dirt by dropping an Upper Decker. The supervisor flushed the toilet as shit water filled the bowl and stench fill the air. Fucking nasty. I was cracking up a little because the supervisor can be a bitch so it did happen to the right person but what the fuck. The Unibomber drops number 3.

Again the clients get grilled, again the therapists meet, again no answer as to who is the culprit.

The residence where these clients live in really an apartment building. Typical old school Florida with 10 apartments, 5 upstairs, 5 down, they all open to an outside courtyard and for confidentiality sake there is a 6 foot privacy fence that encircles the property. In the courtyard there are three different covered tables where the clients hang out, smoke cigarettes, play cards, and tell lies. There is always a couple staff members on property when the clients are there including two on property all night long.

The clients have an 11:00pm curfew and after that they can come down and smoke one by one but the hope is to get them to sleep no later than midnight. The overnight employees have some bullshit cleaning jobs they have to do and the switch off but usually one is in the courtyard at all times. Now some clients have difficulty sleeping  especially those coming of any opiates and so some of the new clients are either up a lot of the night  or are up at the crack of dawn hanging in the courtyard. So really there is rarely any time that nobody is ever in the courtyard so to pull something off would take some skills.

One morning just as the sun is coming up and a few clients trickle down one noticed something and starts to freak out. A staff member is out there with them and comes over to the table to see what has the client so upset. The staff member walks to the table, looks down and there it is again, one long solid brown log and the Unibomber has struck once again. Soon after all the clients are in the courtyard and the talk is all about, who the fuck is shitting every place? Nobody has any idea, everybody is under suspension, and the props are going out to the sick fucker whomever it may be.

Personally I think the Unibomber shit in their apartment and planted the log on the table as I'm not sure how they had time to squat over a table, in the middle of the courtyard without anybody taking notice, either as they were shitting or just thereafter.

Of course there is another group about this but nobody 'fesses up. The staff has a meeting and we discuss who it might be, how and when they are doing it, and why they are doing it. Everybody was baffled.

Now when clients discharge, their paperwork and meds are processed by the overnight crew, they are taken to the main facility then either they are picked up, taken to the airport, whatever it is that has been arranged. Now the morning crew in getting everybody ready to leave for the main facility, strips down the beds of those leaving, puts all the bedding and towels into their laundry basket and it goes into the office where the overnight staff washing it and recycles it for the new clients that come in.

Sometimes some of the more serious clients will pack up their baskets and bring them down trying to help out and to show that they have changed and are ready for a wonderful life of sobriety. Maybe 25% of so will bring their baskets to the office. On this day there was only one client leaving so the client said they are finishing up and will bring the basket down right after their shower.

So the day staff is getting everybody ready to get into the vans (druggie buggies) and it's usually a moment of slight chaos and just as they are getting ready to lock up the client who is discharging gives the staff their laundry basket. The staff member slides the laundry basket into the office and away everybody goes.

The afternoon shift brings all the clients back to the apartment after a day of groups so this shift pulls up that day, unloads all the equipment and clients and goes into the office to start the paperwork for this shift. The guy working opens the door and is nearly knocked out by the stench wondering what the fuck is that. He and the other staff member on duty go into the office trying to identify the horrific odor. At about the same time they see the laundry basket sitting there and both figure oh no. They pull some of the top linens out of the basket and sure enough, no one log this time but a massive pile of shit is on a towel in the middle of the laundry basket. Apparently the Unabomber left a going away present and also wanted everybody to know exactly who they were.

The person who discharged that day. A 28 year old WOMAN. A mother of two, a crackhead from a rural part of Florida. She was mostly quiet, didn't socialize all that much, came out to smoke but mostly kept to herself in her room. Let's just say, nobody of all the clients and staff would have every guessed this to be the Unabomber...and a woman no less. Unreal.

So my first edition of Rehab Reality. There are many many more stories most not nearly as gruesome as that one, but real stories of real people who are sick and twisted trying to salvage something with their lives.

Hope everybody is well as June is already upon us.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Momentum

Testing, Testing, Testing 1,2,3, Testing, Testing, 1,2,3.

Just seeing if this thing still works. Yes? Alive and well. Down in Florida workin' for the man. Hope to have another business up and running by the fall. Still driving the ladies crazy and man do I love the variety here in South Florida. South American, Euro, American, Jewish American Princess, all tan and fit from working out, mmmmmmmm.

I was thinking of reviving this place. Maybe some poker exploits from the biggest fish tank in all the world. Some crazy women stories for the likes of my boy Waffles, and what should be really great stories from work.

Now most work stories would probably suck ass but I have the writer's paradise of working in a drug and alcohol treatment center. All sorts of young 20 something, upper middle class, opiate addicts, crackheads, and alcoholics. I'm not sure if most will find it sad, but for those familiar with addiction I'd like to think it would be hysterical insane, which is what it really is.

So let's hope for some motivation, and some good work stories, and some poker wins, and some banging of hot bitches.

Hope you are all well.