I am a chronic binge-drink alcoholic. This past week saw me experience second-stage alcohol withdrawal. I had found myself in the position on Saturday of having been drinking heavily and daily for at least a month, and I was broke until Monday and stranded in a place I could not find any more booze. The first symptoms began about eight hours(for me) after my last drink: I started getting tremors, headaches, nausea and vomiting and pains in my chest and head. I had no appetite, and couldn't keep anything down. This is when I went down to the ER to get some help. I was there about five hours enduring lectures, hostility and open disgust from the staff and doctor. They put me on a nutrient-bag and gave me some Tylenol, so I asked about a detox program, and the doctor said in this particular county, there is no detox available for people without private insurance. I had Medicaid, so I was screwed. I inquired of the doctor, Would he give me a few lorazepam(a tranquilizer used in detox)to stop the symptoms until I was able to get my own prescription of lorazepam filled on Monday? No, he couldn't because I had been drinking with the lorazepam before, and it wouldn't be responsible to do that. I looked at him. I said, what do you suggest I do. Go home and keep drinking until you can get your prescription filled. I told him, I have no alcohol or money left. He shrugged and said , We're ready to discharge you from our care. He put me in a cab and sent me home.

The next 30 or so hours followed a predictable course: my symptoms got steadily worse. I couldn't sleep, because whenever I laid down to sleep I began hearing voices and having all these mad, unconnected thoughts that were not dreams but not reality rushing through my brain. I was filled with anxiety, sweating constantly. My body began having little convulsions: twitches, jerks. I would shiver constantly and break into waves of glooseflesh. It wasn't until the early morning hours of Monday that I knew I was going to die. I was having crushing pains in my chest and head. My blood pressure went to 220/140, heart rate was like 130, and I could not stop sweating. I thought I would have a stroke or a heart attack any second. Finally 7am Monday morning came, and my friend Gary was able to drive me the fifteen miles to the drug store to get my lorazepam. I held it to together to give the lady at the window the co-pay and get the bottle. I went back to Gary's car, stuffed 3mg of lorazepam in my mouth and swallowed and waited. 20 minutes later I started to feel a little better and Gary drove me home. I went to bed for six hours, woke up, took another lorazepam and slept for another 14 hours. When I woke up again, I felt wobbly but normal. So there's my little Christmas story of second-stage alcohol withdrawal. I didn't have a seizure. Or a stroke. Or a heart attack. But I could have. Any moral? Besides never drinking at all, it's this: you better have private insurance if you need to detox in northeastern Wisconsin or places like it. Otherwise, you are in deep trouble.