CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
2004- Rehab
My brother flew down to Boca with me, got me to the rehab and then flew back to New York. It felt good to have him by my side, but after that I was on my own.
My mother had not lied at all, the amenities were top tier- a state of the art gym, a tennis court, a swimming pool and spa services with a full schedule of yoga, Pilates, and mindful breathing.
If my parents shady-ass were going to blow my secret college fund on forcing me into an expensive rehab, at least they picked well.
I spent the first 10 days in detox- nothing worth mentioning happened there.
And once I was fully stabilized and approved for release, I moved over to the rehab unit, where I was given a private room with a comfy bed and an en suite bathroom. Thank god for that, because I was not equipped, mentally or emotionally, to deal with a roommate.
Rehab is rehab and there’s not much I can say that would be very different than what you’ve probably already heard or read, or seen on television. But I will say that access to intensive therapy was a huge help. This place was as focused on making sure each patient got the help they needed as its glossy brochure promised it would. And I desperately needed that type of hyper-focused attention.
On the luxury side of things, the food was really good- I gained 15 pounds during my stay. And the Hatha yoga classes were pretty bomb.
