Jottings From Old Scotland

MY first shot at helping a friend ended in failure. His wife wouldn't cooperate at all, taking up the attitude of "Oh, what will the neighbors think if he has to go into a hospital and get put right." It didn't enter her head that hubby coming home every other night for years drunk and staggering all over the place was keeping the neighbors going great guns with all the gossip they needed. She asked the other AA lad and myself how long we had been off the whisky. I said "four weeks"--the other lad said "12 months"--and well she knew him, for he and her husband were like Tam-o-Shanter and Soutar Johnny, they had been "fu" for weeks together. "You both don't feel abnormal in any way do you now that you've gone dry?" I said, "Mrs. C., we don't--have a look at the condition your husband is in--if that's normal then we are the other way round." But it didn't ring any bell with her--the Doctor didn't believe this and that, so we left as we can't ram it down their throats. The pity of it was her husband wanted to go to this special place near Perth 70 miles away and I would have been only too pleased to have taken him through there. However, tomorrow is another day and I've no doubt more opportunities will occur.