PO Box 1980

After eighteen years of beating my head against the wall, and twelve years of sobriety, my disease was to strike again. "Cunning, baffling, powerful!"--I attest to that. I didn't believe that alcohol in any form was poison to me, but a bottle of cough syrup set me on eighteen months of misery. Three or four swallows of that, and begorra, I was high! All my aches and pains went away. So, of course, I had to have more--but it was too far to town.