PO Box 1980

I'm in my twenty-third year of sobriety. In the last two years, however, I have gone through some heavy-duty medical problems. Without AA meetings, I seriously doubt I would keep up the fight. On one recent morning, I was feeling particularly sorry for myself and complained, "God, I'm sick of these legs." When I walked into the 10:00 A.M. Step meeting, there was my friend Iggie, who recently had his remaining leg amputated. Although he was in a wheelchair, Iggie got up and made his way to the coffee pot to give me a hearty greeting. That was the end of my "poor-me" attitude.