Hole in the wall

After three bouts of acute pancreatitis, the last of which almost killed me, I relented to my family's hospital-bed intervention and agreed to attend an inpatient alcohol and drug treatment facility. I didn't think I had a problem. I always associated with people who drank as hard as I did. Aside from my medical issues, I hadn't experienced other serious consequences: I'd graduated from college and graduate school with honors, I'd held jobs and avoided legal issues. I was only 27, so I couldn't have a problem with drinking. I was just unlucky.