My brother left rehab yesterday. His insurance ran out. After two-and-one-half weeks. Insurance companies are mind-bogglingly stupid. They’ll pay for him to go to rehab three times. But apparently only two weeks each time. How fucking asinine is that? It’s proven the longer you stay the greater your chances for maintained sobriety, 30 days being the minimum. But they cut him off. I read the policy from cover to cover. I didn’t see anything about a two-week limit for alcohol and chemical dependency rehab. I’m really hankering for a fight and would like the adjuster to explain where in the policy it says two weeks and he’s out.
But my brother has not asked for my help. So I shall not interfere.
Aside from the insurance issue, the news has been encouraging. My brother is hopeful. And although he now goes home each night, for the next two weeks he’ll continue meetings with his original group from 8:00 to 4:00. After that, they’ll continue to meet every Saturday for a year. He has a sponsor. His first ever. The fact that he’s reporting all this to my mother is encouraging. It means he has intention. It means he wants to continue in his recovery. I feel optimistic. But also fearful. But since I can’t control it, I will think happy thoughts.
I daydreamed today about baking him a birthday cake on December 29. His sobriety birthday. I recall German chocolate is his favorite.
Now I’m craving cake. Dammit.
