It was one of those tough love conversations. "He didn't tell you his last name or give you a phone number for a reason. I'm trying to save you a lot of headaches later. Only hook up with the people who show up. No show... no go. Right? You've got enough on your plate. He's not going to keep you sober, you gotta keep YOU sober. There's a reason you don't walk out on thin ice. You throw a rope, and it's up to HIM to grab it. He doesn't grab, you don't swim out."
My patient didn't want to hear it. He was having a panic attack, he started crying, then his pride got in the way and he hung up. Well, I told him how it is, and it didn't end well.
There's nothing I can do if he winds up shooting up again. If he's going to blame going out again on this kid who blew him off, then that's his problem. I have to stay here at the hospital churning the fresh meat up into something capable of sobering up. Once you're clean for a week it's up to you.
Another day in the life.