Saliva
A friend of mine has been using crystal meth.
Despite a painful, heartfelt intervention, several prolonged conversations from many different people, two over-dose trips to the ER, two weeks in the psych ward and a few days at a drug recovery clinic, my friend has insisted that “he’s not addicted.”
He could quit at any time.
It’s been heart-breaking that nothing is getting through.
Visiting him in the hospital tonight, he said, “You know what? I’m addicted. I finally get it.”
When asked how he came to this realization he answered, “I thought about doing crystal meth and I started to drool. I started to rub my arm’s vein in anticipation. That’s when it hit me - only someone addicted would actually drool at the idea of doing the drugs.”
I think my friend now FINALLY has a chance of kicking this thing.
So tonight, I’m grateful for that basic Pavlovian reaction. His body communicated what a dozen of us could not using words and all the forms of “I love you” that we knew.
Thank you, drool.