Tracey Goes to Rehab

Hello, friends. As many of you already know, I am checking myself into rehab to deal with underlying issues that have contributed to my dependence on drugs and alcohol for most of my adult life. Recently I have discovered that my life is unmanageable and unbearable and I have not been able to regain control on my own, so I am reaching out for help.

I am asking for financial help from you, my support network, so that travel and admittance to rehab can become a reality very SOON. After being accepted to a program in West Palm Beach, Florida, Mom and Keith and I loaded up in Mom’s car and drove the 11 hours to admit me. I was turned away at The Retreat program in West Palm Beach due to an acute MRSA infection on my face. (Yes, I asked on the phone if entering rehab with an active infection would be an issue. I was told that they had medical staff available and it wouldn't be an issue.)

After abandoning me at the emergency room to fend for myself, my first rehab would not admit me back until the MRSA had cleared. I am now in the process of healing my infection, remaining sober, and have found another facility called The Haven in San Luis Obispo, California that really seems like the best program for me.

I am asking for financial help at this time which will be deposited directly into my mother's bank account. The first trip depleted us financially, and we now need help with a plane ticket to The Haven in California. I am hoping to leave as soon as Thursday morning to arrive for admittance by the afternoon.

We need to humbly ask for help. Please help if you can. If you can't, I certainly understand. None of you owe me this luxury, but I can promise you that I need it. I can also promise you that your dollars will be well spent, as will my time, until I am well. In fact, these will be the smartest dollars I have spent in years. I am so ready to get my life back. I have heard from many of you that you are ready to have Tracey back. I assure you, I am ready to do the work necessary.

My promise to YOU, if you can help me at all, is that I will work diligently in rehab to address the underlying issues contributing to my addiction and that every cent will contribute to my transport to rehab, my out of pocket deductible cost, and any leftover will pay costs associated with sober living costs in the final phase of rehab that aren't billable to my insurance. I will return to work as soon as is feasible.

I am hoping to spend about 30 days in inpatient care and then transition over to their transitional sober living program for at least 2 more months following my first month in care.

l love you all, whether or not you are able to help financially at this time.

Love, Trace Face

For those of you who like a good story, read on.

The Day I Was Abandoned by My Rehab
or, Tracey Gilbert, Rehab Reject

After a long roadtrip down to West Palm Beach from East Tennessee, I was there, finally making that important step into a rehabilitation facility where trained professionals would assist me in rebuilding myself. Mom and Keith were assured that I was in good hands, said their goodbyes, and began the 11 hour journey home. Mere minutes later I was informed by a nurse that I would need to be cleared by a doctor before they could proceed with my strip search.

I was loaded into a company vehicle, taken to the nearest ER, and abandoned with no instructions or supervision. I entered the ER and received remarkably prompt service seeing a doctor who diagnosed my MRSA and actually cleared me to enter rehab. I was discharged and found myself alone on the streets of West Palm Beach with no money, no ID, no phone, and no real idea if anyone was coming to get me.

Meanwhile, my family was being told by Retreat that I was still in the hospital, and I had a room there with medical staff available. They were being told there was no way I had been left without supervision. Mom was rightly very worried because she couldn't reach me by phone.  The hospital was telling her I wasn't there at the same time Retreat was assuring her there was no other place I could be.

Where I was was wandering around the street picking up cigarette butts to smoke while I waited for a ride. I had been told I couldn't make a long distance call to my mother but that the rehab had been notified that I was discharged. I didn't know whether or not the rehab had called my mother, whether or not they were sending a car to come back for me, or whether or not I was being admitted that day as I had expected.

I was eventually able to borrow a phone from a stranger on a bench out front from the hospital and call Mom to tell her where I was and confirm she was coming to get me. Subsequently, the nice man who loaned me his phone told me he had found his fentanyl and needles (he thought the cops had stolen them from him when they brought him to the ER after he overdosed), so he was wondering if I wanted to party.... ummmm, NO! An hour later my mom and Keith arrived on the scene, and, as Retreat was saying the soonest they would accept me at that point was Wednesday, we headed back to Tennessee.

I was disappointed, but not discouraged. Everything happens for a reason, and I'm looking forward to trying again with a new facility that won't leave me alone and abandoned and being offered fentanyl in the streets.