ADDICTS SUFFER FROM DISEASE

What is it, exactly, that qualifies addiction as a
disease?

That's a good question, one a reader raised in a letter to the editor
last week. The concept of addiction and alcoholism as diseases is
probably one of the most controversial debates in medical and social
circles today.

Let's start with the basic definition of "disease": According to
Webster's Dictionary, it's defined as an "illness" or "sickness."
Is it?

Consider: Almost 30 percent of inpatient hospital stays and 50 percent
of emergency room visits in the United States are associated with the
treatment of medical problems related to alcoholism alone; factor in
drug addiction, and the figures are even higher. Employees with alcohol
and drug problems cost companies almost 300 percent more in terms of
health care coverage every year than their non-addicted co-workers.

Furthermore, a "disease" is defined as "an interruption, cessation,
or disorder of bodily functions, systems or organs." Study after
study has shown that alcoholics have cognitive impairments associated
with the brain damage caused by chronic alcohol poisoning. It's a
no-brainer that other organs -- the pancreas, the liver, the heart --
are also affected. And the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and
Alcoholism lists alcoholism as the third most common cause of death
next to cancer and heart disease among adult Americans.

Terence Gorski presents an excellent argument for the disease model of
addiction in an article presented in 1996 at the 10th Annual Dual
Disorder Conference, in which he notes that not only did the U.S.
Congress formally acknowledge that alcoholism is a disease with the
passage of the Hughes Act in 1970, and that the disease concept is
acknowledged by the World Health Organization, the American Medical
Association and the American Psychiatric Association.

Those are powerful organizations to dispute, but everyone's entitled
to an opinion. And I believe, with all of my heart, that my addiction
is a disease.

Let me clarify a few things: I'm in no way advocating that anyone who
takes a drink or a drug will automatically be afflicted with
alcoholism and/or addiction. It's estimated that 70 percent of
Americans consume alcohol regularly enough to be considered
"drinkers"; of that number, 60 percent drink in moderation and
experience no problems.

Why, then, do the remaining 10 percent end up with numerous health,
financial and social problems? If alcoholism and addiction are
choices, as some people believe, then what rational person would make
the conscious decision to continue drinking and abusing drugs to the
point of dereliction, degradation, institutionalization, incarceration
and, in many cases, death?

Is it because we don't know any better? Hardly. I was raised by good
parents who taught me right from wrong, and at no time during my
upbringing did I decide that "drug addict" was something I needed on
my resume. Is it because we lack a certain moral fiber? I don't think
so -- I was raised in church and attended regularly into my early adulthood.

Or perhaps it's just plain old lack of willpower -- hogwash, I say.
After being through the struggles of living in active addiction,
constantly pursuing drugs no matter the cost, I survived some pretty
horrible things. To have come this far after living the lifestyle I
have -- and I speak for most of my brothers and sisters in recovery as
well -- I'd say we're some of the toughest, most ornery, stubborn
people you're likely to meet. In our darkest days, the only way we
survived sometimes was on sheer willpower alone.

Scientific studies have suggested there is, in fact, evidence of
chemical imbalances in the brains of alcoholics and addicts that set
us apart from the casual drinker or pot smoker. Does the disease
concept mean that I have no choice in getting high? Not at all -- in
fact, recovery emphasizes that it's that very choice that can keep me
clean -- realizing that I never have to get high again, no matter
what, and that if I do, it's completely by choice.

But the disease concept teaches me that once I reintroduce drugs into
my body and my brain, there ceases to be a choice without a monumental
effort to get back on track. Just like a diabetic can't control how
his body processes sugar, I can't control how my body processes drugs.
Recovery teaches us how to live with our disease; the 12-step program
is our medicine. We take it regularly, just as a diabetic takes his
insulin.

But if a diabetic becomes lackadaisical and overindulges, what are the
consequences? Sometimes mild, sometimes dire, they can range from
exhaustion to a diabetic coma. The analogy is appropriate for recovery
as well -- if we neglect our "medicine" and fool ourselves into
thinking we can use successfully, then we unleash that disease.

Recovery teaches me that I'm not responsible for my disease -- and by
that, I mean having the disease. I'm still very much responsible for
the destruction I caused, the people I harmed, the bad things I did
while actively using drugs. In fact, the 12 steps of recovery take us
through a process of addressing our character defects and making
amends to people we have harmed in the past. It most definitely does
not advocate that we're not responsible for our actions.

What we are responsible for is our recovery -- acknowledging that
addiction is a sensitive subject, that others may look down on us and
that society might not always understand or support us. I can't worry
about that. All that concerns me is getting better -- helping myself,
trying to help someone else, doing the next right thing and enjoying
life without the use of drugs.

I give thanks daily that my disease sleeps today. And I pray to always
remain vigilant, to take my "medicine," so that it doesn't awaken
and turn my life into the living hell I've worked so hard to escape.

Steve Wildsmith is a recovering drug addict and the Weekend editor for
The Daily Times. His entertainment column and stories appear each
Friday in the Weekend section.