02 / The Invisibility Cloak
The Man in the Closet
I once walked in on two clients in a compromising situation. The man bolted for the closet and hid, apparently operating under the theory that if he couldn't see me, I couldn't see him.
The Lighter Side of Last Call Interventions
You Can't Make This Stuff Up.
Because sometimes, if you don't laugh, you'll cry.
Addiction is serious. Some of the things surrounding it are seriously ridiculous.
I've lived with addiction, loved people affected by it, and worked inside residential treatment. I've seen extraordinary care and extraordinary chaos—occasionally on the same shift. Some moments are heartbreaking. Others are so absurd that, even years later, I have to laugh.
Welcome to a slightly less buttoned-up side of Jamie Lake.
01 / The Rooftop Incident
“Jamie, They're on the Roof.”
I was enjoying my day off when a colleague called with an update from the facility.
“Jamie, they're on the roof.”
“Well, get them down.”
“Well, get them down.”
They were clients. They were sunbathing. And I was off the clock.
Meanwhile, back at rehab...
Things they don't put in the brochure.
03 / Outdoor Recreation
The Great Rehab Wilderness Expedition
Some shifts involved looking for clients in the surrounding woods. When I took a job in residential treatment, I did not realize that occasional search-and-rescue duties might come with it.
04 / Dietary Flexibility
The Vegan and the Fried Chicken
One self-proclaimed vegan was enthusiastically eating fried chicken. I have no idea what to say about that, except that it appeared to be a very good day for fried chicken.
The plot thickens
Not every surprise is a funny one.
I've intercepted attempted drug deliveries and discovered contraband in places most people would never think to look. I've worked in facilities that brought in drug-detection dogs regularly. And I've seen moments when the people responsible for maintaining order weren't exactly helping.
It's tempting to turn every incident into a joke. But those experiences also taught me to pay attention to staffing, supervision, medical capability, safety procedures, and whether a facility can actually provide the care someone needs.
A word from the serious department
The fanciest brochure in the world doesn't tell you what happens after admission.
I've worked alongside caring, dedicated professionals who do remarkable things. I've also learned firsthand that treatment centers differ enormously in their resources, practices, and ability to meet individual needs. An attractive building—or a persuasive sales pitch—is not a substitute for appropriate care.
And that brings me to the most unbelievable treatment story I know. This one happened to me.
05 / The Grand Finale · My Own Rehab Story
My Sober Escort Brought the Vodka.
I wish I could tell you that was a metaphor. It wasn't.
During my own struggle with alcohol, a sober escort flew to pick me up and accompany me to treatment in Tampa. That was the job: get me there safely and help me make it into treatment.
Seven days later, that same escort helped me leave rehab. There was a bottle of vodka involved. And cranberry juice mixer, because apparently even disastrous decisions require a beverage pairing.
As if that weren't enough, he also proposed marriage and flew me to his hometown.
At some point, even I have to stop and ask how this became a real chapter of my life.
I'm able to laugh at the absurdity today. But I don't mistake it for good care. I was a person who needed help, and the person entrusted with that responsibility did something profoundly contrary to it.
Laugh. Then take the next step.Humor helps us survive it.
Humor helps us survive it.
Good treatment helps us change it.
I've seen addiction treatment from both sides—as the person who needed help and as someone working in residential care. That experience is why I take treatment placement so seriously.
Getting someone to agree to treatment matters. Finding a facility equipped to help them stay and engage in care matters just as much.
And if you're living through the kind of chaos that makes you wonder whether anyone would believe your stories, trust me: I probably would.
Talk with JamieThese are Jamie's recollections, told with humor and without identifying the people or facilities involved. The illustrations depict fictional characters and scenes, not actual clients or staff. Addiction is a serious health condition; no person seeking help is the punchline.