Director’s Notes: Roaming treatment vans.

The amount of money that can be earned in residential treatment centers has led to some interesting tactics.

One tactic is to send vans to the Reservation to solicit people for treatment. I first heard about this tactic from a young man who was very happy about the vans. He was picked up by one of these vans. He described it as a kind of divine mercy.

“The van doors opened up like the arms of God to welcome me in; and when the doors of the van closed, it was like God’s arms surrounding me.”

The van ride to Phoenix was coordinated by a friend. The van seemed to materialize it was needed the most.

It is wonderful to see the young man continue to feel grateful not just for the van, but for the wonderful accommodations in his rehab, and for even smaller blessings like food, clean clothes, protection from the cold (it snows where this young man came from), and new shoes.

But I recently heard of another experience. This time a young man told me that a van came by and solicited him for treatment. The van was circling an area where alcohol is frequently purchased and brought illegally back into the Rez. (Those who carry alcohol back to the Rez are referred to as “camels” because they carry liquid in humps on their back. These humps are called “backpacks” in other contexts).

This young man, let’s call him Henry, said he politely declined the first offer. But the next day, feeling buzzed and open to suggestions, he agreed. No paperwork. No calls to friends or family. Just hop in, young man. We’re going to see the Wizard—the Wonderful Wizard of Rehab.

The fact that a treatment center would circle an area where addicts are likely to hang out is not so surprising. This happens in Phoenix all the time. In fact, it is a kindness to reach out to addicts where they live and party. It eliminates barriers and assures that people enter treatment sooner rather than later.

But what was surprising here is that, according to Henry, the van took him to an inpatient treatment home and left him to detox on his own--without any medical supervision.

In fact, they did not complete any intake paperwork until Bill finished 4 days of intense alcohol detox.

This strikes me as dangerous and shifty.

Strokes, seizures, hallucinations, and even death are possible when a person is detoxing from Alcohol.

What would the residential treatment center have done if Bill hadn’t survived the detox? Toss him somewhere? And why not take him to detox? Not to lose their cash cow? Tribal insurance reportedly pays a lucrative monthly amount for housing an addict in a residential setting.

He left later left this residential treatment home and began drinking again. He became one of the 7,000+ homeless individuals in the Phoenix area. After a time, he quit drinking again, this time becoming delirious. Without alcohol in his system, he began to imagine ghosts were pursuing him. He was picked by the police because he was walking in the street attempting to escape the ghosts.

He was in a very precarious position.

The police took him to the ER. After receiving medical assistance, and safe detox, he was released to the residential treatment center where I met him.

In Henry’s story, these roving vans sound more like dog catchers, but for addicts.

I have visions of Cruella Deville rounding up Dalmatians for nefarious reasons.

Here is a The Byrds song about a dog.