I am not a particular fan of beer.

My family certainly did not have it in the house.

(Control freak that I am, I even had trouble with Passover wine.  I never — and I mean never — managed to imagine how anybody made it through the allegedly requisite four glasses.)

I really don’t remember tasting beer until I was working Mme.Mareschal’s Cafe “Les Arcades” in Amiens, France, — a quaint village where I attended medical school — where beer was a staple.  In fact, it was pretty much a staple everywhere in Northern France. Read more on Alarmism vs. Real Worries About Beer…

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She was nearly thirty, dark haired and round-faced and ambitious, and wanted to be a drug and alcohol counselor, maybe.  Maybe not.  She had only three months of sobriety from alcohol; probably wanted to be one of those people in power.  So many programs dry people out and let them “stay on” a bit.  So many people use their own exaggerated stories to “help” other people stay sober.  A closet industry of subjective touchy feely, trampling, as many do on my long years of difficult, mind boggling training with cheap feel-good.

Her drug and alcohol counselor had told her that she would feel rotten for a while, so she had accepted that. But she felt obligated to tell me that she had felt rotten, so I let her talk and tried to listen.

People coming off alcohol may take as much as a year to get their sleep cycle back (alcohol represses Rapid Eye Movement sleep) and to stop feeling a little bit nervous.  But this was not that. Read more on Serotonin Syndrome: Less Is More…