JOHN HAFFENDEN
571
tion, manipulation, blackouts, and euphoric recall. The
Patients'
Handbook,
given him on arrival at the Unit, declared that:
Alcoholism and other chemical dependencies are chronic diseases
affecting the LOtal personality and all the interpersonal relations of
its victims. Chemi call y dependent persons typically suffer progres–
sive deterioration of physical, emotional, mental , and spiritual
health. Their addiction to mood-changing chemicals produces this
havoc.
John Baudhuin, an undergraduate student in English literature
and himself a poet, was the orderly on duty the night Berryman entered
treatment. He had checked the waiting list earlier that Saturday
evening and was quite surprised
to
see Berryman's name; Baudhuin
was the only one on the staff that night who knew of Berryman's
reputation. Chris Fall , the Ward Secretary, certainl y did not recognize
the wretched figure when he arrived. "Who's Moses?" she asked, to be
told he was a Pulitzer prize-winning poet. John Baudhuin went down
to the admitting desk, and remembers feeling surprised "that such a
man of wit and genius could be so incredibly broken down and so
ordinarily intoxicated. . . . I went through the usual admitting proce–
dure. His beard at the time was untrimmed and shaggy, his eyes
hollowed out, and there were large blisters on his hands from wayward
cigarettes. H e trembled a bit, and talked incessantly. He was still quite
intoxicated. After the admitting procedure and a brief interview with
Ka te, I had
to
attend to other duties. " Berryman then parked himself in
front of the nursing station and proceeded to chat volubly to Chris Fall.
Baudhuin returned after a while,
and then sat LO listen as John quoted excerpts from everything
written and perhaps from some works yet to be written . He offered
some passages in Greek, then a few haiku poems in Japanese, which
he then proceeded to translate for us. He stood up and sang an old
blues song, and he later offered some rather garbled philosophy.
Beneath the wit and charm and the alcoholic haze, I think he was
incredibly lonely and acutely aware of the deteriorated state of his
life.
According to Vernon Johnson's book,
I'll Quit Tomorrow ,
the
patient "goes through admission and detoxification, if needed, and
spends twenty-four hours under observation. He is in bed, with a
medical regime for withdrawal and a routine medical checkup. Con–
trary to popular belief, physical withdrawal usually presents no major
