Ariella Morrow, an internal medicine doctor, gradually slid from healthy self-esteem and professional success into the depths of depression.
Beginning in 2015, she suffered a string of personal troubles, including a shattering family trauma, marital strife, and a major professional setback. At first, sheer grit and determination kept her going, but eventually she was unable to keep her troubles at bay and took refuge in heavy drinking. By late 2020, Morrow could barely get out of bed and didn’t shower or brush her teeth for weeks on end. She was up to two bottles of wine a day, alternating it with Scotch whisky.
Sitting in her well-appointed home on a recent autumn afternoon, adorned in a bright lavender dress, matching lipstick, and a large pearl necklace, Morrow traced the arc of her surrender to alcohol: “I’m not going to drink before 5 p.m. I’m not going to drink before 2. I’m not going to drink while the kids are home. And then, it was 10 o’clock, 9 o’clock, wake up and drink.”
As addiction and overdose deaths command headlines across the nation, the Medical Board of California, which licenses MDs, is developing a new program to treat and monitor doctors with alcohol and drug problems. But a fault line has appeared over whether those who join the new program without being ordered to by the board should be subject to public disclosure.
Exactly what I came to say