Addiction Oklahoma

A man is taken into the ambulance, known as a "booze bus," dedicated to keeping drunk people out of trouble on the streets, and out of hospital emergency rooms in the Soho area of central London area of Soho late Friday, April, 21, 2012. Binge drinking has reached crisis levels in Britain, health experts say, costing the cash-strapped National Health Service 2.7 billion pounds (US$4.4 billion) a year, including the cost of hospital admissions related to booze-fueled violence and longer-term health problems. Unlike all other major health threats, liver disease is on the rise in Britain, increasing by 25 percent in the last decade and causing a record level of deaths, according to recent government figures. (AP Photo/Alastair Grant)

Binge drinking has grown to crisis level in Great Britain

LONDON — The girls slumped in wheelchairs look barely conscious, their blond heads lolling above the plastic vomit bags tied like bibs around their necks. It's an hour to midnight on Friday, and the two girls, who look no older than 18, are being wheeled from an ambulance to a clinic set up discreetly in a dark alley in London's Soho entertainment district. They're the first of many to be picked up on this night by the ambulance, known as a "booze bus," and carried to the clinic — both government services dedicated to keeping drunk people out of trouble, and out of emergency rooms. Binge drinking has reached crisis levels in Britain, health experts say, costing the cash-strapped National Health Service 2.7 billion pounds (US$4.4 billion) a year, including the cost of hospital admissions related to booze-fueled violence and longer-term health problems.

nDepth Fighting Back: Brandon's Story

When Reggie Whitten's oldest son, Brandon, died after in a motorcycle crash in which prescription pain-killers and alcohol were a motivating factor, his life was destroyed. But in those darkest moments he found a small point of light that has grown into new life-long mission to help others and fight the same disease that helped take his son.

nDepth: A Thousand Hail Marys to Florida

I've walked down this hall too many times. So much trepidation. I hear my heart in my head. Will he be dead this time? Today I see his chest rise and fall. There is hope. "Get up! Get up right now!" I'm screaming at my 22-year-old son to get out of bed. He's stretched across the bed, beer cans strewed on the floor. The carpet is sticky. He has an itchy wool blanket covering the window. I flip on the light. His color is gray, dark circles under his eyes. He's so very thin, gaunt really. More nDepths