Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)
REHAB FOR BILLIONAIRES
They don’t go to any old clinic, they call the rich-lister’s rehab squad – the A-Team of all mental health clinics
JUST for a moment, let’s pretend you are fabulously, grotesquely rich.
You have dozens of staff and phalanxes of security guards and hangers-on. You have your hair blow-dried every day, a manicure and massage every other day. You have never boiled an egg, ironed a shirt or been on public transport. Instead, you have your own chauffeur, limousine and private jet to zip between your slew of luxury homes.
But, sadly, money can’t buy everything. So, along with a quarter of the UK population, you also suffer from mental health issues all exacerbated by your vast, isolating fortune.
For an impressively long time you hide your problems. But one day your housekeeper finds you curled up in a ball on the floor in one of your marble-and-gold-plated bathrooms and there’s no escaping the fact that you need help urgently. So, do you check into the Priory or Nightingale Clinic in London for 28 days? Or The Meadows in Arizona?
Don’t be daft – you’re one of the world’s super rich! You’re not used to mixing with normal people, let alone doing group therapy with them. You can’t be seen hanging out in a treatment centre with hoi polloi such as Ant McPartlin and Katie Price, popping out for a photo shoot every so often to prove to your fans you’re sharpening up your act.
You need utter discretion because your brand, company or (possibly royal) family name could be at stake.
So you call Addcounsel – the A-Team for the superlatively rich with mental health problems. They will ensure that, by the end of the day, you’re safely ensconced in your very own multimillion pound home from home, tucked down a discreet road in London’s Belgravia.
Addcounsel is a bespoke mental health provider for ultra-rich people. Its Premium Bespoke package includes private islands, live-in carers, Michelin-star level food.
For starters, you’ll have a topto-toe health check – CT scan, blood tests, ultrasounds, liver check, medical tests which assess nutrition, deficiencies and gut health.
All treatment is overseen by your private GP who liaises with psychiatrists, psychologists and the best alcohol-, drug- and sex-addiction counsellors in the world.
Some of the staff actually live with you, 24 hours a day. A recovery manager – companion, confidante, opera buddy, tennis partner, Monopoly opponent, whatever you fancy – is also there to keep you on the straight and narrow. And not just during. Afterwards, they’ll move home with you. Stay for Christmas, if necessary. Come on holiday. Fly to meetings if you’re feeling wobbly.
A full treatment programme can easily top £1 million, particularly if you choose to continue your recovery in the company’s castle or its island.
“We have a vast menu of services and nothing is off limits – so long as it’s good for you,” says chief executive Paul Flynn, 45.
It all came about because, as Flynn puts it: “The super rich weren’t getting the service they wanted – bespoke wrap-around care that focuses as much on the long-term recovery as the treatment.”
Addcounsel was co-founded by Flynn (a former recruitment executive, who sold his company for “a lot”) and Michael Ishmail, 47, clinical director. The third wheel, Jonathan Edgeley, 42, is the relationship director, who deals with the money.
All three sport very white teeth and ostentatious watches. “You have to look the part,” says Edgeley.
All have enjoyed the cushion of wealth and experienced the desperation of addiction.
Flynn has been clean for 12 years, but previously drank and snorted “a lot” of the £30 000 he earned a week.
Ishmail had no “off switch” – a few drinks and he’d “get the flavour for anything”. Edgeley is in recovery.
They based their operations in London because it’s the third-richest wealth pool in the world. According to a report published this month, Britain is now home to more than 2.4 million dollar millionaires.
“Treatment shouldn’t feel like a punishment,” says Flynn. “They’re used to butlers and beauticians and deep luxury, so that’s what we give them, along with the world’s best medical practitioners.”
According to Addcounsel GP Dr Amarjit Raindi, being filthy rich can be just as bad for your mental health as living in poverty, but for different reasons.
The super wealthy tend to have few friends and those they do have are often more like paid staff. Many live in a bubble, terrified of kidnap, neurotic about cyber attacks and everyone constantly trying to rip them off, and unable to form strong relationships or trust others.
In the two years since they launched, Addcounsel have treated 12 patients. They claim to have a 90% success rate.
When the patient finally goes home, the recovery manager goes ahead to sweep the house for drugs, booze, anything that might cause a problem.
Eventually, the recovery manager’s involvement will taper off and the patient will be left to resume their life, hopefully happier, healthier and nicer.
And, of course, a good £1m or so lighter of pocket. But then who cares if you’re a billionaire?