I don’t even know where to begin.
I decided to go home Monday morning to check on things. He was not getting any better or sounding close to sober Saturday or Sunday. I got up early and went up the stairs and opened the door. Everything was basically as I’d left it nights before. He was passed out, soundly on the chair/ottoman. No more cans or bottles. All video games and equipment was also visible. Was a neighbor supplying him? Did his mother bring him money? I went to the kitchen to feed the cats. Turned around to the buffet and there it was, plain as day. I couldn’t believe what I saw. The lid was off. When I’d last used it, there was probably around – or just under a half of a bottle. Now there was maybe a few drops left. He had drank 70% isopropyl alcohol.
I went to wake him. I told him to get up; that we needed to go to the hospital. He woke and was surprisingly coherent for having drunk so much alcohol. I said, “Did you drink this?” holding the bottle out to him. He would say “No” or shake his head but I knew better. He went and smoked, went to the bathroom and came and layed down on the living room floor. He said he just needed one more drink. I kept arguing with him, that if he didn’t get to a hospital and then drank more beer, that he would kill himself. He finally agreed to go – so I grabbed all of his medication and diabetes supplies, some boxers, t-shirt and pants and out the door we went.
He wanted to go to a local clinic-type facility, where he’d been numerous times before for detox. I waited in the car and told him to let me know if they had room for him. About a half hour or so later I went in with his bag and told the receptionist that I wasn’t sure if he would get a bed, but that I needed to go to work. She took the bag from me and I left. Luckily my office is only about five minutes from the clinic. Got to work, walked to my desk and the phone rang.
“They won’t admit me because I told them I drank rubbing alcohol. I have to get clearance from the hospital”. I started to get really mad, having to lose more work hours because of his nonsense. I picked him back up and we went to the hospital, which was also close by. Checked into the emergency room, and in less than an hour he had a bed. They bagan drawing blood, asking all kinds of questions and even gave him an EKG. The morning turned to afternoon and I began to doze off a bit. Around 1:30 or 2pm doctors came to see him and ask more questions – a lot about his drinking history and if he’d ever drank rubbing alcohol before. Before I knew it, they told me they wanted to admit him to keep an eye on him, run some more tests and get his blood sugar level. Upstairs we went.
Once the doctors saw him he broke down crying. I hate to tell you that it broke my heart. This is the man that I love and he his my husband. He has a chronic illness that has negatively affected every aspect of his life and here he was, lying in a hispital bed, looking more like an invalid than the intelligent, caring person that he is. I tried to keep a tough exterior up and even managed to snap at him a few times and remind him how he’d ruined our wedding anniversary.
Once upstairs in his room, there were more blood tests, more EKG’s, more nurses. He wasn’t allowed to eat or even drink water. He broke down again. I just told him that for now I would be his friend and help him through this mess.
They released him this evening, back to the clinic to continue the detox. I have not the faintest idea how I am going to begin to pay this bill. What am I going to do if he drinks again? I really do not know if I have it in me to leave him for good. I know it sounds absolutely insane, and maybe it is, but I really don’t know if I could do it. I truly love him with all of my heart and it hurts me to see him suffer and hurt himself. But I know that the next time I see him with heavy eyelids and holding a 40oz, I will be filled with anger, hurt and even hatred. It’s a sick cycle and I am stuck in it and I don’t know what to do.
Of course this is the condensed version of the story, but you get the most important highlights. I missed two full days of work that I will not be paid for. I now owe thousands to a hospital. The sad part is that he will never be cured – no matter how much money we spend and no matter how much treatment he gets, he could turn around and do it all over again.
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