A Bit of the Past

A commenter reminded me about something that had happened a while back and I live in it so often that I had forgotten about it, so I will share this story with you today.

A fellow AA friend who had been sober for many years and really worked himself into a fairly prominent position within our community had sponsored my husband.  He and his wife were active in AA and really did what they could to help the alcoholics who came to them and asked for it.  Well my husband had probably come off of another binge, but back then his binges lasted a lot longer because he readily had access to money.  Anyway, this friend had used his pull to get my husband into a sober living facility after he came out of detox.  This was huge for us.  The waiting line was usually weeks if not months out, so it was a big deal that our friend put my husband in the front of the line.  I was so excited to get some peace and hopefully some help.

This place was no “celebrity rehab”, though.  It was billed on a sliding scale, or free depending on your economic situation.  There were heroin addicts mixed in with alcoholics and prescription addicts.  It wasn’t the nicest place, but it was a huge favor and exactly what my husband needed.  Since my husband had diabetes, I needed to take supplies to the house for him, and even though we weren’t supposed to “visit”, I was still able to see him for the first few days.  We weren’t supposed to talk on the phone, either, but he was given allowance to call for different supplies he needed.  He complained to me more than once about other men in the house, and chores he was given to do.  You see, my husband grew up as an only child and was spoiled in regards to having to share or clean up after himself.

It was a Friday night, and it had been about one week since my husband had been in the house.  I was at my grandparent’s house with some other family members and I remember feeling so happy; so relieved.  My family was also glad because they knew my husband is a good person with a horrible problem.  Well I got a call from the house and figured it was my husband.  It was not.  It was one of the facilitators.  He explained that he had taken a small group of men to a local AA meeting (which was common) and that my husband had gone out to smoke and never returned.  I have to tell you, maybe I was naive, but I thought something could have happened to him.  First of all, he had absolutely no money to get himself home.  The meeting was two towns away from our home.  It would have been crazy (and unlike my husband) to walk that far.  The meeting was also in a downtown area which was not the safest place to be.  I was pretty worried and had no way of contacting him.  I had to just wait to see what happened.

I called a good friend and we went driving around the downtown area, looking in local bars.  I thought, if he went AWOL from a sober house, surely the first thing he would do is go to a bar, and this area was rife with them.  We drove around for a couple hours, at least.  I decided to go home but ended up staying the night at another friend’s house, just so I wasn’t alone, as I was pretty upset at this point.  The next morning, I called his mother and explained what happend.  We both decided we should check local hospitals to see if he had ended up there.  I was going to go home, get dressed and pick her up.  I went home and the animals greeted me and I walked into the kitchen.  I was caught off guard from seeing broken glass all over the floor.  Did someone break in?  The back door had been broken and a brick was nearby.  I walked back into the living room and sure enough, there he lay on the couch…I hadn’t even seen him when I first came in!  He was passed out.  I was furious.  By this time, my family was calling to see if I’d heard anything and I told them about the door.  A little while later they came over to replace the glass in the door.  Nothing was really said after that.  Come to think of it, I think that’s when the relationship between my husband and grandfather went south.  I think he lost a lot of respect for him after that stunt.

Like I said, this happened back in 2003 maybe?  I can’t really remember now.  Every year is the same, with the drinking and sickness and promises.  Having said that, he is still doing well as of this morning.  He went to a meeting Thursday and Friday nights and we have plans tonight and he has an appointment this afternoon that I am certain he wouldn’t miss…so, I am safe for at least 24 hours.  As the days go by since he last drank, I will start to think it’s going to happen any day now.  That’s just how it goes.

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Discharge

My little “vacation” is over.  I am at job #1 today and was away from my desk for about one minute and during that time, he called and left a message.  He said that they had discharged him but that he would spend the day there until I was finished working to come get him.  Or, he might ask one of this friends to pick him up and take him to their home meeting.

I don’t know how I feel yet.  I didn’t get home till around 9 last night…long story.  In the bathroom, he had overturned a full wastebasket looking for cigarette butts to smoke.  I had to clean that up.  In the living room, there were numerous cans and 40 oz bottles to pick up, and his makeshift ashtray (nut can) had somehow been overturned and there was a large pile of ash and butts to clean up.  The couch and chairs were all messed up with the pillows strewn about.  Oh, and the poor cats were upset.  Things had been knocked off of the kitchen counter as well as a lamp from my mantle (they don’t normally cause ruckus because they’re all older cats).  I’m particularly upset about that one, because I don’t know if I can replace that lamp, and I like it a lot.  So, I vacuumed and threw some things out.  I cleaned up the trash on my hands and knees in the bathroom.  Near the ashtray spill there was a beer spill and it seems sticky/crusty and has stained the carpet.  More work.

My bedroom is another story.  I cannot sleep in my bed because of the mess he has made of that room.  There is a path, through cans and bottles to my vanity where I do my makeup every morning, but other than that, I refuse to go into that room.  It smells.  The bed just has trash and clothes piled up on it (he likes to eat in bed).  We do keep a lot of extra things in there because we have limited space where we live, but I had things mostly boxed up and put as far away as possible.  He just keeps accumulating junk and clothes he’ll never wear and it all goes into the bedroom.  Forks and glasses and God knows what else is left in there by him.  I have cleaned it before but he just does the same thing.  Well I have decided I am going to put my foot down this time about his messes.  I am not a slob and I don’t like living as one.  I could potentially store things in containers underneath my bed, but every square inch of space under the bed has been taken over by boxes of beer cans and bottles.  He used to “hide” them from me under the bed, but now there is no space left.

I need to give him an ultimatum.  I hate living in his messes.  He is home over half of the day and two days a week he has no classes and could do something.  He is just lazy and used to being spoiled and I’m so sick of it.

I am not looking forward to him coming home.  He will expect to be babied and felt sorry for and I’m just not in the mood.  I do much better when I’m by myself.

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Where do I Start?

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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Meetings

He went to a meeting last night – the first in quite some time; I believe he considers it his home group.  He had met a lot of great people going to this meeting, one of which was the person who sponsored him when he had his longest run of sobriety ever – 6 months.  I drop him off and then go visit a friend and then wait for him to call him after the meeting to pick him up.  While I was sitting in the car waiting for him, I saw his friends giving him really sincere hugs (that sounds kinda silly but true).  It’s hard for me to look at these guys and imagine that they’ve done the same things my husband has.  They all seem so normal!  When I see them accept him back time and time again, I know they understand.  It makes me feel happy to know he has support and I wish he would just take it from them.  He didn’t seem too happy to go while we were on the way there, but he did say that if he doesn’t go, he’ll quickly forget where he was last week, and drink again.

Last week, he drank and got pretty bad.  He had agreed to go to detox and a few hours later, he called me at work and asked me to come get him.  I thought maybe he got kicked out because he’d been there so many times before.  No.  He just “couldn’t take it”.  I was furious and refused to let him back into the house.  His mom went to get him at detox and ended up taking him to a hotel (basically next door to our house!) and gave him beer.  I was so angry.  I ended up being able to trade him cigarettes for the beer that was left and he ended up detoxing on his own.  This all happened on election day, which also angers me because he didn’t vote.  I told him the next time he drinks, I’m going to bring people in (friends and family) and move him out to the street.  So, I hope he decides to do the right thing this time.

I hope he continues to go to meetings.  I can’t take another week of this drinking drama.

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