Boom, Boom, Down Goes the Dad

I've heard estimates about the percentage of the population that is affected by the behavior of an alcoholic - either a family member, close friend, or work associate.  The number escapes me but I know it was unbelievably high.  I think the statistics in the US suggest that 8% of us have a serious alcohol problem.  That's like 30 million people.  That's a lot of people.  I'm not even going to get into how much time the cops spend on alcohol-related crimes or how many auto accidents are the result of alcohol impairment.  There is no way that any other disease is so costly to the country than alcohol.

I think often of the end days of SuperK's father.  Although he died of emphysema and not alcoholism he was definitely one of us, and he was sober at the end only because he couldn't get his hands on anything to drink.  What I remember is hearing about the mental and spiritual anguish suffered by someone who had spent his entire life doing exactly what he wanted to do and then was confronted with his own mortality.  He wanted to turn the battleship around, to feel connected to people and to a god, but it was a big boat that had been steaming ahead under full throttle for years and years, with lots and lots of momentum.  It's tough to expect people who have been subjected to selfishness to rally around at the end.

I spoke to dad today.  He's still in the hospital where he's getting physical therapy because he's so unsteady on his feet.  What a waste of time that is - there are professional athletes with magnificently toned bodies who are unsteady on their feet after a bottle of vodka.  He'll be released soon into a rehab unit where they'll give him more therapy and feed him some real food so he'll improve slightly, get to a place where he can go home and drink some more and fall down and go to the hospital and so on and so forth.  He even brought up leaving his apartment and moving into an assisted living facility.  I can't believe he hasn't broken a hip or conked his head on the corner of a table yet.

We drunks are resourceful in our ability to deny, deny, deny.  I know my drinking caused problem after problem which I dutifully, rigorously, implausibly blamed on people, places, and things, anything but my drinking.  I wanted to drink.  Damned be the consequences.  I felt remorseful about my drinking and the resulting problems but some more alcohol helped me deal with that.

Sigh.