The Liver, In Short

Bleeding esophageal varices:  Scarring (cirrhosis) of the liver is the most common cause.  This scarring cuts down on blood flowing through the liver.  As a result, more blood flows through the veins of the esophagus.  The extra blood flow causes the veins in the esophagus to balloon outward.  

When one of these swollen veins ruptured the amount of blood loss is shocking.

"There is currently no way to compensate for the absence of liver function in the long term."

(Ed note:  That kooky liver, anyway.  You do not want to screw around with the liver).

I got a call from my sponsor the other day - he passed along the phone number of another sponsee.  This guy has a son who is living in The Old City and struggling with The Disease.  My sponsor suggested that I might be a good reference vis-a-vis the recovery community there.  My sponsor is irrationally optimistic in using the word "good resource" as something that I may be. Delusional, perhaps.

I called this man and we had a nice talk.  His son is not fooling around.  He has lost a few jobs and his wife, too, the woman wisely taking their children with her.  He has been in the hospital a few times for some scary-sounding bleeding episodes.  He did spend some time in one of the more rigorous treatment modalities in town - one where the residents are not permitted to work and are held to strict guidelines as far as . . . you know . . . partying is concerned.  Your whereabouts are monitored.  Your behavior is closely monitored.  Your presence is required at many events that the recently sober may find onerous.  Your opinion is unnecessary.

He had, of course, differences with the director, a man who has dealt with many, many drunks and is not at all interested in operational suggestions.  Out the door he went.  The drunk - not the director.  His father explained to me that his son was looking for a residential living arrangement that permitted him to work, ostensibly so that he could continue to provide for his children.  Admirable if true - unsurprising if a feint.

My go-to guy in this arena in The Old City is Shorty, who provided some options.  We reflected on the ability of drunks to deflect and delay, to seek the most rope, the longest, strongest rope with which to hang oneself.  We marveled - with empathy, I hope - at the mental gymnastics that a man who is dancing with death has to go through to justify putting himself in a totally unsupervised environment in an empty house, relying solely on his own willpower to get out and get to a meeting.

That, my friends, is a tall order.