It was May 2009 when everything came to a dramatic head.
I had been sleeping on the couch in the living room to give Paul a bit more rest, and he woke me up about 2am and asked me to call an ambulance.
When I had collected my thoughts he told me that he had just been sick and thrown up about two pints of blood - as he was telling me this he suddenly became sick again and I rushed to get a bowl from the kitchen and he promptly threw up what looked like another few litres of blood.
I called for the ambulance service who arrived within about two minutes and they checked his blood pressure which was alarmingly low and immediately put him into the ambulance. I offered to go with him, but he didn't want me there (he thought he was going to die and didn't want me to watch it happen). It seemed an age before the ambulance set off, and I only found out later that he had actually died in the ambulance and they had managed to bring him back, hence the delay.
Apparently, he "died" twice more - once on the way and then again when they got him to Accident and Emergency. He had only one pint of blood left in his system at that point so they immediately gave him blood transfusions and had to resuscitate him. Needless to say he was extremely lucky to have been cared for by an excellent pair of paramedics and then later in hospital.
He spent two weeks in hospital on this occasion and later told me that the worst part of dying was the coming back - a lot of pain from the resuscitation process - and he asked me to promise that if anything like that happened again, I should ask the medics not to resuscitate. It was really hard to do but I made the promise, not really being sure that I could ever carry it out, but for now, at least, I still had him.
More to follow..
Sunday, 23 May 2010
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Don't Try To Change Me!
We think we've made a breakthrough with the twitches!
As part of his ongoing treatment Paul has been taking Propanalol tablets - they are to help slow down his heart rate which in turn relieves the pressure on his liver and kidneys. He has been taking 4 a day, two in the morning and two at night. The other day he forgot to take his night time dose and would you believe it - the twitches stopped!
So, now we try to make sure that he takes his Propranalol tablets well before bedtime, and it seems to be working. Why couldn't his doctors work that one out?
Back to our story....
One of the first things Paul ever said to me after we got together, was "Don't try to change me!".
I have learned over the years that the worst thing you can do in any relationship is to try to change the person you are with. After all, you fell in love with them as they were....so why try to make them into something, or someone else?
So, when he said that, I promised him that I wouldn't ever try to make him into something he wasn't. I just replied, "If you want to change, you will, and I will support you all I can, but I will never try to impose anything on you that you don't want to do, or be".
It was very hard to say this. I knew that he was heading for a load of trouble because of his alcohol dependency, and I was constantly feeling angry and upset by his apparent determination to ruin his life for the sake of the drink, but I also knew that the more I nagged and complained, the more determined he would be to carry on!
I think the "change", when it came, was very gradual, and I am glad to say that really, apart from just being there for him, it wasn't me who changed him. He did it himself, eventually, because he was intelligent enough to understand the damage he was doing and he truly wanted to free himself from his addiction.
The start of this change began when, after a long night's sleep in bed, we noticed a lot of blood on his pillow.
At first, he put it down to a habit he had of dribbling in his sleep, and he blamed all the red wine he had been drinking the night before. I didn't think this was the case, but I just kept changing the pillow cases, as required, and eventually, after a good few weeks, he confessed to me that this wasn't the only problem he was having.
He was losing a lot of blood when he went to the toilet, which he said was probably due to piles but he was also coughing up blood from time to time. I immediately said that I thought he should go to his doctor, and he said he hated going to the doctors because in his opinion, they knew nothing. However, under a lot of duress he finally agreed to go and we made an appointment for him.
The doctor asked him how much he was drinking and Paul told him he drank quite a lot, and the doctor told him to cut right down, checked his blood pressure which was fine, and did a blood test to check his liver count.
One week later we went back for the results - his liver count was over 600! To put that into perspective, I had a test recently as part of my ongoing treatment for Type 2 Diabetes and the liver count was 80. I wasn't a particularly heavy drinker but was doing about 21 units a week which is 7 units too many, and I was advised to cut down my own alcohol intake. I did, and it has now returned to normal.
His doctor asked if he had cut down the alcohol and Paul said he had. He hadn't! He was still drinking as much as ever. The doctor told him that he MUST cut down, and referred him to the local Drug and Alcohol counselling service and also to a hospital psychiatrist. To be fair to Paul, he did attend both of these sessions, but in both cases the outcome was that he needed to do something for himself, and he just wasn't ready for to do it.
He did try to stop drinking. He cut out all spirits and reduced his wine consumption, and started spending less time at the pub. He started to eat properly and for the first time since we met I started to see him sober.
He was still Paul, but much more serious - no wise cracks or jokes - just, normal, and for a few weeks I lived with a new man. We ate out more and family and friends noticed a difference in him, a positive one.
But it didn't last. He was miserable all the time and really struggling, feeling that no-one liked him unless he was playing the fool and making them laugh. He said to me "That's what I do - I make people laugh!".
In the meantime, we had to change jobs. We were still in the publishing business, and Paul was still in management, but now working from Bolton which on the one hand was good - we didn't need to get up so early in the morning, and we were back in Chorley earlier most nights, but it also meant that we were in the pub earlier. More temptation and drinking time for Paul.
He relapsed and started losing a lot of blood again, the weight was dropping off him, and he was permanently tired. He was becoming very unwell and refusing to do anything to help himself.
See you soon!
Chrissie
As part of his ongoing treatment Paul has been taking Propanalol tablets - they are to help slow down his heart rate which in turn relieves the pressure on his liver and kidneys. He has been taking 4 a day, two in the morning and two at night. The other day he forgot to take his night time dose and would you believe it - the twitches stopped!
So, now we try to make sure that he takes his Propranalol tablets well before bedtime, and it seems to be working. Why couldn't his doctors work that one out?
Back to our story....
One of the first things Paul ever said to me after we got together, was "Don't try to change me!".
I have learned over the years that the worst thing you can do in any relationship is to try to change the person you are with. After all, you fell in love with them as they were....so why try to make them into something, or someone else?
So, when he said that, I promised him that I wouldn't ever try to make him into something he wasn't. I just replied, "If you want to change, you will, and I will support you all I can, but I will never try to impose anything on you that you don't want to do, or be".
It was very hard to say this. I knew that he was heading for a load of trouble because of his alcohol dependency, and I was constantly feeling angry and upset by his apparent determination to ruin his life for the sake of the drink, but I also knew that the more I nagged and complained, the more determined he would be to carry on!
I think the "change", when it came, was very gradual, and I am glad to say that really, apart from just being there for him, it wasn't me who changed him. He did it himself, eventually, because he was intelligent enough to understand the damage he was doing and he truly wanted to free himself from his addiction.
The start of this change began when, after a long night's sleep in bed, we noticed a lot of blood on his pillow.
At first, he put it down to a habit he had of dribbling in his sleep, and he blamed all the red wine he had been drinking the night before. I didn't think this was the case, but I just kept changing the pillow cases, as required, and eventually, after a good few weeks, he confessed to me that this wasn't the only problem he was having.
He was losing a lot of blood when he went to the toilet, which he said was probably due to piles but he was also coughing up blood from time to time. I immediately said that I thought he should go to his doctor, and he said he hated going to the doctors because in his opinion, they knew nothing. However, under a lot of duress he finally agreed to go and we made an appointment for him.
The doctor asked him how much he was drinking and Paul told him he drank quite a lot, and the doctor told him to cut right down, checked his blood pressure which was fine, and did a blood test to check his liver count.
One week later we went back for the results - his liver count was over 600! To put that into perspective, I had a test recently as part of my ongoing treatment for Type 2 Diabetes and the liver count was 80. I wasn't a particularly heavy drinker but was doing about 21 units a week which is 7 units too many, and I was advised to cut down my own alcohol intake. I did, and it has now returned to normal.
His doctor asked if he had cut down the alcohol and Paul said he had. He hadn't! He was still drinking as much as ever. The doctor told him that he MUST cut down, and referred him to the local Drug and Alcohol counselling service and also to a hospital psychiatrist. To be fair to Paul, he did attend both of these sessions, but in both cases the outcome was that he needed to do something for himself, and he just wasn't ready for to do it.
He did try to stop drinking. He cut out all spirits and reduced his wine consumption, and started spending less time at the pub. He started to eat properly and for the first time since we met I started to see him sober.
He was still Paul, but much more serious - no wise cracks or jokes - just, normal, and for a few weeks I lived with a new man. We ate out more and family and friends noticed a difference in him, a positive one.
But it didn't last. He was miserable all the time and really struggling, feeling that no-one liked him unless he was playing the fool and making them laugh. He said to me "That's what I do - I make people laugh!".
In the meantime, we had to change jobs. We were still in the publishing business, and Paul was still in management, but now working from Bolton which on the one hand was good - we didn't need to get up so early in the morning, and we were back in Chorley earlier most nights, but it also meant that we were in the pub earlier. More temptation and drinking time for Paul.
He relapsed and started losing a lot of blood again, the weight was dropping off him, and he was permanently tired. He was becoming very unwell and refusing to do anything to help himself.
See you soon!
Chrissie
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Shakin' All Over!
Latest on Paul's present condition - now he's got the shakes!
He's fine during the day but when he tries to relax at night, either watching TV or when he's in bed, he's developed a fairly pronounced twitch.It's usually in one leg or the other, but for no apparent reason his right leg will suddenly do its own thing and jump quite violently. This happens every 30 seconds or so.
Basically, it's so bad that he can't sleep for it, and it's wearing him down. We think it's something to do with the medication he's on. Currently he's taking about 10 different tablets a day, just to keep him alive!
Back to our history....
I was used to spending many nights at the pub - my ex-partner was a fairly prolific drinker, who, by the way, has now cut down drastically, partly due to cost-cutting, but also mainly due to having seen the effect that the toll of heavy drinking has taken on Paul. The difference now is that Paul has always been a daytime drinker rather than an evening drinker, and this took me some getting used to at first.
We would get up around 7am to get ready for work, then either take the train or drive to Poulton-le-Fylde where we were working and work until 12.30. Then it was time for the daily run into town for lunch at the local pub. This invariably meant that Paul would drink at least 2 pints, sometimes 3, and more often than not, lunch for him was a liquid one. Then at 2.30 it was back to the office until 4.45pm, followed by a quick trip to the pub for another pint while we waited for our train back to Chorley.
Normally, by this stage I was ready for home, but not Paul, so, next was a trip to our local pub, The Swan With Two Necks in Chorley where Paul would top himself up with 4 or 5 more pints.
We would probably, if I was lucky(!), leave the pub at about 9.30pm, and on the way home we would call into the local Co-op and I would buy at least 2 bottles of wine, sometimes 3, which he would consume before bed. While Paul was drinking his wine, I might occasionally join him for a couple of glasses while I ate my evening meal. Invariably, I would ask Paul if he wanted something to eat, and more often than not the answer would be a resounding "No thank you"!
Normally, we would go to bed at about midnight but, always in the small hours, Paul would get up and raid the fridge and eat whatever had been left there from the day before, or if all else failed he would raid the larder for jars of pickles and that would be the only time he would eat.
This went on for almost 18 months before something happened that began to change our lives
forever.
Next time I'll tell you what happened next.
See you later!
He's fine during the day but when he tries to relax at night, either watching TV or when he's in bed, he's developed a fairly pronounced twitch.It's usually in one leg or the other, but for no apparent reason his right leg will suddenly do its own thing and jump quite violently. This happens every 30 seconds or so.
Basically, it's so bad that he can't sleep for it, and it's wearing him down. We think it's something to do with the medication he's on. Currently he's taking about 10 different tablets a day, just to keep him alive!
Back to our history....
I was used to spending many nights at the pub - my ex-partner was a fairly prolific drinker, who, by the way, has now cut down drastically, partly due to cost-cutting, but also mainly due to having seen the effect that the toll of heavy drinking has taken on Paul. The difference now is that Paul has always been a daytime drinker rather than an evening drinker, and this took me some getting used to at first.
We would get up around 7am to get ready for work, then either take the train or drive to Poulton-le-Fylde where we were working and work until 12.30. Then it was time for the daily run into town for lunch at the local pub. This invariably meant that Paul would drink at least 2 pints, sometimes 3, and more often than not, lunch for him was a liquid one. Then at 2.30 it was back to the office until 4.45pm, followed by a quick trip to the pub for another pint while we waited for our train back to Chorley.
Normally, by this stage I was ready for home, but not Paul, so, next was a trip to our local pub, The Swan With Two Necks in Chorley where Paul would top himself up with 4 or 5 more pints.
We would probably, if I was lucky(!), leave the pub at about 9.30pm, and on the way home we would call into the local Co-op and I would buy at least 2 bottles of wine, sometimes 3, which he would consume before bed. While Paul was drinking his wine, I might occasionally join him for a couple of glasses while I ate my evening meal. Invariably, I would ask Paul if he wanted something to eat, and more often than not the answer would be a resounding "No thank you"!
Normally, we would go to bed at about midnight but, always in the small hours, Paul would get up and raid the fridge and eat whatever had been left there from the day before, or if all else failed he would raid the larder for jars of pickles and that would be the only time he would eat.
This went on for almost 18 months before something happened that began to change our lives
forever.
Next time I'll tell you what happened next.
See you later!
Friday, 19 February 2010
Update:
Paul had a terrible night last night! Seems to have developed a twitch in his legs and this is driving him potty - can't sleep for it. That, and the itching all over as well.
We don't know what causes the twitches but according to his GP all of these strange ailments are just more symptoms of his underlying problem - fatty liver disease, also known as Terminal Liver Failure.
Back to our story
Moving in together so soon after meeting was a big culture shock for both of us as we began to realise that we didn't know each other as well as we thought we did. I can't really speak for Paul, but from my point of view there were a lot of things that I had to get used to.
The first thing that struck me was something that I hadn't been expecting at all, and that was a purely physical thing - I was amazed at how thin Paul was! He is well over 6 foot tall and weighed less than 10 stones. Apparently, at one time he was over 18 stones, but that was about 15 years ago when he was a lot younger and earning £100K plus every year.
Looking back now it was stupid of me not to catch onto the fact that for two years he had been living on the breadline, sometimes even sleeping rough, and he hadn't eaten properly in all that time. Not only that, even though at the time he was in denial, as an alcoholic, whenever he had any money, rather than eat, he would buy drink. After having drunk himself into a stupor, he would be too full to eat in any case, so he didn't bother!
I often used to wonder why a lot of the heavy drinkers I met in pubs never seemed to eat anything. Now I know that you can get just as full on beer as food and if you are addicted to alcohol, THAT always comes first!
That's all for now....next time I'll discuss Paul's day to day habits and how he would sometimes drive me to despair!
Thanks and adios!
Chrissie
Paul had a terrible night last night! Seems to have developed a twitch in his legs and this is driving him potty - can't sleep for it. That, and the itching all over as well.
We don't know what causes the twitches but according to his GP all of these strange ailments are just more symptoms of his underlying problem - fatty liver disease, also known as Terminal Liver Failure.
Back to our story
Moving in together so soon after meeting was a big culture shock for both of us as we began to realise that we didn't know each other as well as we thought we did. I can't really speak for Paul, but from my point of view there were a lot of things that I had to get used to.
The first thing that struck me was something that I hadn't been expecting at all, and that was a purely physical thing - I was amazed at how thin Paul was! He is well over 6 foot tall and weighed less than 10 stones. Apparently, at one time he was over 18 stones, but that was about 15 years ago when he was a lot younger and earning £100K plus every year.
Looking back now it was stupid of me not to catch onto the fact that for two years he had been living on the breadline, sometimes even sleeping rough, and he hadn't eaten properly in all that time. Not only that, even though at the time he was in denial, as an alcoholic, whenever he had any money, rather than eat, he would buy drink. After having drunk himself into a stupor, he would be too full to eat in any case, so he didn't bother!
I often used to wonder why a lot of the heavy drinkers I met in pubs never seemed to eat anything. Now I know that you can get just as full on beer as food and if you are addicted to alcohol, THAT always comes first!
That's all for now....next time I'll discuss Paul's day to day habits and how he would sometimes drive me to despair!
Thanks and adios!
Chrissie
Saturday, 13 February 2010
Where it all began
We were introduced by John, a very good mutual friend of ours who has since, very sadly, passed away.
John had explained to me briefly about Paul's alcohol addiction so I was under no illusions, but he was such a funny, lovely man, with many, many stories to tell about his life as a Staff Sargeant in the British Army, his 10 years in Cyprus, 2 years in Canada and his early life in Carlisle, I couldn't help but be drawn to him, and according to John, the attraction was mutual.
We became friends and twelve months later, both with previous relationships that had failed for various reasons, we found ourselves thrown together by circumstances and started living together.
Paul's previous marriage had broken down. His wife of 10 years had virtually destroyed him, leaving one day with the two kids he had adopted, his treasured BMW, and most of his belongings, effectively forcing all of them out of the lovely home they had created.
My relationship with my partner had been going down hill for a number of years and after I found out that he had been unfaithfull to me with a girlfriend of mine, I decided enough was enough.
Paul and I met each other while we were both on a downhill slope, to quote Bonnie Raitte, we found each other just "In The Nick of Time".
Neither of us had any work to speak of. Paul had lost his job as a Sales Manager for a media sales company due to a drunk driving conviction. He lost his licence, and his wife was driving for him but one day decided she'd had enough. With no reliable means of transport, he was unable to do his job and had to quit. I had worked with my previous partner as a long distance trucker and had virtually lived in the wagon so had no real home to speak of - apart from a caravan that we used when we weren't "on the road", so I was, at that point unemployed..
Paul said he wanted to look after me and luckily, he had been well respected in his line of business, and within days of us getting together, he managed to secure a good paying position as Sales Manager for a publishing company. It was office based so he commuted to work on the train and I stayed home "looking for work". I was bored and his job sounded great so he asked me to go to work with him as a researcher, so I joined him shortly after at the same company, eventually getting involved in the medial sales side of the business. For a good six months we were "in clover". The money was good and although we worked hard, we also played hard - especially Paul!!!
This is our story. From when we met, to the ups and downs of Paul's addiction to alcohol, his subsequent diagnosis with Terminal Liver Disease and hospitalisation, his efforts to quit drinking and his and how I learned to cope with his frequent heavy drinking sessions, his mood swings and dealing with the knowledge that one more drink could take him away from me forever.
Next time, I will tell you more, so please read my next chapter!
'Til then
Adios!
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