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!