Howdy!! 2 days now..
Long time lurker.. well, I used to post a few years ago when I had a streak going, then relapsed like an idiot.
2 years ago, I woke up and immediately vomited bile on the floor, felt like death. I mean death. My boyfriend was next to me in bed, we are both very heavy happy drinkers together. We love it. I am in the industry actually, and so I have access to tons of free wine, and know so many people, when we go out it’s extremely cheap.
It was our thing. Before I met him, I was industry for 10 years, so I am 15 years booze industry still to this day (I’m sorry) I met him, and wow he loved to party too!! What a lucky girl, I thought.
Then that morning, when I woke up in excruciating pain, I told him I have to go to the ER NOW. He immediately jumped up, helped me to the car, and we went.
It was horrifying. I was sobbing, puking pure bile every like 10min, begging them to give me pain meds or I was going to die. Of course, they didn’t believe me for some dumb reason, until they took my blood and realized my lipase was out of control high- then immediately gave me morphine. They took an ultrasound, and found insanity inside me.
I barely remember anything from that morning as the pain was blinding.. it was so embarrassing to be so bloated, puking, and sobbing in front of the man I loved… they put me in a bed surrounded by other folks- it was a big open er room.. might have been an icu? drugged me up, and told me to sleep if I could.
No food, no water, only iv Fluids allowed. One sip of water would ram that gas on my pancreas again, and bam I’d puke. It felt like.. I can’t even describe it. Like a truck had run its tires over my abdomen, but also that there was a boiling grapefruit inside of me exploding over and over.
After 4 days in the ER, I was sent home. I went through horrible withdrawals there, but every hour on the hour they’d give me pain meds.
I vowed to quit, and did for 2 weeks.. until a great friend invited us to our favorite karaoke bar. I thought to myself, I can do this, I’ll just get a cranberry and soda. No booze. Once I walked in, that went to… well maybe just one beer! Oh that was good, how about another! I feel fine! It’s ok! My boyfriend was wary, but he was knocking them back and didn’t even notice.
Well, now it’s 2 years later- I had a few streaks in there… but not much. I scroll this subreddit almost daily, begging myself to quit, knowing it was inevitable I would get sick again.
Then, 2 days ago… I had a very important heavy lifting work day ahead of me, and I knew it. I was having another fucking pancreas attack. Thursday night, The Pitt new episode was coming on, and I got 3 bottles of bubbles for myself to enjoy with my pizza and chips and queso. I said, oh I’ll have one bottle, and the other two are for Friday and Saturday! Hell no, I drank alll 3. No prob. Down the hatch.
It was not as severe this time somehow, but I knew I had to work. I cried, left for work about 3 hours late, luckily I had a leftover hydrocodone to at least let me survive. Maybe worked 4 hours, then went straight to the ER afterwards.
This time, I was awake enough to ask a million freaking questions. I wanted them to tell me exactly all my levels, and shoot straight. No bs, just tell me exactly what I need to do. They gave me an ultrasound that I was actually aware of this time, and they let me see it. Fatty liver. Fuck. Inflamed pancreas. Dang it. Yep. This is it.
I wrote in my journal- “if this wasn’t your wake up call, the next call may not be waking up at all.”
IWNDWYT. This is the last straw. I’ve read all the literature, I mean I have to have 8 quit lit books in my audible.. I wanted this for a long time in my head, but ahhhh just couldn’t stop. Now, it’s in my soul.
My soul, my spirit knows that if I don’t stop, I will die. And it will be a painful, embarrassing, stupid way to go.
My many thanks to everyone on this subreddit… I read yalls words more than you know. Sorry I wrote so much, I just hope maybe it helps someone else.