Head in the Sand

I'm a 47 year old man who has led for a lack of a better description a rock and roll life style and I"m paying for it now. I don't know what my intention for writing this blog is, maybe cathartic, maybe encouraging someone else to seek help before they begin walking down the road I'm currently on or possibly I'm just being self indulgent. For whatever reason, here I go.

About 10 years ago I went to see my PCP, we had a regular check up with the usual chit chat regarding food wine and travel, three of my favorite things. Wine and it's use as a self medication substance as well its distant cousins bourbon, gin and whatever alcoholic beverage might be handy. My life was a vicious circle and I was happy with it, get up, work, drink, sleep and or pass out depending on the amount of alcohol that I was able to choke down that day. A few days after that initial physical my Doc called letting me know there was a problem with my blood tests, come on back and lets do it again. He had slyly set me up with a barrage of blood tests focusing on liver function, viral loads, biliruben and blood cell counts.

Sitting at my make shift desk of a folding table, surrounded by half smoken cigarette butts and half finished bottles of wine and beer, my phone rang. I'm sure I was drinking something, probably half in the bag with nearly a bottle of Rhone in my belly. It was Doc C... "how you doing...", "good...", "I have some bad news...", "yeah....", "You have hepatitus C...".

I wish I could say I lost my breath or my head started spinning or even that I feinted. Nothing happened, he might as well have told me me I had a hang nail, it would of carried more weight.

After explaining to me that Hep C was a blood borne illness that causes inflammation of the liver among other things I took a minute to digest any repercussions this illness might have and replied "Can I still drink?"
"You shouldn't, but a sip here and there probably won't hurt you at this stage of the game."
I thanked him, quietly hung up the phone, finished another bottle of wine, smoked a cigarette and buried my head in the sand for the next ten years.