Saturday, February 13, 2010
My scale laughed at me this morning! Is it not bad enough that I've already had a bad diet week? I know I deserved it, I'm the one who's responsible for the 3 lbs gained! I just can't believe I let myself fall that far off the wagon! You see friends, not only do I have a love of food, but I also have a love for alcohol. I really thought I had them both under control (eating right is easy when the alcohol stays out of the picture).
It's been almost three weeks since it started. It was because of one glass of wine! Can you imagine that? One glass of wine!
Let me take you back to three years ago, when I developed a dependency to that almighty glass of wine.
My husband was in the hospital for what was supposed to be only three to five days, but stayed for four full months. His biggest concern at home was for our business (we own a convenience store and gas bar). So the deal was, Bev, you look after our business and I'll concentrate on getting better. Deal? Okay.
Now. Our store hours are from 6:30a.m. to 11p.m., and there are two people required (sometimes three) per shift. My husband, 'Sweety', and I would split the day, each working with one of our two employees. We had just bought the business three years before and started without any help, but it had been growing to the point where we were able to hire two people full time.
Summers are very busy for us and he got sick on the first day in May. For the first week he was in a local hospital about 20 min. away. I worked 12 hour days and visited him every evening, leaving our 15-year-old daughter helping out at the store.
After a week in the hospital, Sweety's condition was not getting better. He couldn't eat, so doctors said he had to have a feeding tube, which was a procedure they couldn't do at that hospital. So he was shipped to another hospital an hour away.
My days kept getting longer and longer, busier and busier. Into June, I realized I would need more help. Our daughter took a shift, which allowed me more time to keep up with the paperwork and to visit the hospital (now an hour-and-a-half away). My days were now split between work and the hospital. I hardly slept because I went to bed worrying for my husband. I tried to keep positive, made myself believe that he would get better and come home.
But, he kept getting worse, and by the third week of July, he was in the intensive care unit. The doctors were conferring with a group of specialists at a hospital near the university in Montreal (another two hours away). It was determined that he was to undergo emergency surgery, and that it would be done in Montreal as soon as the arrangements could be made.
By this time, I had taken to having a glass of wine before bed every night. It helped calm me enough to sleep. At times I'd have more than one glass, telling myself I just wanted a good nights sleep.
After suffering an infection from his procedure, Sweety had to have another operation. Things were not looking good.
I was juggling work, banking, payroll, orders and deliveries, not to mention the three plus hours (one way) visiting the hospital. I would have thrown in the towel long before if it wasn't for Sweety and his constant reminder of the promises we made to one another. I didn't want him worrying about the business, because his work was very important to him. We had taken a business that was on the verge of bankruptcy, and brought it back better that ever. But after only three years, it was still fragile, still our baby, and I knew he was worried about not being there to help.
On the day before Sweety was due home, we had a storm run through our small town. High winds took down trees and power lines. Without power, I closed the store for the remainder of the day to deal with the damages. My brother-in-law was on home dialysis, and needed to be hooked up to a machine overnight. He lived with his parents and without hydro, he wouldn't be able to have his treatment. So I brought them our generator and extra gasoline, and they were able to hook up and get through the night. I worked through the evening, by candlelight, getting my house cleaned and ready for my patient to come home.
Through everything, I kept my chin up and dealt with one thing at a time as they come. I had numerous problems with my car, (even my radio stopped working) and had my sister begging me to use hers after my wheel came off on the highway after one of my visits to the hospital. I laughed and joked about not knowing which part would be next if I didn't keep driving it. I had to stay positive or I would go crazy. At night I would go home and calm myself with my glass or two of wine, although by this time it could have been beer or any other form of alcohol.
Sweety finally came home on Sept. 1st. Some of the roads were still closed, blocked by downed trees and road crews, but we were finally home! Sweety was weak and extremely thin (down 70 lbs), so his recovery would be a long one. I was his nurse, changing bandages and draining bags and taking weekly trips to the local hospital to pull tubes and fillers out (I don't remember all the medical terms) and to see how well he was healing.
Still I continued to have my 'sedative' after work at the end of the day.
Sweety went back to work in January 2007. I had my husband and my life back.
It eased my workload...but still I drank. I quit smoking a year later... but still, I drank. I gained 40 lbs in the next year... and then... I finally woke up. I realized I had a dependency. I stopped... started... stopped etc. I decided to cut back, and tried every second night. But that didn't last long. That's when I started Sparks. I followed my diet, because I wanted to lose weight. I spent a lot of time on the computer and away from the alcohol. I went straight to bed after work to avoid sitting up drinking. It was working too, but after three months, I seemed to have lost focus. It started with a glass of wine. Three weeks ago. Yesterday it was a whole bottle. Today...well...today is not over. But I'm back to computer. Back to my diet. And tonight it will be to bed right after work.
You see, I got together with a group of people yesterday afternoon (after the bottle of wine), and was reminded that the most important, and sometimes hardest part of falling, is getting back up again.