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Grapevine : August 2011
years later, I missed a concrete step and broke my left ankle. I was drunk, of course, and told everyone that our country was being invaded because two "white Russians" had pushed me down the steps. Before my ankle was even out of the cast, I again went airborne down a flight of steps, breaking my left leg in three places and crushing my knee. I awoke with a cast from the tips of my toes to my groin. That took me off my feet for quite some time and culminated with knee replace- ment surgery. I was off my feet, sure, but there was nothing wrong with my beer and vodka lifting arm. As time went on, my marriage got drunker and drunk- er. My husband and I were both in seriously failing health. I had to be hospitalized for transfusions (ten in three months), and underwent every test known to humanity. My husband was by my side, and drunk, when he died of sudden heart failure on Easter Sunday, 2010. I had passed out in my chair. When I woke up and tried to wake him from the couch at 4:30 a.m., he had already started to turn cold. I was in a deep state of shock. Any pain would be quickly drowned out with vodka, drinking until I passed out and waking only to drink enough to pass out again. I would not step out- side of our house after the funeral. When no one would bring me booze anymore, I called the beverage cen- ter. They would deliver, they said, as long as I placed a food order. My son couldn't figure out how I was getting my booze, until he came over and opened my refrigerator door to find stacks and stacks of uneaten subs. For some reason, I woke up one day and called my son. "Dustin," I said. "I want help. I don't want to die drunk and dirty." I was admitted to a detox that day, so malnourished, the hospital said, that I would have died if I tried to stop on my own. When I was first sober, I was elated. People kept warning me of gloom and doom to come, that bad things were going to happen in my life. Well, I am a woman who nearly drank herself to death. A miracle from God restored my health in three months and I've found a life that is different from the one I started on that innocent day, sitting on the bar- stool with my brother Herman at the "beer joint." Come what may---doom, gloom or otherwise---I plan to live each day on life's terms, one day at a time, and thank my Higher Power for every second. Anonymous After 18 years of marriage, my husband was fed up with my drinking, lying and cheating. aagrapevine.org 37