Sunday, 23 October 2016

Drunken Jeans

My friends Kay and Walter came over last night. I haven't seen them in quite a while; they have very busy lives and seem to be working non-stop these days. It was good to have them over. As soon as they arrived, Kay reminded me that she didn't drink while Walter reminded me that he did, that he hadn't for a while, and that he would really like some wine. I pointed him to the wine rack where he picked a nice Riesling.

That was the beginning of a big night, at least for me and Walter. I felt sorry for Kay that she had to sit through it, but she assured me she was fine, and that Walter rarely had nights like this.

We started with a couple or three bottles of wine between the two of us. Then we got to talking about Cuba, so we took out the last of my Cuban White Rum and polished it off, served straight over ice. Then I mentioned I had made my own batch of beer, so of course we had to do tasting, just one of my large bottles, the ones which serve two. When that ran out, I mentioned that I had this really nice Irish Whiskey called "Writer's Tears", which of course could not be left out of the evening.

Along the way we had a terrific lasagna dinner, one of my favourite meals to make. We ate, we drank. We drank, we ate. Then, all of a sudden, it was 11:00 PM. Both Walter and I were fading under the efforts of our consumption, neither of us worthy of sobriety. I was drunk. I admit it. It happens every once in a while. Not too often, not on a regular basis.

I learned something last night. Getting dressed when you are paralyzed from the chest down can be a real challenge. Getting undressed while inebriated and paralyzed from the chest down is a near impossibility. I have enough trouble sitting up while sober. It would appear that I cannot sit up at all while drunk. Getting my jeans past my knees was difficult. Getting them over my feet and off was impossible, at least right then. So I just fell asleep, a failed soldier collapsing on the battlefield of insobriety, jeans somewhere halfway off, shirt and socks still on.

I awoke at 7:00 AM and realized my state of semi-dress. By this time I had regained sufficient coordination to remove my pants and shirt. Compression socks yet defeated me, so they stayed on and remain with me still. I returned to near passed out slumber, fitfully sleeping on and off for the next several hours. Finally, under pressure of someone coming over for coffee, I managed to recover at about 2:00 PM today.

What did I learn from this exercise? Thankfully, absolutely nothing. I am, and have for a long time been, fully aware of what alcohol does to my coordination. I am, and have been for some time now, fully aware of what ALS is doing to my coordination. My semi-robed state last night was no surprise to me. What is perhaps a surprise was my complete continence last night, and complete lack of jug accidents. I am not sure why, but being sober does not help my aim and control, while being drunk does not seem to hurt it. Perhaps that is a lesson. I don't know.

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