It is really the only way to describe it. It is an anaesthetic for the mind, a relaxer of the muscles and the thief of all ambition.
I went out for a drink the other day and although I didn’t have that much, the next day I felt as if I had woken with a vice clamped over my head, a tongue of dry leather and stomach ache to match. I couldn’t move for fear of falling over and I was already laying down. After a fitful attempt at sleeping I got up, hunted down some paracetamol, took a slug of water and went back to bed. Finally my persistence paid off and I was asleep again. Wasting the day away in my bed.
I am usually an early riser and keen to do things, get moving so I can get the blood pumping and then kick-start the old grey matter with a cup of Yorkshire Gold.
Not so on that day.
I eventually rose and literally loafed about the house. Amazingly I made my self some relatively healthy convenience food (usually it’s a sugary carb overload, but at least I resisted that!) and the rest of the day was spent with water, tea, fruit and a huge sense that I had let myself down.
You see, am I useless the day after a drink. It robs me of all ambition and desire to achieve. It makes writing impossible, leaving the house for errands or exercise unheard of and simple tasks like tidying up may as well resemble a mathematical task asked by NASA. All I want to do is lounge around and do nothing, regardless of whether I have drunk too much or just enough the night before. As the old saying goes “one’s not enough and two is too many”. I go out to drink so infrequently I am very out of practise. My days of being able to drink all day and all night are long gone for sure, I just wish I wasn’t so magnificently crap at it nowadays, but in my heart of hearts, I am glad because it helps to keep me on the straight and narrow which is why I am looking forward to my post operative enforced lifestyle.
At the moment, I usually manage about three weeks between visits to the pub and when I go out, I tend to have a bit of a splurge. Not crazy drunk but obviously enough to have me feeling all kinds of dreadful the following morning. Now though, post operative there will be no lager or cider because the bubbles don’t work well with the small banana shaped pouch of a stomach. I am not a beer drinker, not a wine fan and am not an international man of mystery so drinking Cognac or Whiskey really isn’t my thing. This limits my choices and short of drinking a banana daiquiri I imagine I will be less inclined to drink anything at all thus going out to the pub will become a moot point.
As I wrote the other day, I hope to be having the surgery in mid March and am awaiting a firm date to be scheduled. This means my 800 calorie a day diet starts in the last week of February which is in about 12 days time. It hasn’t really sunk in yet how much my entire lifestyle will change in those three weeks let alone after the surgery itself. Sure I am fully aware of the impact it will have on my diet and I am aware that my food intake will change massively, it is just weird to think that I will no longer be able to fulfil those drink cravings that will no doubt be absolutely impossible to sate. I will no longer be able to drink pints as there will be no capacity to do so and as I said, the bubbles will make for a pretty unpleasant trapped wind experience.
Not drinking doesn’t really bother me, it’s just weird to think that something that has been a huge part of my life will no longer be able to take any part in my new role of Bariatric Patient. But I am looking forward to it. There is no feeling like the one you have when you haven’t had a drink for a few weeks. It makes you feel clean and vibrant and the energy makes you feel vital, even at my age. So I know I won’t miss the drinking but I am sure I will miss the notion of it. Life will become much cheaper for example, a day out at the football will now no longer require the settling of bar tabs and taxi fairs but simply some transport and a ticket to the game, even the half time pie won’t be a problem as I won’t be eating!
So it is with no sadness that I will be bidding the demon drink goodbye and I am glad to have the side effect of a smaller stomach not allowing me to drink all that lovely cider, because without it I honestly think I would have been under its spell for many years to come.
Just don’t get trapped in the kitchen with me at a party 😉
Stay out of the fridge.