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A Carers Thought's

right from the start, you were a thief, you stole my heart

At quarter to 1 on Saturday morning, I had a phone call from my mom saying that my dad was being taken into hospital. Turns out he had fallen down the stairs, had a very big bump on his head, no memory and probably a fractured  cheek bone.
I got up straight away and went round as fast as I could, my mom was upset understandably but she’s a nurse so managed to keep quite calm. The paramedic was still with him while they waited for the ambulance.
It turned out he had been going up to bed while my mom stayed downstairs. He was carrying a bottle of wine, a bottle of whisky and a glass of wine. From the amount of wine down the wall next to the stairs we can tell he must have been at the top of the stairs when he slipped. Amazingly all of the stuff he was carrying was in one piece at the bottom of the stairs. I think this says enough about his priorities.
My mom heard thud thud thud so went out to see what had happened. He was lying at the bottom of the stairs with blood coming from the left side of his mouth where he had bit his tongue and the front right side of his head. His left cheek was damaged and he had a massive lump on the right side at the back of his head. He had also passed out. My mom managed to get him to the sofa and he passed out again. This is when she called the ambulance.
When I got there he was still very drunk, he couldn’t feel any of his injuries and kept constantly asking what had happened. The ambulance came after I had been there for about ten minutes and I followed them to the hospital. He was taken straight into a cubicle in a&e but wasn’t seen by a doctor for about three hours. He was starting to feel some pain in his cheek by then but nothing else. It was confirmed that he had fractured his cheekbone and he has to see a specialist this week to decide what to do. He will also have to see an eye specialist as they weren’t happy with the size of one of his pupils. They let him out at about 8am the next day. I had been home asleep for 1.5 hours when my mom rang to pick them up. I managed to get another 1.5 hours between dropping them off and going to work.
He still couldn’t remember anything from the night and was asking us the whole story over and over probably every 5 mins or so. He can be repetitive when he’s drunk but it was like a broken record and at times he looked really scared that he couldn’t remember, he would apologise, he would say he would give up drink, he kept trying to get us to take him home.
He has been an alcoholic for at least 2 years now probably a lot longer. He doesn’t see it like that and I’m not sure my mom does. He can’t go a day without drinking, he always prioritises buying drink over anything else, he eats next to nothing and every time I see him he is drunk. I think the thing that pushed him over the edge was when my mom lost weight. She went from a size 26 to a size 12, her whole personality changed and my dad was really scared of losing her. She wasn’t the same person he had married but they have been together since they were 14 so neither of them can imagine life without the other.
The trouble is he can’t see that the way he is behaving is pushing her further away.
He is very anti help and thinks that doctors /counsellors and anyone else along those lines are for other people, he doesn’t need them. My mom has finally managed to get him to the doctors and he is now being treated for anxiety. He is supposed to be attending counselling from next week but I don’t think he will stick at it. I can see from Simon how effective it can be but you have to be open, honest and want to help yourself. I don’t think my dad is ready for that yet but I know it could be just what he needs.
My mom also drinks daily and I don’t think this helps, if she really wants him to get better, she will have to give it up too or at least stop drinking in the house.
I hate knowing that he is killing himself with this and that there is nothing I can do about it. I know it’s not really his fault because it is an addiction but that doesn’t stop me getting angry with him. I really miss the funny, intelligent, interesting dad I used to have and I hope that one day he will be back with us.

He caused this accident himself and I seriously worry about what else we will have to go through before he tries to change. How many more early morning phone calls am I going to get? How many more days of work do I have to get through after 3 hours sleep because of him? How many more years of my life are going to be wasted worrying about him? How much longer can I carry on caring?



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