Friday, October 26, 2012

Reluctantly Reformed Boozehound

Over the course of this little adventure I'm on, I have filled 9 prescriptions at the pharmacy, and picked up 8 over-the-counter drugs.  That's a grand total of... wait a sec... 17 drugs that have made their way through my body and one time or another over the last two months.  All of the prescription drugs, and one of the over-the-counter drugs come with the warning against drinking alcoholic beverages or operating heavy machinery.  The heaviest machinery I have operated is the TV remote (I've left my excavator in the driveway) and, because I am a rule follower, I have not consumed any alcoholic beverages, besides a half a weak margarita and a little sangria. 

I am off most of those drugs now, but still on two with the alcohol warning.  I am driving my car again (never under the influence of anything remotely sedating; I'm no dumb dumb) but I have not cracked open a bottle of chardonnay. 

The other night, I ventured out to a friend's house and she poured me a half glass of wine.  I sipped at it, drank about ten swallows, and I was drunk.  Not falling-down drunk, but enough that I asked instead for fizzy water, and left the rest of the wine. 

This is a big disappointment to me.  There is nothing I love more than going out for a drink or two with some girlfriends, or opening a couple of bottles at home with friends, or just having a quiet glass of wine at home with dinner.  Or having several cocktails and glasses of champagne and not being able to walk a straight line to the passenger seat of the car of the person driving me home. 

Now, it seems, in addition to the physical therapy, the regular therapy, the acupuncture and the doctor's appointments, I'm going to have to build up my tolerance for alcohol all over again!  I wasn't the best drinker in the first place:  If I have a glass of wine with dinner, or any time before Leila goes to bed, the evening just takes FOREVER, and all of my parenting duties are extra annoying.  I cannot start at 4 in the afternoon like some people.  Also, if I am "bad" and have a glass of wine with lunch, which I love to do, I can count on being less than productive for the rest of the afternoon.  I'm also that girl who, on the rare occasion that I actually get drunk, I walk around saying, "I'm so drunk!  I'm having so much fun!  Are you having fun? I'm so drunk!"  Just adorable.

So what to do?  I cannot be the mom that goes out with the girls and has one glass of wine and has to be carried out of the place.  And I don't want to be the mom that just drinks sparkling water or virgin daiquiris.  What am I, Mormon?  So I'm going to have to train.  A few sips at a time.  At home, before I swallow the drugs, and after Leila goes to bed, and without getting that excavator out of the driveway.  Work work work.

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