My husband has a rare and aggressive brain tumour - he was given 12 months to live four years ago. Two brain surgeries, radio and multiple rounds of chemo later, he’s now drinking himself into oblivion. A local alcohol charity recently told him not to worry about his drinking as he’s terminal. This week we had to have two ambulances because he was so drunk he smashed his head open and paramedics thought he’d damaged his spine. Last time I called an ambulance, a month ago, it was because I thought he’d had a brain haemorrhage, days later he admitted he was just very drunk.
He’s told his parents that the most recent hospitilisation was because he and I were celebrating - not the case - and now they blame me for his drinking. I was already the sole bread winner, and then I lost my career because of my caring responsibilities. I’m in my late thirties and am likely to lose my house in the new year too. I have tried to shock him out of it but his response is simply that the only thing which will stop him drinking is death. Because he only drinks and watches TV he staggers round the house even when sober because his muscles have wasted away. He doesn’t lift a finger to help, just causes chaos, again, even when sober.
I am so incredibly angry with him. There is no cancer-related need for him to be in this condition. He doesn’t live, just survives, a conversation we’ve had time after time after time. The only thing the councillor says is he’ll need to hit rock bottom. If this isn’t it I don’t know what is.
Thanks for letting me get this off my chest.