Truth be Told, my brother is why I became a Social Worker

I probably shouldn't be doing this, but I'm going to share a little secret.....  my brother is an alcoholic.  Now, I've known this for years, but in a very sporadic and distance sense.  I've been around him when he's drunk and quite frankly, I don't like him much (i.e. at all) when he's drunk.  As with most drunks, he is a complete jerk when he has had too much to drink.  Much as I love him, I can still share that.  Having said all that, I've seen a completely new side to him that makes me weep in equal parts frustration and love.

He had knee replacement surgery last Friday.  Apparently the night before, he got completely drunk.  Why anyone would preform surgery on a man with such an alcohol problem is beyond me.... I can only hope it was done because they didn't know the extent of his problem.

I visited with him on Saturday and it quite literally, scared the crap out of me.  Looking at him reminded me of the videos you see of starving, emaciated people who have eaten next to nil for several months. He frequently fell into a fitful sleep while talking and was incoherent for most of the day.  Later that night he pulled out his IV, got up and promptly fell down.  I'm sure he had every intention of locating a cigarette because not only is he addicted to his beer, he is addicted to his cigarettes.

As a result of this behavior, he was moved to a more secure room with 24 hour supervision.  Now when I was told that, I really didn't believe that -- who is going to spend the money on that?  Well, apparently his insurance, because I spent the day with him today and the nurse was in there ALL the time and only left when she was relieved by another nurse or when she was assured that I would not leave the room.

As a result of his alcohol and tobacco withdrawal, here are some of the conversations we have had over the past few days....

• Him to me "Where's Zach, he was here with you this morning."  "No Pascal, Zach is in school today."
• Him to me "What are you doing for Memorial Day?" "I don't know Pascal, Memorial Day is months away, Halloween is the next 'Holiday'"
• Him to me "I need my sunglasses, find my sunglasses"  "Here they are Pascal, in your suitcase"  "Okay...  leave them there, I don't need them now."
• Him to me "I know Mom's schedule on Sundays, she'll be home tomorrow between church and lunch."  "Pascal, tomorrow's not Sunday."

He alternately cursed me, flipped me off and smiled at me.  It was quite an adventure and I have a whole new appreciation for anyone who has to deal with this on a daily basis.  I hope and pray that his road to recovery is an easy one.  In reality, it will be bumpy and it will be bumpy by his own choosing.

 Truth be told, and as sad as it may be to say.....I'm glad I work with abused and neglected children and not alcoholics.