I caused all of this. My cancer is my own creation, a consequence of years of smoking cigarettes and working in smoke-filled bars, nightclubs, and restaurants. Hell, I used to request to work the smoking section of restaurants when I was a young server, because the smokers tended to drink more booze and run up larger tabs.
Alcohol is another major risk factor associated with my type of cancer. I’ve had alcohol nearly every day since I was 21. I can probably count on two hands the number of days that I abstained. It’s been my sleep crutch ever since I first discovered its sedative effects. (I know, it’s not the same as sleep, save your comments.) It used to take me hours to fall asleep, but with booze I could reliably get unconscious on a regular time table.
Plus, I liked it a lot. I was good at drinking.
I was already cutting back on my daily consumption when I got the news. Within two nights of my diagnosis, I stopped drinking alcohol completely.
It was both easier and more difficult than I ever thought.
My body handled it well — no shakes, tremors, or any other physical effects. Mentally, I struggled to fill in the time usually allocated to drinking. I missed the ritual of making a cocktail or opening a bottle of wine. I miss sharing a nice bottle of wine with Erin. (She has stopped drinking as well.) For nearly 14 years, I have made a decent living in the alcohol business. Will I still be able to make a living in the alcohol business once this is over? Will I even care about wine after all this?
In the end, I chose to make the change, to give myself the best odds at beating my cancer. Looking at it through that lens made it easier to stop.
I’ve been in a fairly shitty mood since November 19th, the last day I had a drink. Is it because I have a cancerous tumor rapidly growing in my throat, causing pain all day, every day? Or are my hormones resetting themselves to a new normal? It’s probably both, if I’m being honest. Every day feels like trudging uphill through a foot of snow, and the peak never seems to get closer.
I still have problems falling asleep. My anxiety is running rampant without the alcohol to slow it down.
I often wonder if I’ll have a drink if/when I beat this cancer. I’ll certainly have earned it.