For someone who is supposed to be on a fluid restriction, I certainly manage to drink a lot. On Sunday morning, I awoke around the 10 am mark with the latest in a long line of Sunday morning hangovers and a familiar feeling of dread; not at how much money I'd spent (too much) or who I'd inadvertently managed to sleep with this time (still in my bed, knew who he was, tick, tick) but at how much fluid I had consumed during the previous night.
When I went back onto dialysis two years ago, my doctor came to see me during ward rounds. "Now Rosy, you will have to go back on a fluid and diet restriction," he said.
"Give it to me straight, Doc," I said, bravely, weak from pain but still somehow managing to look slim and pretty, "how much can I have?"
"I would say around...600 mls," he said cheerfully, before trotting off to tell the old lady in the bed opposite she was probably going to die. To give you some idea of scale, one can of coke is 330 mls. To expect someone to exist on just under two coke cans worth of fluid a day is ludicrous and of course, my initial and major concern was: how am I going to get drunk?
In the early days, I was very good at restricting my fluid. I sucked ice cubes. I took tiny sips. I forwent drinks at restaurants. Yet still the problem persisted: how was I going to consume enough alcohol to become inebriated without, y'know, actually consuming alcohol? It was a senior nurse at hospital who gave me the answer: in a startling display of what I am sure was flagrant disregard for NHS policy, she advised me...to drink shots. Lots of them.
In theory, this was an excellent plan. Shots come in roughly 35 ml measures so there was plenty of scope for mass consumption. The rub, however, is that I am a pussy shot drinker. I can just about handle a tequila at the end of the night when I am too drunk to notice what I am putting in my mouth, let alone taste it (I'll let you insert your own joke here). Sambucca is a no-go - I can't bear it - and Aftershock gave me the worst hangover I have ever endured after a memorable night at the Oxford/Cambridge Boat Race after party. This left me with a rather meagre choice of Apple Sourz or Peach Schnapps, neither of which have the highest alcohol content and both of which make you sound like a gimp when you order them from the bar. To get drunk on Apple Sourz shots takes dedication - and, brother, I was dedicated.
As time went on, I began to relax and drinks - proper full glass alcoholic drinks - began to creep into my night-out repertoire. I found that the less I ate, the more I could drink in addition to the added benefits drinking on an empty stomach has. If I went out on Saturday night, I only had Sunday to endure before getting the excess fluid sucked off at Monday dialysis, and neither my sofa nor the Dominos delivery guy cared that I looked like a over-inflated beach-ball. I would buy a bottle of Apple Sourz with the intention of downing a few shots just to get me started before we went out. This I did several times, all the while feeling very virtuous, until I realised I was consuming the whole bottle. For every disgusting, teeth-rotting, lurid green shots I had been sinking with a grimace I could have had at least two strong vodka and cokes. It was around this time that I said bollocks to it, and gave up being good.
This disease takes an awful lot away from you but I regard my sole Saturday night out as sacrosanct; I don't drink to excess, but I don't limit myself either. I hate that the effects are so obvious the next day and of course I long for the days when I can have a drink simply because I'm thirsty and think nothing of it. When it comes to a night out, however, I shall just have to live with the guilt, as well as the hangover.
When I went back onto dialysis two years ago, my doctor came to see me during ward rounds. "Now Rosy, you will have to go back on a fluid and diet restriction," he said.
"Give it to me straight, Doc," I said, bravely, weak from pain but still somehow managing to look slim and pretty, "how much can I have?"
"I would say around...600 mls," he said cheerfully, before trotting off to tell the old lady in the bed opposite she was probably going to die. To give you some idea of scale, one can of coke is 330 mls. To expect someone to exist on just under two coke cans worth of fluid a day is ludicrous and of course, my initial and major concern was: how am I going to get drunk?
In the early days, I was very good at restricting my fluid. I sucked ice cubes. I took tiny sips. I forwent drinks at restaurants. Yet still the problem persisted: how was I going to consume enough alcohol to become inebriated without, y'know, actually consuming alcohol? It was a senior nurse at hospital who gave me the answer: in a startling display of what I am sure was flagrant disregard for NHS policy, she advised me...to drink shots. Lots of them.
In theory, this was an excellent plan. Shots come in roughly 35 ml measures so there was plenty of scope for mass consumption. The rub, however, is that I am a pussy shot drinker. I can just about handle a tequila at the end of the night when I am too drunk to notice what I am putting in my mouth, let alone taste it (I'll let you insert your own joke here). Sambucca is a no-go - I can't bear it - and Aftershock gave me the worst hangover I have ever endured after a memorable night at the Oxford/Cambridge Boat Race after party. This left me with a rather meagre choice of Apple Sourz or Peach Schnapps, neither of which have the highest alcohol content and both of which make you sound like a gimp when you order them from the bar. To get drunk on Apple Sourz shots takes dedication - and, brother, I was dedicated.
As time went on, I began to relax and drinks - proper full glass alcoholic drinks - began to creep into my night-out repertoire. I found that the less I ate, the more I could drink in addition to the added benefits drinking on an empty stomach has. If I went out on Saturday night, I only had Sunday to endure before getting the excess fluid sucked off at Monday dialysis, and neither my sofa nor the Dominos delivery guy cared that I looked like a over-inflated beach-ball. I would buy a bottle of Apple Sourz with the intention of downing a few shots just to get me started before we went out. This I did several times, all the while feeling very virtuous, until I realised I was consuming the whole bottle. For every disgusting, teeth-rotting, lurid green shots I had been sinking with a grimace I could have had at least two strong vodka and cokes. It was around this time that I said bollocks to it, and gave up being good.
This disease takes an awful lot away from you but I regard my sole Saturday night out as sacrosanct; I don't drink to excess, but I don't limit myself either. I hate that the effects are so obvious the next day and of course I long for the days when I can have a drink simply because I'm thirsty and think nothing of it. When it comes to a night out, however, I shall just have to live with the guilt, as well as the hangover.
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| Putting theory into practice |
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