I Almost
Choked to Death on My Own Vomit
By: Tim
R., Longview, Texas
A good friend of
mine called me one day and asked me to have lunch with him. About
half-way through lunch, he dropped a bomb on me. He informed me
that he had recently become aware of the fact that he was an
alcoholic, and he asked me to support him in his recovery.
At
first, I just laughed. I said, "You're crazy, man. You're
no more an alcoholic than I am." And I meant it, too. I
mean, this guy loved to party and all, but I had never seen him
when he wasn't able to hold his liquor. In fact, he was
the one who always drove us home from the bars.
Nevertheless,
I didn't make a big deal out of it. I agreed to go along with his
request, figuring it would be short-lived, and we would be back
drinking and partying together in no time. That didn't
happen, though. He stayed sober, and I kept on
drinking. Within a few months, we were running around with
different crowds, and we pretty much quit seeing each other. Then,
about a year after he got sober, I ran into him at someone's
birthday party. I asked him how things were going, and he said
that he was happier than he had ever been in his life. He asked me
how things were going for me. I lied and said that I was also very
happy.
My
friend called me up the next day and asked me to meet him for
lunch. I didn't really want to go, but I did. During lunch,
he told me some things about himself that I never knew. He
told me about how his life really was when he was
drinking and using drugs. He also told me what had happened to
convince him that he really did have a serious problem. His
story surprised me because I had always assumed that everything
about his life was good, if not perfect. Come to find out,
instead of having a good life, he had just been very adept at
putting on a good show so that other people, including me, would
think he did. I understood exactly what he was saying because
that's what I did a lot of the time.
Then
he told me why he had wanted to see me. He said that when we
had talked at the party, he knew that I was not telling the truth
when I said that I was happy. He said he could tell that I
was doing the same thing that he used to do--covering up my true
feelings. He said that when he got sober and started going to
AA meetings and started getting honest about his life and his
feelings, he found true happiness for the first time in his life. Then
he told me that if I ever wanted to explore options for getting
sober, he would gladly help me do that.
I
thanked him and told him that I would think about it. And I
did. I thought about it quite a bit. I mean, it's not that my life
was out of control or anything, but I was, in fact, having some
problems, and I was drinking a hell of a lot, especially on the
weekends.
Then
one night I got really blasted and woke up in the back seat of my
car about 5:00 o'clock in the morning. I had no idea where I was
parked except that it was on the side of an unfamiliar country
road. I also had no idea how I got there. It really scared me. It
wasn't the first time that I had blacked out, but it was the first
time that I didn't know where I was when I woke up.
Anyway,
a couple of days later, I called my friend and told him what had
happened. He again offered to take me to an AA meeting and help me
get sober. I again told him that I would think about it.
About
a month later, I was at a country-western nightclub with a date. I
drank beer after beer after beer. I started feeling sick, like I
was going to puke. I didn't want anyone to see me get sick so I
walked outside and around to the back of the building, out of
sight even to the parking lot. I bent over to puke, and when I
did, I lost my balance and fell onto the ground. I remember lying
there on my back and thinking that I would get up in just a
minute, as soon as my stomach stopped churning. The next thing I
knew, I woke up choking, unable to breathe. I rolled over onto my
stomach and pushed myself up onto my hands and knees. I still
couldn't draw any breath.
I
knew instinctively and without a doubt that I was going to die. I
even resigned myself to it. When I did that, I relaxed slightly.
At that moment, my throat opened enough to jar loose the blockage,
and I vomited hard. I gasped for air and took in a small amount,
but then I started choking again. This time, though, I was able to
cough. I gulped small bits of air between coughs and gags.
Finally,
my breathing normalized. I lay on the ground in a daze. I hate to
admit it, but one of my first thoughts was to wonder if anyone had
observed me and to hope beyond hope that no one had. After a few
moments, I sat upright. I was pretty much soaked with vomit from
head to toe. It was even in my hair. I looked at my watch and saw
that it was 4:00 AM.
I
stood up and peered around the corner of the building. It was dark
and very quiet. About six or eight cars remained scattered around
the parking lot. Mine was not one of them. I walked around to the
front of the building. Some of the exterior lights were on, but
the doors were locked, and the inside of the building was dark. I
realized that I was the only person on the premises.
I
found a payphone on the opposite front corner of the building. I
called my housemate and begged him to pick me up. Thank God he
did. He made me ride home in the back of his pickup truck. I was
glad to do it.
I
located my car the next afternoon. My date had found the spare key
under the floor mat and driven herself home at 1:00 AM. I tried to
explain and apologize, but she wouldn't talk to me. I never saw
her again.
I
called my sober friend the following day. He took me to my first
AA meeting that night. I gratefully took a desire chip at that
meeting and got an AA sponsor the next. I attended 112 meetings
during the next 90 days. My life got better. Then it got a lot
better. Gradually, it got very good. As I write this, I am exactly
three years and six days sober and straight.
I'm
so very grateful for my sobriety. I feel good today. I feel good
physically, and I feel good about myself. I have friends that I
can honestly say I love, and who I believe love me back. I have no
desire to drink alcohol or use drugs. I never even think about it.
What
I do think about from time to time is that day my friend took me
out to lunch and told me that he was an alcoholic and asked me to
support him in his recovery. I had no idea what that meant at the
time. I do now, though. He and I see each other a lot. We talk a
lot. Our conversations are very different today than they were
five years ago, when our strongest bond was our mutual affinity
for beer and pot and bars.
Today,
instead of just chatter about meaningless crap, my friend and I
really talk. We share "our experience, strength, and
hope" with each other. In about four months, I will serve as
the "best man" at his wedding. For
me, that just about says it all. Imagine: Me, a best man.
Like
I said, I'm so very grateful for my sobriety.
Peace.
Tim
R.
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