Is he dead?

There was a comment on the Definition of End-Stage post asking me if Riley were dead yet. It reminded me of a friend who used to call about once a week and ask, “Is he dead?” After answering her with a resounding NO! we could continue to discuss how Riley was doing.

To answer the commenter: No he is not dead yet. Most of the time I think he truly is immortal and may never be dead.

Riley is very much alive, well, sort of. It depends on your definition of ALIVE. Riley is in hospice for end-stage liver failure. He can no longer walk and is in a wheel chair 24/7. He is able to shuffle himself to the toilet by taking three or four short steps to the toilet by using a walker. However, he is unable to tend to his toileting needs on his own. He has no control of his bowel or bladder, so going to the toilet is something that is scheduled into his day in hopes that his body will get the timing message. So far, it works on most days.

There are no visitors except for a volunteer who spends a couple hours every other week engaging him in conversation. They talk about the Navy and the shipyard. They discuss the news. They do a lot of reminiscing about their childhood days. Riley tells him that his health is improving.

The only other person Riley communicates with is his brother. They talk on the phone about once a week. Their conversations focus on the progress made in repairing his brother’s home which recently caught fire and destroyed the garage and part of the kitchen. News is always on the topic list. It’s usually a fairly short conversation.

Riley used to love to cook, but can no longer accomplish anything more than a PB&J or a bowl of cereal. I try to offer him choices of food, but for the most part, his meals consist of just what I decide to cook for him. That isn’t so bad since I like to cook fresh food in a home-cooked style. No Hamburger Helper on his menu – even though he loves it and would have it every night if I would cook it. Instead I make him casseroles that resemble the Hamburger Helper varieties. He gets dessert every night and sometimes after lunch. We don’t have a lot of RULES about eating, sometimes it’s breakfast for dinner or dinner for lunch. Whatever works at that moment for everyone. I once asked him to make me a list of dinners he wanted that week. But, he could not come up with anything.

A day in the life of Riley consists of watching TV, sleeping and eating. He’s usually alone in his room. Encouragement to watch TV in the living room doesn’t seem to work. He reminds me of Greta Garbo (or whoever the actress was) with the back of her hand on her forehand, whining “I want to be alone.”

Don’t let all that quietness fool you. He is a difficult patient. He is controlling, demanding, narcissistic, passive aggressive and argumentative. He clearly states over and over “I want what I want when I want it and I expect everyone to give me what I want.” When asked why he thinks everyone should just do as he says, he is quick to tell you that he is 75 years old and because he’s lived that long he should have what he wants when he wants it. Hmmm… I wonder what I’ve earned by being 67?

When Riley was drinking he was a charmer until the drinking became disgusting and people pulled away from him. He’s had several relationships with good, loving women. But the women always left him when he refused to be monogamous and commit to a firm relationship. He once asked me, in the heat of drinking a handle of vodka, to find him a girlfriend. I asked what he was going to bring to the romantic relationship table. His response was that he has money and a big d..k. So I told him I’d like to know where this money was, because the last time I looked he was spending about $1,000 on booze. Was he going to trade the booze for a woman? I would definitely be down with that – I’d start the search right then. NO – he responded. I also told him that women want more out of a relationship than money and sex no matter how large the appendage. He disagreed and informed me that it had worked for him in the past and he saw no reason for it to work for him then. Well… there was a reason why I was the only one willing to take him in. I’m just saying.

So today, Riley is alone, sober and miserable. He says he doesn’t want to die, but is coming to realize that it’s too late. Still, he wants to be drunk.  If I were in his situation, maybe I’d want to be drunk as well. I would give him some metered alcohol, but he becomes more vocally demanding when he has alcohol. I don’t need to put myself through that.

There is no longer any logicality to his conversations. Arguments just run in circles and never end. He confuses days, times, people. He tries to schedule everything so that he can write it down and refer to his notes when he can’t remember.

Riley is a prime example of what happens when you so abuse your body until it can no longer be fixed. His multiple detox events have left him weaker with each one. Death is climbing the stairs to the front door but has not yet reached the doorknob.  Death is taking its time. It’s like, Death wants him to suffer before giving him peace. Maybe, that’s the payback for all the peripheral damage that has been left in the wake of his alcoholic path.

If you are an alcoholic and are still drinking, ask yourself if you would want to be in Riley’s position. If not, get help and stop drinking for good. It’s the only way to be in a life you hate living. If you are a family member and believe you will end up caretaking the alcoholic, this is one scenario that you may look forward to in the future.

Your choice, your life.