I am at the halfway point in my dance of sobriety: 4.5 months down and 4.5 months to go. I haven’t been perfect. I’ve had four glasses of wine, two real beers, and a sip of whatever Jason’s signature cocktail at his wedding was. Oh, I also had a sip of an amaretto sour at Karen’s wedding (by sip I do mean one sip).


I am actually permitted to have a real glass of wine or a beer now and again. I use that allowance to drink as much NA beer as I want. This may be derailing the weight loss benefit and perhaps I might give up this crutch for other reasons – why drink expensive water? Still, after you move couches, get home from a long day at work, whatever - it can be really nice to have a beer, loaded or not. It’s a psychological signal to your body that “fight or flight” time is over for now.


As far as the medication goes, monthly blood tests say my liver is fine. The memory loss side effect is still there. At times I can’t recall simple things like a person’s name I’ve known for years, I cover ok but it’s frustrating and I can feel like a stroke victim. Imagine having this side effect with an academic overload of graduate classes. I am coping ok.


The more common side effects, such as nausea and joint pain, are minimal so I haven’t had to change to the medication that turns you orange. I wouldn’t want to be orange for 4.5 months. I’d feel like I was trapped in a Gator Aid commercial. My nurse practitioner was telling me that the other stuff stains your clothing like rusty water; even your tears are orange.


My nurse practitioner is a trip. I have to schedule extra time to listen to his stories. He’s one of those people who like to talk to me about nothing in particular. I’ve heard long stories about bow hunting, river otters, pool parties with the O’Fallon police department, driving drunk, nursing school testing practices, prison healthcare, his marriage, his cousins, his education, his favorite authors, etc. He calls me “teach”. He delayed my last voyage to Wisconsin by a half an hour, but I feel it’s best to be on good terms with people who weigh, bleed and medicate you.