Hopping Off The Wagon - On Purpose - And Christmas Arrangements

My stash of prescription pills of disulfiram tablets ran out a week last Friday.


Disulfiram is the drug that "encourages" me not to drink alcohol.


What did I do?  Straight down the offy to celebrate being off the pills and free to have a drink?  No, I didn't - I did the same as I've done for the last nine weeks.  I went about life and didn't drink the sauce.  And I was pretty bloody chuffed too!  Yay me.  I did really, really fancy a beer though, mainly because I like drinking beer!  Sounds obvious, but it's true.


So my last disulfiram was on Friday 2 December.  Since then I HAVE drunk alcohol, on one day.  I wanted to see if I could stop again once I'd started, and I did.  Yay me, again.


I won't go back to the pills until after Christmas.  I like beer, I like Christmas, and I really like Beer At Christmas.  The best way for me to enjoy Christmas Day itself (without Sam around) is home, alone, cooking a way-too-big dinner, watching telly, and sinking into a lager-soaked fug.



On the subject of Sam and Christmas, he'll be with the ex again.  And that is entirely my decision.  I figure that, right now, Sam will be better enjoying the magic of Christmas in a large family atmosphere than we would here.  Of course, I would like Sam to be here, and we'd have an absolute blast, but we will have our Christmas Days in the future.  I emailed the ex to tell her that I was happy for this, and when I next saw her when I was collecting Sam from school she was nearly crying asking me "Are you sure?" etc.


Sam and me will be together from "maybe" 28 or 29 December until teatime on 3 January, the day before school starts again.  It's already shaping up to be a bloomin' brilliant time.  As well as Santa's delayed delivery we're going up to Lincolnshire for the traditional family cards night (see next chapter), a trip to pick up Old Bob from Stansted airport (we'll go a couple of hours early to so some plane spotting), and banger racing including three-wheelers on New Year's Day.


Our family, along with many others I expect, has a tradition of gathering at Christmas for a fun evening of card games - in our case the game of choice is Newmarket.  This year it will be possible for Sam and me to attend together for the first time, and I can't wait!  We're going to cook a ham to contribute to the bring and buy supper.  I hope Sam can start saving memories of these evenings, the way I have (and I'm sure, all the rest of the family).


I first remember playing Newmarket at my Uncle Barry and Auntie Val's house in Lincoln.  A huge house that was previously a guest house, they had elderly relatives living "upstairs", there was always a mahoosive table full of food to pick at, and they had two sons, my nephews Gary and Glen.  These two boys were five or six years older and on a pedestal for me (my first pair of football boots were Glen's hand-me-downs, and were three sizes too big).  I remember knocking back Schloer and thinking I was very grown up while we played cards.

Newmarket was always played in the kitchen at Mum & Dad's house when I was young.  Dad and other older males would occupy the living room and watch Morecambe & Wise, and The Bridge Over The River Kwai or The Great Escape while we made a racket in the kitchen.  One year (when the song "Grandad" was in the charts) we had just had a light fitting put in that you could lower or raise as required.  Of course, for a card game, the light was pulled down low!  I most remember my Auntie Pam going on an epic losing streak, whereas my Grandad was winning everything.  Auntie Pam kept on singing "Grandad, Grandad, we hate you...." then blowing raspberries and flicking a V-sign at Grandad!

I was still on the Schloer.

I can also remember the table being set up in the living room one year, and Dad was relegated to the bedroom to watch telly on his black and white portable!  The card games always petered out at maybe ten o'clock, as the younger players were past bedtimes, even though it Was Christmas Day.  Year after year me and Mum would end up in the living room late at night.

"That's it for another year," Mum would say.  We stayed up until after midnight with a late snack of cold meat, cold spuds, and pickled onions.  Warm, cosy, perfect Christmas memories for me, and that's what I want Sam to have as well.