I’ve Got Some Alcoholic Hepatitis

While all of my friends are drinking heavily and basking in the scorching sun in Acapulco, I’m home with the ‘rents. Not only am I spending my spring break with my parents, but I have a butt-load of school work to catch up on and to make matters worse, I can’t even drink with my friends from home. Why no drinking, you might ask? It’s called a scary dose of reality, otherwise known as (possible) alcoholic hepatitis.

Last Sunday I was admitted to a local hospital (in my college area) due to increasingly painful bursts of pain that would shoot from my stomach, up into my chest, and through my back. It all started on Friday night when I arrived home from work around 1:30am—keep in mind I had been battling a horrific hangover all day and night. First as a dull, but incredibly uncomfortable pain in my upper abdominal region, I attempted to fall asleep and hope for the pains to be gone by morning; instead, they only worsened… and worsened… and worsened.

Now, after several tests and about 15 hours (in total) at 3 different medical facilities I’m left with no drinking for a month, no caffeine (yea okay!—I won’t be able to hold that up), no greasy foods or anything that tastes remotely good; and still no real or definite answers. All I do know is that my “casual” drinking habits—which in all honesty are not even all that extreme, compared to the many of my other colleagues—have left me unhealthy, in pain, and beach-less!

Take a lesson from me, because if in fact I am ailing from this rare illness, I will never be able to drink again. Mama always told me binge drinking could lead to liver failure and I always brushed her off. Well now here I am, with a very good chance of having the very same thing mama always warned me about. And here she is, taking care of me while I fight it. To be honest, in times like these—spring break or not—Dorothy hit it right on the head; there’s no place like home.

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