Life with a normal drinker

My husband had minor surgery on his hand a couple of weeks ago. The other day the surgical site started to look a little funky: swollen, yellowish, and was super tender to the touch. So he called the doctor who prescribed an antibiotic. He stopped at the pharmacy after work and asked the pharmacy tech if there’s anything he should avoid while taking it.  She couldn’t give him a clear-cut answer.

He comes home and searches the drug on the Mayo Clinic website.  Sure enough, there’s a strong caution about avoiding alcohol while taking this medication.

From the other room he calls to me, “Hey, hon – you’re gonna have some company for the next week!”  I have no clue what he’s talking about, of course.  So he tells me he can’t drink while on this antibiotic.  To him, it’s no big whoop.  He doesn’t even bat an eye. I find that kind of approach to booze absolutely fascinating. Bewildering, in fact.

If that had been me, I would have probably talked to the doctor BEFORE he prescribed anything, nervously making sure that whatever he gave me was safe to take if I ‘had a glass of wine or something’. I would have felt an inner panic rising if I had been faced with a whole week in which I couldn’t drink. I’d have done EVERYTHING in my power to ensure that I was prescribed something that wouldn’t interfere with my wine consumption. And if that failed, I would have been completely, 100 percent miserable.

Add that to the list of reasons I really needed to quit drinking.