Ian Copestick

Pete, I Think

Earlier, this afternoon
I was talking with a guy
I vaguely know, who I
usually see hanging out
in the town with a can of
super strength lager in his
hand.
He told me that I probably
won’t see him after Xmas.
His doctor’s said that he’s
got less than a month to
live.
Liver problems.

Living problems.
As I said, I don’t know him
well, I can’t even remember
his name, but whenever I’ve
spoken to him, I’ve liked him.
He’s somewhere around my
age, I think he’s a couple of
years younger, in fact.
I found this heartbreaking, what
was even sadder was the way
he said it.
In a matter of fact way, as if
it didn’t matter, that dying in
his mid-40’s of cirrhosis of
the liver, was nothing more
than he expected.
Nothing more than he could
hope for.
He told me that several of
his family members died in
quick succession, and this
led him to a three month
binge. During this time, the
only liquids to pass his lips
were alcoholic drinks. This
caused his liver to pack in.


I must be unbelievably lucky,
because my wife and I went
for several years with drinking
only alcohol. Her liver is not
in good condition, and I doubt
mine is either, but no one has
told us that we are about to
die.
She went for a liver scan, just
last week, and was told that
she’s in reasonably good shape.
I have annual blood tests, as
I had a stroke, nearly 15 years
ago, and they always tell me
I have nothing to worry about.
We both must have the angels
on our side.
Or the constitution of a pair of
elephants.
But, that’s no consolation to the
poor bloke from Kidsgrove, who
doesn’t expect to see spring.
I hope he’s okay, he’s always
made me laugh, whenever we’ve
talked. If someone makes you
feel happier after meeting them,
you can’t ask for much more
than that. 

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