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Krissy's Alcohol Nightmare
Hello, my name is Krissy Woolf, and I am 14 years old. I bet you are
expecting this story to be about me right? Well you're wrong, because its
not about me, but about
my mother. I was only 11 at the time, my mother was an
alcoholic, and a bad, bad,
one at that.
One day in mid November of 2002, my mom had already had one run in with a
blackout at my sisters birthday party in late October, she fell into
mine and my sisters' room, and hit her head on our bookshelf breaking one of
the shelves. She was then just on-an-off in person. One minute she would be
fully alert, and the next it was as if she wasn't even there.
Then in November she was taking a nap on the couch, she got up to go to the
bathroom, and then all I heard was a loud crashing noise. I rushed to the
bathroom to find my mother laying on the floor wedged in between the toilet,
and the wall, with a metal rod only about 1 1/2 inches away from piercing
threw her skull. I then right away screamed to my brother (16 at the time)
to come pull her out. Then I called 911 right away. Within only minutes the
paramedics were here at our door. She was taken straight to the hospital
then I had the job of calling my father, and grandmother and telling them
the news. My dad (who was at a bar at the time) rushed home. My grandmother
rushed over to our house. Neither of them could believe what had happened.
It was horrible. A few hours later, I went with my grandmother, and sister
to the hospital to see my mother. I told her what had happened since my
sister was out of the house at that time and didn't know until she arrived
home. She went in for surgery 3 days later. Right when they got ready to
release her, they found that that lasic surgery
didn't work at all, and that there was another ulcer,
It was horrible.
At the time I had been staying with my grandmother
every weekend. I couldn't be home. I went to see my mother everyday though.
After her second surgery she was put into ICU for 4 weeks. She was in a coma
for 4 of the first days she was in ICU. When I went to see her one of those
days, it was just my grandmother and I. All remember was crying and crying
that I wanted her to say my name, so that I knew she was there,
At last she couldn't. But she tried to move her toes, and I noticed, she
could hear me, but could not speak to me. And that
was sign enough. Later on she got put back into a
regular room, and soon came home on December 8 th
2002, a meare
8 weeks after she had gone in.
Then came recovery time, my mother couldn't stay
at our house, so she lived with my grandmother till February 26 2003. She
then came home and was ok until one day, we found
it again. The alcohol she had been drinking before. My brother was outraged
at her. He took all the bottles he could find, and took her outside, and
broke them and said to her face, yelling, "HOW FUCKING STUPID CAN YOU BE?
YOU KNOW YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DO THIS AGAIN! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT
HURT ME, AND BETH, AND KRISSY THE MOST?! IF I EVER FIND ANOTHER BOTTLE I
WILL KILL YOU WITH IT, THEN MYSELF! WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?"
That must have worked, because it has been almost
4 years, and as far as we know she is still sober. However she has been
showing a few signs that she might be doing it again. But we will just watch
her, and hope that she isn't. It wasn't fun being 11, with a 13 year old
sister, and a 16 year old brother and a mother in the hospital,
It was hard. I fell back on my schoolwork, and had to see the
counselor,
It was horrible. But at last the best news that I ever heard was from one of
her doctors, he said to me, "Had it not been for you calling, your mother
would have surly died. You saved her life. If you would've waited 5 more
minutes, she would have died. You should be proud, you saved her life." I
wasn't really, It was straight hell the whole time
she was gone, and the worst part was, that she was never quite the same
again. Its really a shame that she chose to do that. Because she didn't have
too, not at all. Now I
am 14, and strong, I will never be the mother mine was, I will never put my
kids through the shear hell
that my mother put us through.
Krissy Woolf |
