I got a call from the Medical Examiner's office that one of my patients was found dead. It was the woman I saw the other week, the one who couldn't stop drinking, the one I called a drink-yourself-to-a-miserable-death alcoholic. The cause of death was clearly alcohol-related. She was found by her daughter, who had stopped by with her newborn baby. I didn't even know she had a daughter.
I spoke with the daughter on the phone. She talked about how the alcohol was the only thing that mattered to her mother; she only ever called her daughter to scream at her. The daughter seemed incredibly nice.
I haven't got anything profound to say about this. I'm just trying to imagine what it must be like to care more about getting drunk than about your daughter, or your brand-new grandchild, or your own life.