My First Beer

One summer in the 1960s, I was working as a nurse at a hospital in a small city near a military base.  When I came to work one morning, I was assigned to one patient and one only.  There was no ICU at the hospital.  ICUs were just coming into being, and this patient needed constant attention.

He had been admitted during the night, and he was a big, strong young man on temporary assignment at the military base.  He had unfortunately been drinking heavily the prior evening.  He became so drunk that he fell from a second-floor porch and landed on his head.  He reeked of beer.  No catheter had yet been inserted, so there was a urinal between his legs to catch what was coming out of his bladder.  It was foamy and smelled like beer.

Not only was he unconscious, but I saw some white material oozing from his ear.  I knew it was brain tissue and put it on a gauze square to show the doctor when he came in.  When the doctor arrived, he noticed it sitting on the bedside stand immediately…before I had a chance to call his attention to it.  He decided to do a tracheotomy and proceeded to do one right there in the room.  This was to no avail, however, as the young man died only about 3 hours later.  His brain injury was incompatible with life.

If I was ever tempted to drink beer, the smell of it and the memory of the appearance of his urine turned me away.  I have always found the odor of beer revolting.

So now I am 78 and have never tried to drink beer or had the least desire to do so.  This evening, my son-in-law offered me a drink of an imported beer (German) that has only 2 and ½% alcohol and a grapefruit base.  I said I would try a very small glass.  It did not have the distinctive smell, and I actually liked the taste…not enough to make it a habit, but it was interesting to try.

I did not have “trying beer” on my bucket list, but perhaps I will do what I do with “to do” lists.  Sometimes I put something that I have already done on my “to do” list, so I can cross something off.