Drinking to remember. Drinking to forget

Matt Clack
Sep 8, 2018 · 3 min read
(image credit)

Tom was tired of drinking. It wasn’t like he was an alcoholic or anything, he just knew it wasn’t helping. When did this stop being fun? It kind of feels like a routine now.

Tom lived in the centre of a little town, near the coast. Like everyone he knew, Tom started drinking at college, then all through work and starting a family. Now 45, he wasn’t getting anywhere and was a bit worried about his health. Hangovers lasted for days, or til the next beer.

He’d always had a job, but got a few warnings about being late, and being lippy to his boss. Although he didn’t tell anyone, Tom felt like he hadn’t been that involved in his kids growing up, mostly because the pub was an easier way to relax.

“I see the ads, I know the ‘expert guidance’, I feel the excess”. Tom wants to cut down on how manys days a week two cans become more, and maybe lose a bit of weight. It’s just that it’s everywhere. Supermarkets, petrol stations, the bloody post office. What the hell is a leaflet going to do? Pictures of livers and lectures about units doesn’t change Friday night.

Losing a tooth was a wake-up call. So was being in the middle of a bust up outside Barracudas that ended with a quick trip to the cop shop.

In the end, it wasn’t a doctor that helped start the change. The guy from the housing association who came to fix the boiler asked if Tom was worried about his drinking, like how much it cost. Made a joke about all the cans in the recycling. It felt weird to be talking about health issues with a housing officer, but he could relate to what Tom was dealing with. He said Tom should speak to his GP.

His GP said his drinking was at risky levels. In the end, he didn’t give him medicine, but told him to speak to a ‘social prescriber’. This was someone from a local charity that knew about all the activities and classes in the town. Tom used to look after his dad’s veg patch, and thought joining a local growing group would give him space to clear his head a bit.

Tom still goes out with mates after work, but doesn’t really drink in the week anymore. The cans he used to drink at home are getting expensive, especially the high strength ones. His local cornershop even got closed down when the council caught them selling dodgy booze and fags. The veg group are a nice bunch, Tom’s proud when he brings food back for dinner. He’s taking his boy to football practice again. He feels a bit more in control of when he chooses to drink, not when it chooses him.


I wrote this following a talk I gave to a group of public health trainees about how to work with colleagues across the council to improve health outcomes. We spoke about the importance of storytelling, and Nathan Davies reflected that in preventative work it’s hard to talk about something that didn’t happen, because it was avoided. He then had a go, and I said I’d try too.

In 2016 in England, 21% of men and 10% of women said that their average weekly alcohol consumption was more than 21 units, though this is likely to be an underestimation (source).

Victims believed the offenders to be under the influence of alcohol in over half of all violent incidents, and alcohol-related crime is estimated to cost between £8bn and £13bn per year (source).

Older adults, Black adults, current smokers, and those with lower incomes and less education have fewer remaining teeth. (source)

Making Every Contact Count is an initiative that trains health and non-health staff to have tricky conversations with people about their health.

Social Prescribing is a system that enables GPs, nurses and other primary care professionals to refer people to a range of local, non-clinical services.

Minimum Unit Pricing isn’t mandatory in England yet (it is in Scotland), but some premises accept voluntary conditions.

The skills I spoke about in the talk were based on this research by Catharine Mangan and Catharine Needham at the University of Birmingham.