That summer I drank every day, everywhere I went. I had a bottle in my drawer next to me and a bottle next to my bed. I never did another drug, but I drank so much that my family finally asked a priest for help. My father gave me a bottle of medicine for alcoholism that produces unpleasant symptoms when users drink alcohol. I drank while taking it, which made me very sick. And I still drank. When the priest came, he said, "Jimmy, doctors said that with your diseases and the amount of drinking you’re doing, you’d be lucky to live another six months. So your choice is either to stop drinking and live or to continue drinking and die within six months.” I said, "I know I can't stop, so guess I'll have to die." The priest told my family what I said. My little brother–who is like my soul mate, looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "But we don't want you to die." All I could think of was how desperately I had to get out of that room at that moment and have a drink. But I finally stopped drinking. I was on the care team of my dentist Russell. A lot of people in New York knew him. At the time he was the most famous dentist in the city. He drank heavily and was also with AIDS, so I was selected to be on his care team. Everybody on the team was sober (清醒) but me. He went through dementia (痴呆) and died so quickly before my eyes. I stopped drinking and I’ve been with the disease for 35 years now. 小题1: Why did the author’s father give him the bottle of medicine?
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