Exactly. I only have to think back to my maternal grandfather. The man died in 1984...he was found in his house, lying on the floor after his liver literally blew up from all the alcohol he guzzled throughout his adult life.
He was rushed to the hospital and placed in Intensive Care, with tubes all over, trying to cleanse his blood. He only woke up once in the 3 weeks he was in the ICU...his first words: “I need a beer!”
Had I been there (and had I been of legal drinking age then,) I would have gladly handed him the beer. He died a few days after this.
Painful way for my gramps to die, but he enjoyed life.
Yow. My pancreas exploded. That was bad...