Alcohol
A week ago, after more than two years without alcohol, I had a rather large glass of red wine. The reaction was startling. It felt like a wrecking ball had hit my system. I was reminded just how profoundly alcohol can affect the body when you haven't consumed it for a long time.
It got me thinking about people who drink regularly, even daily. Over time, they develop a tolerance to alcohol, and the obvious physical reaction becomes less noticeable. They may no longer feel the same shock, discomfort, or impairment from a drink. But the absence of those warning signals doesn't mean the alcohol has become less harmful to the body—or to the liver. In some ways, that tolerance seems almost sinister because it can mask what is actually happening.
I remember cigarettes being much the same way. The first time you smoke, the experience can be awful. You cough, choke on the smoke, feel dizzy or nauseated, and your body seems to be screaming, “What are you doing to me?” But smoke becomes familiar. Eventually, the coughing and nausea may disappear, and the smoker no longer feels that same immediate rejection.
Yet the damage hasn't disappeared. The body has simply adapted to the exposure.
That makes me wonder whether the initial reaction to both alcohol and cigarettes is, in some sense, the body trying to communicate with us. It doesn't necessarily mean that every unpleasant reaction is a warning of serious harm, but it is remarkable how quickly the body can tell us when something doesn't agree with it.
The real question is: Do we listen?