The last night of his life is a legendary story, and it sounds like something your funniest, most unhinged uncle would brag about. Thomas was at the White Horse Tavern in New York City—his favorite spot, because it never kicked him out for reciting poetry at 3 AM. He allegedly told a bartender he could drink eighteen straight whiskies, chasing each one with a beer.
Imagine you’re out with friends on a Tuesday, and someone dares you to do eighteen shots. That’s exactly the vibe. He didn’t even make it to eighteen—he stopped at seventeen, then collapsed, famously saying, “I’ve had eighteen whiskies. I think that’s a record.” That’s like someone failing a marathon but claiming they won because they felt like they were winning.
The Doctor’s Hard-to-Swallow Pills
When he arrived at the hospital, the doctors diagnosed him with a severe case of acute alcoholism and what they called a “brain storm”—which sounds terrifying but also like a cool band name. They gave him cortisone and antibiotics, but here’s the part that feels like a comedy sketch: the doctor also injected him with glucose and insulin to balance his sugar levels.
Only problem? One of those treatments causes the brain to swell, which is exactly what you don’t want if you already have a brain that’s been pickled in booze for decades. It’s like trying to fix a leaky boat by pouring more water into it. The medical team meant well, but the combination apparently turned his brain into a too-full water balloon.
A Year’s Turning: Dylan Thomas in 2019 – Dylan Thomas News
