he repeated that anecdote several times in poems, stories and interviews.
One is in the 'Notes Of A Dirty Old Man' (ca. p121):
"I'm just sitting in a room on N. Kingsley Dr., out of the hospital with hemorrhages, stomach and ass, my blood all over the county general hospital, and they telling me after nine pints of blood and nine pints of glucose, "one more drink and you're dead." this is no way to talk to a suicide head."