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Partir c’est mourir un peu

published: 2008-11-26

Finding yourself dependent on something is a tricky situation to be in. Dependent on a glass of wine to calm down, dependent on sleeping pills to sleep, dependent on chocolate to feel happy, cocaine for confidence, fast driving for a buzz. Still, with this type of dependency, at least you are able to control the object of your dependency. It's when it comes to dependency on another human being, that things can get nasty. What happens when that person decides to leave?
This morning, my specialist (the one who gives me my voice back, every three months, and has been the only one I've allowed anywhere near to my neck for the past few years) said he was leaving to work for another hospital. Would he still be treating SD, I so desperately asked. Hell, I'd even take a plane to be treated by him if necessary. Unfortunately, he couldn't answer this. I suspect it was because we weren't alone, there was a medical team of six waiting to start my treatment.
"Not to worry," he said cheerily, "doctor Adams here will take over. I've been training him."
So this time, during the treatment I actually cried. I blamed the treatment and nerves -of course. On leaving, my specialist squeezed my shoulder and said, "you have my email address don't you? Could you send me a copy of your new book when it's done?" This means the object of my dependency is giving me hope. 

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