Page 68 of Taste of Addiction

“What’s going on?”

“Dr. Saber is here to check you out and do a blood test.”

“What? Why? I feel a lot better.” And I do. I don’t understand why I would need a blood test or any of this fussing. “I’m doing everything you say. I’m drinking water and eating and going for fast-paced walks.”

“Baby, I’m not doing this to punish you. I just think it’s for the best.”

I glare up at him. “Then why not warn me?”

He bends to place a kiss on my forehead, tugging me to him. “Because you would have obsessed over it all morning and defeated the purpose of taking your mind off the need crawling through your body.”

I bite my tongue as tears start to fill my eyes. But I swallow down my fear and allow Graham to guide me into the living room.

“Hello, Miss McFee. Graham,” Dr. Saber says from the corner of the room. He is rummaging through his briefcase to find his notes.

“Hi,” I say quickly, but then turn my attention on Graham who feigns nonchalance. Maybe he doesn’t trust me.

“Graham, step out of the room for a bit while I examine her. When it comes to the needle prick, I will call for you.”

He reluctantly leaves, and I move to sit on the couch. “Is this even necessary? I am starting to feel a lot better.”

“It’s an illusion. Your body and mind are resilient. They want you to cope, and having you think nothing is wrong is a powerful strategy.”

“How do you know?” I question.

“Because I’ve been doing this for a while. And I saw some warning signs.”

My mouth opens and closes. “What kind of signs?”

“You would ask for higher potency pain meds when the injury did not justify the risk of taking said meds.”

“Oh.” Was I that transparent? I would have done anything to get my hands on some pills. But will I resort to those means now? I seem to be back on my feet again.

“Just sit and relax, while I take a look at you.”

“Okay.” I sit still, but I can’t help my fidgeting. I have been on edge since leaving the coffee shop—my anxiety at a barely manageable level.

“How do you feel?”

“Great,” I lie.

His eyes narrow at me. “Your head feels fine?”

I feel the lump forming in my throat. “Well, no. Not exactly.”

“Your mouth isn’t dry?”

I swallow but feel the scratchiness deep in my throat. “Just a little.”

“You feel like your skin is crawling?”

Shit. How does he know? And who am I fooling? Not even myself.

“Angela, this isn’t a twenty-four-hour success story. This is a journey. You’re going to have to come face-to-face with your addiction and go through the steps to heal.” He shines a light into my eyes and jots down a few notes. “This is not the time in your life to cut corners. You did not get to this stage overnight. So, do not expect to get better overnight.”

I nod my head and sigh. “I honestly have no idea how I got so bad.”

“That’s what happens to so many people. It’s not like one day you wake up and decide to develop an addiction. It is often gradual. But what you have been taking alters the reactions in your brain, and your body craves higher dosages. That is how people move from self-medicating for relief to full-blown addiction.”

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