Page 69 of Taste of Addiction

“So, what am I supposed to do?”

“I’m going to draw your blood and test it in the lab. Those results, you will need to sign off on for the release to another doctor. I want you to see someone who specializes in addiction and psychological counseling. I am not your best fit. However, I can monitor vitals and take routine blood to make sure your overall health is taken into consideration.”

“Okay…”

“I’m also going to give you a couple of books to read and a journal to write in. Staying busy and understanding how you got to where you are today will help you dig your way out. Some days will be harder than others—know that. You have a man by your side who would move heaven and earth to help you. It’s okay to lean on others for support. In fact, I recommend it.”

I nod my head. “He is my rock.”

“And I’m sure you are his.”

I shake my head. “Not so sure about that.”

Graham’s throat clears, and I turn to see him lingering in the hallway that leads to his office. “Everything okay?”

“I’m going to draw some blood, recommend a new team of doctors, and leave Angie with some reading materials.”

Graham walks over to me and sits down beside me on the couch. I lean into his shoulder and rest my head. I am not in the mood for a conversation and am glad he doesn’t force one. Dr. Saber puts on his latex gloves, ties a tourniquet band around my arm, and gets the needle ready.

I close my eyes and listen to Graham talk about his plan to take me to his parents’ house to celebrate Christmas in a few weeks. My semester will be over. I can either lick my battle wounds there or celebrate the start of something wonderful. Either way, I can find appreciation in the aspect of getting away together. While the last holiday spent in Hillsboro was fun, there was the lingering threat and the box of secrets hanging over our heads. But has anything changed from then until now? Mark is lying low, but it is not like the target was ever really removed from my back.

The only thing changing is me and how I decide to cope with the stress. I can either control my own destiny or allow the hardships of life to dictate the direction I travel.

“All done,” Graham says, kissing my forehead.

I open my eyes and look down at the Band-Aid that is on my vein. Dr. Saber is extremely efficient at what he does.

“I’m leaving this stack of items for you to look through,” Dr. Saber says, pointing to the pile on the coffee table. “I also left the name of the doctors who I recommend for your case. They work together in the same practice. They do not do home visits, but the office is right here in the city and you can probably even walk there. Appointments are usually booked six months out, but with some persuasion from your gatekeeper,” he says, nudging his shoulder toward Graham, “I bet they’ll make an exception.”

“Thanks, Mitch,” Graham says, reaching a hand out to shake his.

Dr. Saber walks over to me, pats me on the back, and wishes me well. He then exits right as Collins is arriving.

I glance at the time on my phone and see it is almost lunchtime and my shift at the cafe will be starting.

“I’m here to take you to work, Miss McFee,” Collins says.

“Okay, thanks. I’m just going to run upstairs and change fast.”

Graham follows me up. I move about the room getting ready for my shift, pulling clothes from hangers, and trying to find comfortable shoes to match. I feel the panic rising in the pit of my stomach as I want to climb the wall with my craving. It is like a shadow lingering in the caverns of my brain, waiting for me to crack.

“Can you call and ask Dr. Saber if I can at least have some Tylenol or ibuprofen? I forgot to ask.”

“I know the answer.”

“Well, what is it?” I snap. I don’t want to play a game right now. This is information I need to know.

“No, Angela.”

“You sure?”

“The answer is no.”

“Ever?”

He lets out a sigh. “Just not right now.”

I huff and stomp into the bathroom. I bend down over the sink and splash some cold water on my face. I feel the warmth of Graham’s arms envelop me. I lift my head. Water drips down my cheek, and he grabs a clean hand towel to help me dry myself off. He looks at me in the mirror, and I feel weak and small.

---