There are days like this when in the morning you leave the house, you think “cool, it’s spring, the sun is shining, the butterflies are flying, people have probably gone to the swimming pool, I’ll be able to check that it’s there are still unexpired medicines in my emergency kit, take stock of the equipment, and why not check the unpaid bills of the social security if I’m in a slightly crazy mood”.
You have a coffee, you laugh stupidly with Secretary, you hesitate to trip up Associate when he comes by, maybe he would say hello to you like that. So far, so good. Well then, it’s time so you call the first one. And then suddenly it begins.
It starts with someone telling you regarding this family. Like him, you were fooled by what you saw or thought you saw, this specialist too, who took the liberty of phoning you to yell at you followingwards, when you managed as best you might. You don’t say anything, you go mmh mmh. Confidential medical information. Your interlocutor is wrong. But you know. Once once more the adage “A child you might want to shake is a battered child” has proven true. But you had the wrong culprit. And then it was even more complicated than that, and it still is. Even if now the child is smiling.
Mr. Sad tells that he loses his job. He changed bosses. The new one was once married to his sister. He finds himself unemployed for an old family story that didn’t really concern him.
It continues with medical abuse. You wonder how it is possible, frankly. It’s sad, but sad. You don’t go into medicine because you want to be nasty and do a lot of digging, you go into politics in this case. Or was I mistaken?
Well, here is MrCancer, in very bad shape today, so much so that when you see him from the end of the corridor, you already have your phone in your hand to hospitalize him. How might he wait until today? And why ? By digging a little, obviously MrCancer did as usual, he stopped certain medications, that explains very well the diagnosis already made at the end of the corridor. How long will he last like this?
Ms. Depressed is hitting rock bottom more than usual. It is difficult to know where the persecution syndrome ends and where reality begins.
It continues with an incest. You suspected that it was something like that, for a long time, under the mountain of various and varied symptoms and examinations. A suffering buried under a suffering shown.
Along comes Monsieur Tired who can no longer manage his two demented parents. You think that you in his place, you mightn’t take it anymore either.
After Mr Gentil tells his new life, with this woman, her children, and the threats of the ex-husband. Threats. Stress. Of fear. Complaints. Military policemen.
And then comes this girl who usually has a serious headache, but not today. She is harassed at work, she does not understand. It’s hard to cheer him up a bit, to shed some light on the future.
In between, a few runny noses, a bit of gynecology, but not enough trivia to compensate.
And then the day finally ended.
Finally.
At which point it becomes too much for one pair of ears. When does the urge to place your hands on those ears appear while humming “I hear nothing, lalala, I hear nothing”.
From when we think of the bottle of rum that must still be lying around in the bar, anyway we hope because it’s been a long time since we’ve touched it, and worse if there’s no more rum from Marie-Galante, there will certainly be an arranged rum lying around somewhere, less good, but just as effective in anesthetizing the mind and sleeping in a semblance of calm. And we think of AssociéEnBaskets, lucid, who said “well it will be a miracle if we don’t all end up alcoholics”.
From what moment does the sun stop shining and the birds stop singing in your head… and you just can’t wait to hold close to the one you love to smell the scent of his neck, caress the skin from her belly, in the middle of the rum vapors, to forget what Man is capable of while waiting for a new sunrise to make us believe that life is good.
More…
What will happen when even the rum is no longer strong enough to anesthetize the thoughts? What will happen when the sunrises are no longer enough to sweep away the darkness?
When do we switch?
NB: it’s fine, don’t worry. And thank you for your kind words 🙂
