I called an old friend the other day. She and her husband and I go way back to our heady days as interns. We were fresh out of medical school with our eyes firmly fixed on surgical careers while trying to navigate the many threats and obstacles to be found waiting in an inner city hospital. We met feeling all grown up and ready to grab life by the horns, grew more, grew closer, grew older, and grew apart as we followed our work. And yet, we always maintained a bond, even years and many miles apart. It must have been the timing, the shared experience. We were only together for a few years but they were exceptional years of growing and experimenting and learning and playing. And after that I have always had a place for him. A bit of me owned by him.
She told me that she and her husband were getting a divorce. Worse yet, the reason for their demise was related to his addiction to alcohol. He, a bright, fast talking Texan with an easy laugh and a million stories, appears to be slipping away-- socially withdrawn and no longer practicing. I am terribly sad at the news because I fear for my friend and knew him well enough to think, although he may have lived at risk, he didn't have this coming. His humor, intelligence, and animation were an amazing source of energy and pleasure in my life. He and his wife were the closest I've ever come to knowing a real life Nick and Nora Charles.
Great lives and great friendships that run afoul of life's deep mud and sand traps: It makes a sad story for a family, for a beautiful quick-witted intelligent spouse, and for an old friend. For my friend's sake I can always hold out hope that a journey into the abyss will lead to a stairway back to a whole and social life. One never knows. For me the news serves as yet another reminder just how fragile life is, how close one sometimes gets to the edge, and how fortunate I am to have friends to hold close. Life is never so good that I can take it for granted.
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