If symptoms

persist.. .

CALL no man happy, said Solon a long time ago, till he dies: he is at best fortu- nate. Amen to that; but even the sternest moralist among us will agree that there is little control anyone can have exerted over whether he was born or not. In short, we are all victims of our parents' concupiscence.

We may not exercise much choice over our entry into this vale of tears, but we can at least choose an exit from it. Indeed, we may even exit to the applause of those who, even if I cannot call them our dearest, I can with justice and accu- racy call our nearest. Many are my patients who, having decided to end it all with an excess of pills, are strengthened in their resolve by their consorts who, flinging an extra bottle or packet in their direction, encourage them with the words, 'Here, take the whole bloody lot, see if I care!'

I encountered a slight variation of this phenomenon last week. A young woman on my ward had taken to the pills to gain the upper hand in an argument with the person she called 'my partner', and who would now appear — in politically cor- rect American medical notes — as her `significant other'.

This person (what's in a name?) watched her take the pills, and when she had finished he told her that he loved his video more than her and always had done; then went down to the pub as usual.

She called the ambulance and while waiting for it to arrive she decided to avenge herself on the offending video.

`Has your boyfriend been to see you since you came to hospital?' I asked. `Yes,' she replied.

`And what did he say?'

"'My video's broke."' `He's evidently a man of few words, your boyfriend,' I remarked.

`But I didn't mean to, doctor,' she said. `I didn't mean to smash his video.'

`It was an accident, then?' I asked. `Yes, an accident.'

`You accidentally smashed his video, after you had a row with him?'

`Yes, that's right.'

Well, accidents do happen, especially round here. For example, one of my patients that very same day had given his wife a karate chop in the face.

`I can't remember nothing about it, doctor, except that she was being mouthy at the time.'

It is curious how these days it is the assailant rather than the assaulted who seeks medical treatment.

`She's leading me to drink,' he said. `How does she do that?'

`She drinks herself, and she knows I can't handle it. I've got to get away from where I'm living, doctor.'

`Why?' I asked.

`There's a pub over the road.'

He also took drugs — 'anythink I can get my hands on'.

He said that everywhere and everyone he knew was awash with drugs. How, then, could I expect him to stop?

`You've got to do something, doctor, this can't go on.'

I thought for a moment.

`I seem to have two choices,' I said. `Either I close down every pub in Eng- land and hang every drug-dealer in the land from a lamppost, or I send you on your own to the Empty Quarter in Saudi Arabia. Which is it to be?'

Theodore Dalrymple