Before I say more, I should make it very clear that I was on a great many drugs at this time. That I had IVs of Demerol and oxycontin and some other things - I'm not sure what. I had no control over what I was saying. If I thought a thing, even for a moment, I announced it. So in this moment, at almost midnight on a Tuesday night in October I professed my undying love for him. I told him I wished I could be with him all the time. That it was only with him that I felt safe. Such insult to my husband who had been there, patiently waiting, for every surgery. Who had taken care of me, ran errands, doled out pills, comforted me. And I did appreciate my husband, so much more than I let him know, but what I felt for David was an almost religious love. And while I knew I would never sleep with him or pursue a real relationship - for many reasons - that I love my husband, that adultery is a mortal sin, that he is married with children and a wonderful wife and in my later years I could never do this to another woman, never be part of such betrayal, but I admit that I did want to make-love to his soul. I wanted to breathe life into him somehow. Oh, I know. It's too metaphysical, too theoretical. But how do I explain a love that is not corporeal but transcendental. So I declare my love, he holds me hand. He sits on my bed for what seems like a very long time, his other hand on my knee. This must be what they mean when they say 'bedside manner.' He was my comforter that night, as he had been many other times, but only now did I realize. I remember his face, I remember him being in my room, I remember the warm, mellow touch of his hand, but I don't remember everything I said. It was not until a few days later that I realized with horror that I had professed my great love. That it may have seen that I was flinging myself at him, some desperate and unhappy woman.

Friends told me of similar incidents. One dear friend who had breast cancer told me of the great crush she had on her oncologist. I've heard of many other patients, and now, in the waiting room to his office, I see the woman fawn and fall all over him. A few weeks ago, a couple of women were talking about him and with a sigh said, Oh, those blue eyes! After that, I felt quite ordinary. Relieved, though still terrified to see him, afraid of how he would treat me now. So I waited, my palms sweated, my heart beat fast.