mooing "addict" to refuse Demerol — "Part of him hoped they were…"

Sobriety holding at the absolute floor of the body's capacity: burning down with fever, tube-mouthed, his single remaining volitional project is to gurgle the one word — "addict" — that will keep the narcotic out of his I.V., asking for the help to refuse the relief. And the honesty that makes it recovery rather than willpower is the middle line: part of him is quietly hoping they'll slip the Demerol in without his consent, so he can have it and not be responsible for taking it. The disease doesn't leave; the man just keeps mooing the truth about himself while it whispers, and the truth is the only tool he has left.