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Hépato-gastro-
entérologie
Chirurgie digestive
Sous l'égide de la
Collégiale des Universitaires en Hépato-gastro-entérologie
4e édition
Elsevier Masson SAS, 65, rue Camille-Desmoulins, 92442 Issy-les-Moulineaux cedex, France
Hépato-gastro-entérologie – Chirurgie digestive, 4e édition, sous l'égide de la Collégiale des Universitaires en
Hépato-gastro-entérologie.
© 2018, Elsevier Masson SAS
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Table des matières
Retrouvez toute l'actualité relative aux Référentiels des Collèges en vous connectant à l'adresse
suivante : http://www.blog-elsevier-masson.fr/2018/06/lactualite-referentiels-colleges/
I Connaissances
1 Item 74 – UE 3 – Addiction à l'alcool. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
I. Définitions. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
A. Addiction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
B. Usage, mésusage et troubles d'usage d'alcool . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
II. Étiologie. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
III. Épidémiologie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
IV. Dépistage, repérage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
V. Examens biologiques . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
VI. Signes cliniques. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
A. Intoxication alcoolique aiguë (ivresse) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
B. Coma alcoolique. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
C. Dépendance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 V
D. Accidents du sevrage. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
VII. Complications somatiques . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
VIII. Prise en charge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
A. Principes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
B. Modalités. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
A fter closing Wallace’s desk upon his secret David walked slowly
over to the dormitory. He felt bewildered and uncertain.
Something that had been precious to him, something to which he
had clung, had suddenly and utterly been shattered. To get the
better of a master in any way that you could was, he knew, the code
of many fellows, and in ordinary circumstances, where the master
had what the boys termed “a sporting chance,” a resort to
subterfuges and deceptions did not necessarily imply depravity. But
to take advantage of a blind man—that was base.
David arrived at his room five minutes before the hour for
luncheon. Happy excitement over the contest of the afternoon in
which he was to play a part had faded; in its place there seemed
only a dull ache of disappointment and loss. There came to him
memories of Wallace’s generous friendship—of the day when he had
supported him in his fight with Henshaw, of the time when he had
given him his running shoes, of the little acts of kindness; and he
wondered now why it was that he could not overlook the discovery
that he had just made and feel toward Wallace as he had always
done.
The dinner bell rang; descending the stairs, David encountered
Wallace at the bottom. Wallace was radiant, slapped him on the
shoulders and cried: “I’ll get your goat this afternoon, Dave. How
are you feeling? Fine?”
“Not especially,” David answered; indeed, he felt himself shrinking
under his friend’s touch. He knew now that he could not assume the
old exuberant geniality and that until he had given Wallace an
opportunity to explain he could not keep up even the pretense of
warm friendship.
Wallace did not notice his coolness; he saw another friend and
made for him. At the luncheon table Henshaw and Monroe and
others expressed their satisfaction that Wallace was saved to the
Pythian team and, more important still, to the school team. David
wondered whether they thought he was jealous or envious or
unsportsmanlike because he did not join in the remarks. He
supposed they did think so, but that could add little to his
unhappiness.
As a matter of fact, once out on the field he was able to forget his
depressing preoccupations; the lively work of the preliminary
practice restored his zest for the game. And when it began he was
as keen to do his best, as eager to win, as any one on the Corinthian
nine. But victory did not perch on the Corinthian banner, in spite of
the loyal support of the “rooters” along the third-base line, in spite
of the desperate efforts of catcher and captain and whole infield to
steady a wavering pitcher, in spite of a ninth-inning rally, when a
shower of hits by seemingly inspired batters brought in three runs
that were within one of tying the score. The Pythians triumphed,
eight runs to seven, and unquestionably the chief honors belonged
to Wallace. His home run, a smashing hit to left center in the third
inning, brought in two others; and his double in the seventh sent
what proved to be the winning tally across the plate. Moreover, it
was his leaping one-hand catch of a hot liner from Treadway’s bat
that closed the game when the Corinthians were most threatening.
David, crouched forward on the players’ bench in nervous
intentness when that incident happened, felt a pang of
disappointment, then a throb of admiration for the brilliant catch and
of gladness for him who had made it, and then the chill of
despondency; there could be no real heartiness in any
congratulations that he might offer to his old friend. The Pythian
crowd was rallying round Wallace; in another moment he was
hoisted on their shoulders and was being borne exuberantly toward
the athletic house, while spectators and players streamed in his
wake. David, walking slowly, overtook Mr. Dean, who arm in arm
with Mr. Randolph was leaving the field.
“A pretty good rally that you fellows made, David,” said Mr.
Randolph. “If it hadn’t been for that catch of Wallace’s you might
have beaten them.”
“Yes, yes!” Mr. Dean chuckled. “Wallace was too much for your
team, David. It seemed to me that I kept hearing the crack of his
bat and the thud of his glove all through the game. Well, he earned
his right to play, and I’m glad he distinguished himself.”
“He certainly played a wonderful game,” was all that David could
say in reply.
In the athletic house Wallace was still surrounded by his admirers.
David dressed hastily and went to his room. He shut himself in there
and thought. If he told Wallace what he had discovered and what he
suspected and how the suspected act of dishonesty had made him
feel, what would be the result? Wallace would probably always shun
him henceforth, and he would always be uncomfortable when
Wallace was present. Intimacy between them would die. And then—
David knitted his brows over this question—could he afford to return
to St. Timothy’s for another year at Dr. Wallace’s expense? Would he
not feel ashamed to do it? Would not Lester Wallace be justified in
that case in looking at him with a sneer? It did not take David long
to determine what must be the answer. No; in such circumstances to
continue to be the beneficiary of Dr. Wallace’s bounty would be
intolerable. David realized that his career at St. Timothy’s must come
to an untimely end.
With that thought in mind, gazing out of the window at the
pleasant, sun-swept lawns and the ivy-covered buildings, he felt sad
and sorrowful. He did not want to leave prematurely this place that
he had learned to love and that was to have been—had already
been—so helpful in his development. But schooling purchased at the
sacrifice of self-respect would cost too dear. To preserve his self-
respect he must not play any false part toward Wallace; he must let
him know exactly what he had discovered and what a change in his
feelings the discovery had made.
Fifteen minutes later, on his way to the study, he met Ruth
Davenport and Lester Wallace. David touched his cap and was
passing on when Ruth stopped him.
“Wasn’t he the wonder, David!” she exclaimed with a sidelong
laugh at Wallace. “Do you suppose that after all he did to-day he’ll
have anything left to show against St. John’s?”
“Oh, just as much,” David answered lightly.
Wallace laughed; he was in high spirits. “Well, if I don’t, they’ll
have a mighty good substitute to use in my place.” He clapped David
on the shoulder.
“Yes,” Ruth agreed. “It’s a shame, David, that you both can’t play.
But anyway it will be much nicer for Mr. Dean; he told me that you
help him to see a game better than any one else. There he comes
now with father. Good-bye.” She darted across the road and went
skipping to meet the rector and Mr. Dean.
Wallace linked arms with David and started toward the study. “You
put up a cracking good game, too, Dave. Next year you must try
playing second base. Adams won’t be coming back, and you ought
to be able to get the place on the school nine. We’d make a good
team, you and I, at first and second.”
“I probably shan’t be coming back next year,” David answered.
Wallace dropped his arm and looked at him with amazement and
consternation.
“Why? What’s the trouble?”
“Oh, it just looks as if it wouldn’t be possible. But I want to talk to
you about something else, Lester. You remember I was sitting in the
schoolroom when you came in after your examination at noon?”
“Yes.” Wallace shot at him a glance of sharp suspicion.
“After you’d gone,” David continued with a tremor of nervousness
in his voice, “I wanted an eraser; I couldn’t find mine, and I looked
in your desk for it. I saw the book that was lying on top of the
others. I suppose it was the one you had just been using in your
examination.”
Wallace’s face had turned a dull red. He hesitated a moment, then
he said quietly, “Yes, it was.”
“I didn’t suppose you’d do that kind of thing, Lester,” said David.
“If you’d done it to anybody else—but to a man that’s blind!”
Wallace was silent. David, glancing at him as they walked, saw
that his head was downcast and his face still red. The sight made
David, who had been steeling himself to be hard, soften and want to
say, “O Lester, we’ll forget it, we’ll never think of it again!” But he
knew that could not be true, and he walked on, silent.
“I was ashamed of it, Dave,” Wallace said at last in a low voice. “I
used the book in class—that’s how my recitations happened to be so
good. That’s how I got a reputation for being so bright—my election
to the Pen and Ink. You know I wouldn’t take it, Dave.” He spoke
with appeal in his voice. “I was ashamed to do that.”
They were approaching the study; they crossed the road to avoid
groups of boys who were standing in front of the building. “What
you fellows having a heart-to-heart about?” called Adams, who had
played second base on the Corinthian nine. Wallace made no
answer; David waved a hand in reply. They walked slowly on—for a
time in silence. Then Wallace spoke again:
“I found the book just by chance in a second-hand bookstore in
town. It wasn’t as if I’d done anything to injure Mr. Dean. It couldn’t
hurt him in any way.” His tone was pleading rather than defiant.
“No,” David said. “But it wasn’t straight. Don’t you see?”
“I didn’t always read the translation,” Wallace pleaded. “I only
looked at it when I had to.”
“If it had been anybody but a blind man.”
“Lots of fellows crib any way they can.”
“Not with Mr. Dean.”
“You’re dippy about him; you take it worse than he would
himself!” Wallace’s manner had become resentful instead of
appealing.
“I can’t help it, Lester. Here’s a thing that I’ve found out about
you, and I’ve got to be honest and tell you how it’s made me feel.”
“All right; it’s just the opinion of a prig. I guess you’re right in
leaving; you’re too good to live in this school.”
Wallace’s voice had grown suddenly bitter with anger, and his
eyes, raised at last to meet David’s fairly, were hard and bright.
“Well,” said David flushing, “perhaps I am a prig. Anyway, you
can’t be more disappointed in me than I am in you.”
The study bell rang out; David wheeled and walked briskly to the
schoolroom while Wallace followed at a slower pace. In the hour of
study David’s thoughts kept straying from his books. He knew now
that he had hoped Wallace might have some explanation, some
defense. His little world was in ruins, and he had done his best. He
was not sure that he had not been the prig that Wallace styled him.
Anyway, it was the end of friendship between him and Wallace—and
that meant the end of his term at St. Timothy’s School.
That evening after supper Clarence Monroe brought David word
that Mr. Dean would like to see him at his house for a few minutes.
He found the master lying on his lounge, with his hands under his
head.
“I was fortunate enough to learn a lot of poetry in my youth,” said
Mr. Dean when David entered. “It helps me now to while away the
time, and passages that I thought I had long since forgotten keep
coming back to me. Of course there are gaps, and it’s very trying not
to be able to fill them at once—to have to wait until I can find some
one to look the missing lines up for me. Just now I’ve been dredging
my memory in vain; do you remember the lines:
“Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods
And mountains?”