Dr. John T. Carter, III was sick. He knew from the moment it started that he was sick. The chills, the night sweats, the nausea, unfortunately it comes with the territory of being a doctor. He tried to forget about it, plunging deeper into his work. It was easier for him to focus on other patients, and not on his own failing health. But how long could the charade last? He would learn all too soon.
Dr. Susan Lewis had noticed her colleague's decline in health slowly at first. The first signs were the dark circles under his eye. At first she thought it must be the long days and nights working in the E.R. Then she noticed the weight loss. She hadn't seen him so thin since her return to the E.R. three years ago when he was still recovering from his trip to Atlanta. Each day she wrestled with the idea of mentioning it to Carter, but chalked it all up to stress. Right?
Finally, Susan decided something must be going on within Carter more than the daily grind. She walked in on him trying to draw blood from himself. He tried to make up some sort of county request for a tox screen. The random screenings that had taken place when he returned from Atlanta had ceased a year ago. He was caught.
"Would you like some help with that?", Susan asked as she began to prep Carter's right arm for a blood draw.
"Uh...yeah...sure...thanks." Lying was something that Carter simply couldn't do. Susan had learned that early on when Carter was a med. student.
Susan begin to draw blood from Carter's arm. "Is there something you would like to talk about? I know what a bad liar you are Carter."
"What would I have to lie about?", he said, trying to sound as innocent as he could, but without success.
"I don't know...perhaps why you're trying to draw your own blood...secretly in here. I'm not dumb Carter. Something is going on, and as a friend I would like to help you, if I can."
A friend. Carter hated the sound of those words. They had always been "friends". Even when they had tried something a little more romantic, they were always just friends. "Nothing's wrong. Just a little under the weather, " Carter said as Susan finished drawing his blood.
Instinctively, Susan reached up to feel his forehead. Carter squirmed out from under her hand, not wanting to reveal anything that might make Susan even more suspicious. "You feel a little warm." She turned to the tray behind her and grabbed a thermometer, and tried to place it in his ear. "Here. Let me at least take your temperature?"
Carter smirked at her. "I've been working hard today. That's why I'm warm. Besides, I'm sure it's nothing more than the flu."
"Then you won't mind me taking your temperature, right?"
"Fine," Carter stated somewhat annoyed by Susan's persistence. "But I think I can take it myself." He grabbed the thermometer and shoved it into his own ear.
The wait seemed to take an eternity. When the thermometer signaled it was finished, both Carter and Susan jumped. Susan took the thermometer from Carter and read the screen.
"101.5. You've got a fever. You shouldn't be here. I'll cover the rest of your shift. You need to go home." Susan dug in her pocket for a tongue depressor, which she tried to stick in Carter's mouth with much resistance.
Carter stood up, grabbed his white lab coat, and began to walk out of the room. "Susan, you're overreacting. I'm fine. Really. If I wasn't, I would've stayed home today. Now, I don't know about you, but I have patients to see.", and with that Dr. John T. Carter, III exited the room leaving Dr. Lewis bewildered.
Dr. John T. Carter, III couldn't sleep. Thoughts of his conversation with Dr. Susan Lewis ran continually in his brain. What did she think when she walked in on Carter with a needle about to enter his body. Drugs again? It was quite possible. Would she rat him out to Kerrie? Would his job be put on the line again? He just didn't know. The only thing for certain he did know was that he wasn't getting better. His restless nights, constant nausea, and searing pain in his back and leg, were constant reminders that he wasn't okay. He needed help, but didn't want the whole hospital to know that he, Dr. John T. Carter was sick. It felt like it had taken him three years to gain back the respect and dignity he had lost during his drug addiction.
Finally, around 4:00 A.M., Carter fell asleep only to be awakened at 5:00 A.M. by the sound of his pager. It read, "911!" He knew he had to go. No one ever played around with an emergency page. Carter slowly lifted himself out of bed. He couldn't gain control over his left leg or his back. The bedroom began to spin around him, and he fell to the floor.
Susan paced back and forth in the ambulance bay. It wasn't like Carter not to respond to a "911!" page. The more she waited, the more concerned she became. When the ambulance pulled up and began unloading victims from a 10 car pile-up, Susan forced her mind to focus on her job, and not worry about Carter. He was a big boy, and if he said he wasn't sick, he wasn't sick.
Unlike Susan, Kerrie Weaver was on the war path. Not only was the hospital short two docs, but the snow that continued to fall outside was bringing more patients to the hospital by the minute. Kerrie couldn't stand it any longer. She picked up the phone, and angrily dialed Carter's phone number. The phone rang...and rang...and rang, with no response. When the voice mail finally picked up, the message Kerrie left was not at all pleasant to say the least.
"He's not answering his pager or his phone! Why the hell isn't he here?", Kerrie yelled as she put the phone back on its' cradle. "Jerry! Call Chen, and tell her to get her ass in here if she wants a job tomorrow, and keep calling Carter!"
As Kerrie walked away, Jerry gave a salute. "Yes sir!"
"I saw that Jerry! Get back to work!" Jerry swore that woman had eyes in the back of her head!
Jerry picked up the phone and began dialing Chen's number as Susan walked up to the admit desk. "Jerry, have you seen Carter lately?," Susan asked casually.
"Weaver's on the war path looking for him. She called him a few minutes ago, and he didn't pick up the phone. He's not answering his pager either. I'm calling Chen to see if she can cover for him."
Susan walked over to the entrance to the emergency room, and felt a sudden surge of panic. What if Carter was wrong? What if he really was sick? What if the addiction had returned? Try as she might, these thoughts continued to plague Susan's mind for the rest of her shift. When it was finally over, she gathered a few basic medical supplies, and hurried out the door. She was going to help Carter no matter what he said. Susan had lost him once, and wasn't going to loose him again.
Dr. John T. Carter, III lay on the floor like a crumpled marionette. He was covered in sweat, even though the floor of his apartment was freezing cold. A small stream of blood ran down the right side of his face from a cut, which seemed to have occurred during the fall. Slowly, Carter began to gain consciousness. The bedroom was unrecognizable to him at first. He couldn't figure out where he was until he saw the smoking jacket Susan had given him, on the post of his bed. It all came back to him at that moment. The conversation with Susan, the pain, the accident, Lucy, the addiction, everything seemed to swim around in his head preventing him from being able to gain control of his body. Carter knew he couldn't hide any longer behind the stress of being an emergency room doctor. He needed help, and Susan was the only one he trusted.
As Susan parked her car a block from Carter's apartment, she began to second guess herself. All day she had kept reminding herself that Carter was a grown man. If something was really wrong, he would let her know in his own time. Still, she couldn't help that surge of panic that came over her each time she thought about their conversation in the exam room. It had seemed pretty clear to her that Carter was hiding something from her, and maybe even himself. Was she making the right decision? Who knew? She was already there, and was always welcome in his apartment, even had a key. When times got tough, Carter was the only one she could trust anymore, and the conversation would stay between closed doors.
Each moment that ticked by, Dr. John T. Carter, III slipped further and further into an unconscious state. He couldn't move. The pain in his leg and back continued to rip through him. Who would find him now? Suddenly he thought he heard a voice outside his door. It sounded almost like Susan's voice, but it seemed so very far away. Then the jingling of keys in the door, and the door opening.
"Carter? Carter?," Susan called as she entered the darkened apartment.
He tried to call out to her, but the connections weren't there to make his voice work. Susan's voice was getting closer. She had to see him.
Susan placed her bag on the table in the kitchen, switching a few lights on as she made her way to the bedroom. "Carter? Are you here?," her voice sounding more and more panicked each time she called his name. As she rounded the corner that led into the bedroom, she saw him, lying next to the bed. "John!," she yelled as she rushed over to his side. Carter knew he was in bad shape. No one ever called him by his first name unless something was wrong.
When she knelt down next to him, she knew he was sick. Sicker than he would've ever let on. Her hand touched his forehead, but began to burn from the fever that had captured Carter's body. "You're going to be okay, John. Just lie still.", she said trying to keep the panic in her voice to a minimum.
"Susan...", he tried to force out.
"Don't talk right now." ran to the kitchen, and grabbed her bag. The first thing she did was take his temperature. A searing 105.5 F. She needed to cool him down fast before he slipped into a coma or worse. Susan grabbed the phone that lay on Carter's night stand and dialed County.
"No.", Carter called out. He didn't want to be taken to the hospital, especially County. Everyone had witnessed his breakdown after the accident, and he felt as if he hadn't fully gained back their respect as a functioning human being. But who was he kidding? County had the best docs around, and whatever this thing that was surging through his body, he knew he would get the best treatment there.
Jerry stood at the admit desk, covered in paper, charts, and screaming patients. When the phone rang for about the five hundredth time that day, his cheerful greeting had all but disappeared. "What?!", he yelled as he picked up the phone.
The voice on the other end answered, "Jerry! Its Susan. I need an ambulance sent to Carter's apartment right away!"
"Is everything all right?", Jerry said in a sincere voice.
"Just do it Jerry!", Susan shouted through the phone. She knew that she didn't have time to explain, and with she hung up the phone.
"John, can you hear me?", Susan asked as she began to take the rest of Carter's vitals. "Stay with me John. I need you to stay awake."
Carter's eyes were vacant and distant. He tried to keep them open, but the weight of his eyelids seemed to force them shut. "Its...not...the...drugs...", he managed to squeak out.
"I believe you. But you have to let me help you. Where are you hurt? Is it your head? Back? Stomach?" With each word, Carter slowly nodded his head. "Alright. I'm going to start an I.V. to help you get hydrated. Just keep talking to me."
Susan had just finished starting an I.V. when the paramedics arrived. They took over the situation, and Susan was left to stare silently at Carter. He looked like a child laying there on the gurney. Once they had him somewhat stabilized, the paramedics readied him for transport.
"Dr. Lewis? You coming with us?", one of the paramedics asked.
"Please.", Susan said.
" Let's go."
With that, the paramedics slowly carried Dr. John T. Carter, III down the steps of his apartment, and out into the cold night air.
As the ambulance arrived at Cook County, Dr. John T. Carter, III started to seize. His high fever was beginning to affect his brain function. Whatever was attacking Carter's body was taking over fast. Susan knew he didn't have much time.
The next few hours were a blurr for Susan and the rest of the E.R. staff at Cook County General Hospital. The news of Dr. Carter's arrival in the E.R. traveled fast. Each staff member in his/her own way kept vigil, with Susan never leaving far from his side. Abby was there too, but Susan knew that there was no more competition between the two of them. Abby had been too complicated for Carter. He had finally moved on with his life, and on with his healing process. Susan knew now what it was like being the family of a patient in the E.R. No one would give her a straight answer about Carter's condition, even when Susan tried to read Carter's medical record, she wasn't given any definite diagnosis. The hours continued to tick by. He was stable for the time being, but it was anyone's guess how the prolonged fever would affect Carter in the end.
Susan sat by Carter's side all night and into the wee small hours of the morning. She had finally fallen asleep with her hand on his, when Carter opened his eyes for the first time since he had arrived at the hospital. Using all of the strength that he had, Carter squeezed Susan's hand. She looked so peaceful sitting next to the bed, that for a moment Carter wasn't sure whether he was still alive, or if he had died and gone to heaven, where Susan was his guardian angel.
"Susan...", Carter whispered.