The poets always say it's darkest before dawn.
The mess tent was empty aside from the single surgeon hunched over a mug of lukewarm coffee. Hawkeye looked up as the man sat down beside him.
"How'd the poker game go? Manage to win some without me there?"
"No. Radar took the whole pot. How's the patient?"
Sidney saw the worry flash across Hawkeye's face. "He's not out of the woods, and the scar should be impressive, but I think he'll make it."
"How have you been Hawkeye?"
"About the same. Tired. Bored when I'm not too busy to think. More children's blood then I ever want to see. Sorry I don't have any exciting problems for you Sid. Maybe I'm just getting too used to this place." He stared into his coffee.
"Does that bother you Hawkeye?"
"Hmm? Oh, just trying to read the coffee beans," the grin faded. He never could quite manage to hide anything from this man with the New York accent and probing eyes. "I didn't see you wheel your couch in with you."
Sidney continued to sit silently, knowing the other man would fill the silence soon enough. "I guess it scares me. If I'm used to this place, what will happen if I ever manage to go home? Will I ever outrun this place? Stop remembering it, dreaming about it?"
"You know what they say. Time heals all wounds."
"What about the wounds that aren't real? I'm a doctor. I know how to heal just about any damage done to the body. But I don't know about the wounds to the mind, the bad memories, the things that make a person crazy. I don't know how to heal the things you can't just stitch up and bandage, or cut out. That's your territory."
"Tell me Hawkeye, how does the body heal from a wound?"
Hawkeye looked at him strangely. "Didn't you go to med school?" At the silent answer, he sighed, knowing Sidney could patiently sit there forever until he answered. "The platelets in the blood gather at the site of the wound and create a patch to stop the bleeding. Other molecules called heparins act as anti-coagulants to ensure the patch doesn't become too large. Once the bleeding has stopped the body slowly begins to knit together the damaged tissue, making new skin, muscle, blood vessels and connective tissue. Eventually it's all working again, but it's never the same as it once was."
He finds himself tracing a long scar on the back of his hand. "The scar tissue is a different consistency then the original tissue, tougher, shinier, more rigid. Sometimes, especially if it's over a joint the area is stiff, the limb never quite works the same way again. But a person gets used to it, adjusts. Eventually you forget the scar is there, but every so often a twinge of stiffness, a play of light and you remember it again. But most of the time it's just a part of you and you go on."
Sidney nods at the explanation. "Mental wounds are much the same. People heal, figurative scar tissue builds over the damaged areas. As time passes, the memories fade, aren't omnipresent. I imagine when you go home, that's what will happen. It'll be hard, but you'll adjust. And eventually Korea will be a scarred over memory. You won't be the same, but you won't be crippled. And sometimes something will happen and for a while you'll remember, but most days it will be just a part of you and you'll continue with your life."
"I guess if the body is so good at healing, the mind needs to be too, huh?"
"Yes. But to heal a mind you can't just use stitches or a bandage and let the cells do the work. Mostly, you just need time. It really is the great healer."
Hawkeye rises, stifling a yawn. "I need to head back to post-op and then to bed. See you next week Sid?"
"I'll come with aces up my sleeve."
Pausing at the door, Hawkeye turns back to look at the psychiatrist. "Thanks Sidney."
He nods. "My couch always has room for you."
The mess tent was empty aside from the single surgeon hunched over a mug of lukewarm coffee. Hawkeye looked up as the man sat down beside him.
"How'd the poker game go? Manage to win some without me there?"
"No. Radar took the whole pot. How's the patient?"
Sidney saw the worry flash across Hawkeye's face. "He's not out of the woods, and the scar should be impressive, but I think he'll make it."
"How have you been Hawkeye?"
"About the same. Tired. Bored when I'm not too busy to think. More children's blood then I ever want to see. Sorry I don't have any exciting problems for you Sid. Maybe I'm just getting too used to this place." He stared into his coffee.
"Does that bother you Hawkeye?"
"Hmm? Oh, just trying to read the coffee beans," the grin faded. He never could quite manage to hide anything from this man with the New York accent and probing eyes. "I didn't see you wheel your couch in with you."
Sidney continued to sit silently, knowing the other man would fill the silence soon enough. "I guess it scares me. If I'm used to this place, what will happen if I ever manage to go home? Will I ever outrun this place? Stop remembering it, dreaming about it?"
"You know what they say. Time heals all wounds."
"What about the wounds that aren't real? I'm a doctor. I know how to heal just about any damage done to the body. But I don't know about the wounds to the mind, the bad memories, the things that make a person crazy. I don't know how to heal the things you can't just stitch up and bandage, or cut out. That's your territory."
"Tell me Hawkeye, how does the body heal from a wound?"
Hawkeye looked at him strangely. "Didn't you go to med school?" At the silent answer, he sighed, knowing Sidney could patiently sit there forever until he answered. "The platelets in the blood gather at the site of the wound and create a patch to stop the bleeding. Other molecules called heparins act as anti-coagulants to ensure the patch doesn't become too large. Once the bleeding has stopped the body slowly begins to knit together the damaged tissue, making new skin, muscle, blood vessels and connective tissue. Eventually it's all working again, but it's never the same as it once was."
He finds himself tracing a long scar on the back of his hand. "The scar tissue is a different consistency then the original tissue, tougher, shinier, more rigid. Sometimes, especially if it's over a joint the area is stiff, the limb never quite works the same way again. But a person gets used to it, adjusts. Eventually you forget the scar is there, but every so often a twinge of stiffness, a play of light and you remember it again. But most of the time it's just a part of you and you go on."
Sidney nods at the explanation. "Mental wounds are much the same. People heal, figurative scar tissue builds over the damaged areas. As time passes, the memories fade, aren't omnipresent. I imagine when you go home, that's what will happen. It'll be hard, but you'll adjust. And eventually Korea will be a scarred over memory. You won't be the same, but you won't be crippled. And sometimes something will happen and for a while you'll remember, but most days it will be just a part of you and you'll continue with your life."
"I guess if the body is so good at healing, the mind needs to be too, huh?"
"Yes. But to heal a mind you can't just use stitches or a bandage and let the cells do the work. Mostly, you just need time. It really is the great healer."
Hawkeye rises, stifling a yawn. "I need to head back to post-op and then to bed. See you next week Sid?"
"I'll come with aces up my sleeve."
Pausing at the door, Hawkeye turns back to look at the psychiatrist. "Thanks Sidney."
He nods. "My couch always has room for you."