1
"Dr. Paul Elliot to reception please. Dr. Paul Elliot to reception"
Paul awoke from his slumber at the call of his name. The same voice for the past five years had been calling his name. He still wished it wouldn't. Looking around the staff room he noticed all the other nurses and doctors were out on rounds, which made him wonder how long his call had been waiting. He got up and went to check himself in the cracked mirror. He looked rough. Unshaven, floppy brown hair and bags under his eyes that put the darkest tea bag to shame. He rummaged in his lab pocket for his glasses, but found his bad habit instead.
To early to drink? Yeah, maybe just a little too early.
He rummaged in his other pocket and pulled out his glasses, rubbing them with his lab coat first, then neatly sliding the behind his ears.
"Dr. Paul Elliot to reception please. Dr. Paul Elliot to reception"
the voice sounded more agitated now, so the call must be important. He needn't worry though; reception was just around the corner, although it would have been more fun if he were on the second or third floor, then he could really drag it out.
He strolled out of the staff room, into the main foyer of the hospital. Beepers were going off everywhere and there was the usual hustle and bustle of doctors and nurses rushing about, patients wandering around like lost sheep, and of course children crying. He walked up the corridor, passing the GP's rooms, turned the corner and found Rosalyn staring steely eyes at him from behind reception.
"Hey Ros, did you call me, I couldn't be sure?"
He couldn't help but smirk as he delivered his line, but Rosalyn was quick with her tongue, as usual.
"Listen here Dr. Elliot, I don't need to take this bull from you, so just pick up the phone and get out of my face."
"Nice to see you too Ros!"
For a woman in her fifties, she sure was feisty. He leaned over the desk and grabbed the black receiver.
"Doctor Elliot speaking, may I ask who's calling?"
There was silence, and then a familiar voice played over the phone.
"Paul, its me, I just phoned to ask if you had found a place yet? I packed your stuff, you need to pick it up soon, or else I'm dumping it."
It was Helen, his wife, or should that be ex? The divorce wasn't final yet.
"Hey, yeah, I've found a place, I'll come pick up my stuff later today. Is that all?"
More silence
"No. I wanted to see how you were doing. Maybe I can come up to yours and we can talk?"
I cant believe this…
"Yeah, sure, you could do that. But hospital waiting rooms freak you out, so you wouldn't like my living room. I'll see you later."
With that he hung up the phone.
"Problems Dr. Elliot? Wife kicked you out has she? I've been wondering why you stay so late and get in so early. Is it because you live in the staff room?"
Paul threw Rosalyn a dirty look as he walked away.
No, its never too early to start drinking…
"We found him in the toilet, passed out. We think he was drinking. What more evidence do you need than the bottle we found next to him… yes Dr. Sullivan, we shall bring him up to your office. No Dr. Sullivan, no one else knows about his little problem. Right away Dr. Sullivan. Lets go Harry, we've to take the Doctor to Sullivan."
Paul's head was thumping. He opened his eyes, but all he could make out were blurry images. He sure as hell wasn't in the toilet stall anymore. The chair he was on felt so soft and comfy, he just wanted to go back to sleep. Then something moved. A blurry white shape, getting larger, coming closer.
"Paul, are you awake? How is your head? Sore I'm betting. That was quite a bit of alcohol you were drinking. Do you want to talk about it?"
It took Paul a second or two to realise that it was Dr. Sullivan, the hospital director, who was speaking.
"Uh, Dr. Sullivan, I can't see. What's wrong with my eyes?"
The blurry shape moved backwards and lowered, sitting at a desk Paul assumed.
"Its an eye mask Paul, you can take it off now."
Paul felt his eyes for the first time and instead of soft flesh he felt soft rubber. He pulled off the mask and the room became clear. He then realised that Sullivan know about his problem.
"Its nothing serious sir, honest. I've just being going through a bit of a rough patch. With the divorce and all…"
He could tell that Sullivan wasn't buying it.
"Paul, you know your one of our best doctors, but I cannot have an alcoholic on my team. Now, I'm willing to give you a second chance, but only if you promise to stop this. And one other thing. There is a new patient in ward C. Highly unstable, but I reckon you could work with him."
Paul sat upright at the words highly unstable.
"Why do you think I would be good to work with him? You know I'm not the best psychologist. Besides, my problem may interfere…"
Sullivan glanced over his half moon glasses.
"Now Dr. Elliot, you just agreed to quit that little problem. Plus, this patient is not like the others. He is just a boy. Lost someone very dear to him. You seem to be able to connect with patients like him. The only problem is, he is on suicide watch. That's why he is unstable. Here is his file."
Sullivan slid a brown folder across his desk. Paul went over to the mahogany table to get it when he noticed the name on the folder.
Ethan… Why does that name seem so familiar? I don't know anyone called Ethan…
"Okay Dr. Sullivan, I'll take a look at it. Has he been admitted yet?"
Sullivan looked up from the paper work he was looking over.
"Not yet Paul, later on today sometime. I'll send out a call for you once he arrives. That will be all, Dr. Elliot."
Sullivan looked back to his paper work. Paul took the file from the desk and left the office.