The walk was long, and the night's events and his weariness made it all the longer. The rolling clouds of threatening rain blocked the stars in the night sky, and the dark city of Chicago was darker than usual as Carter rounded the corner of the park and headed down another block of seemingly endless sidewalk.
He had so much that he wanted to say, so much that he had thought of. Insightfulness came only to those who didn't want to adopt comfort or "someone to talk to" as a close companion. "Sorry, Dr. Greene," he muttered under his breath, burying his chin downward into the slip of his coat, and his hands into his pockets. "I have too much pride for that. And not enough dignity to let go."
It was a dark thought, but it was mere truth to the reality he had told the attending earlier. He didn't know what to expect at work today, and his mind was numb to any real scathing. Yet, conscious and alert, he made his way down street after street, never stopping once to take a break or ponder any further.
Then there was the hospital: this barely visible building that was practically carved into the mountain of skyscrapers, hotels, office buildings, and restaurants. Some days it was a very real, pretty thing to look at: the noonday sun beaming down its gentle rays upon the glitter of a manmade world, while in the perfect night the city would be even more radiant against the extreme darkness of the night sky, the glow of the moon, and the spotlights of stars.
Today, Chicago was as the rest of his life was: dusty, dreary, and nothing could seem to get through that threatening cloud above him which just threatened harder as it got darker and darker while the day went on. It was poor, and he knew he would be walking home in it.
The doors of County were none the kinder. "Chuny, if Dr. Greene asks, I'm busy." Carter shed his overcoat, nodding the nurse a hello with a somewhat friendly smile.
"He's with a patient in three, and I'll do no such thing. But you can take the guy in two, and the little girl in four." She handed him two charts.
"Why the little girl? Where's Cleo?" Carter asked, shoving his jacket onto a coat rack that stood in front of the lounge.
"She's not on tonight, and the pedes department is busy with rotation scheduling for next semester med. students." Chuny followed him along as he walked to the exam rooms. "So they asked us to get our own guys, ones that were good with kids. I said, 'Sure, I know a guy. Real swell one, goes by the name of Carter'-"
"All right, all right, I'll take her. Very nice, Chuny, I'll see you later." Carter rolled his eyes at the Latino with a coy smile before pushing the door to exam two open.
And there was Dr. Greene, sitting on top of the exam table staring straight at him.
Carter blinked back, knowing immediately the exact reason for his being there. "Well, if he isn't here in all of his glory. Is there a patient here, or is my time being wasted?"
"Dr. Carter, you might want to rethink the path you're on."
Carter's eyes only glared back with vengeance, and there was little pause before he went on. "If you think I'm going to apologize or explain the fentanyl, you're wrong." Dr. Greene looked surprised. Did Carter just come right out and admit it? "I took it. I took about seventy-five milligrams of it." He flung the chart down on the small table beside him, and it landed with a clattering bang.
"Carter, that stuff is dangerous. It was meant for patients who have just had their side split into two separate pieces, or have had parts of their heart glued back together-"
"Well, guess what, Dr. Greene?" Carter burst in. "That's me! I'm the guy that had his backside busted open with a cake knife! I'm the one who's had his colon, pancreas, and liver operated on all in the same day!" His voice increased as he went on, and at this point he was only a few feet away from Mark. "And you know what, Dr. Greene?" Carter asked, almost into the attending's face. "I'm the guy who had his heart busted open by a psychopathic maniac the day he took my best friend from me with a six inch blade."
Dr. Greene flinched only once. It was difficult to look into Carter's eyes, to stare into their alignment of fury and still try and right the wrong that existed in Carter's mind and bloodstream. "Taking the drugs won't make anything go away forever, Carter."
"Oh, we're past that at this point, aren't we? I mean, isn't forever just another word for the hope of more good old times?" Carter said sarcastically, titling his head. "You may not recognize this fact, but no matter what I do, this will never go away forever. The pain, on the other hand-"
"Can be controlled with prescribed narcotics. Not something you found lying around that was meant for a medical emergency."
Carter stared at Dr. Green for a moment, then let out a raging breath of disbelief and shook his head back and forth. "Good idea. Better put me back on the Tylenol and Advil. Those numb things like stab wounds and kidney lacerations. Good call on that one, Dr. Greene."
"You have pills all over your bathroom. I'm sure they're not Tums, Dr. Carter."
Carter crossed his arms and stood back a little. "l also have two other needles of a watered-down pain suppressant that my generous surgical team prescribed me after the operation, neosporin, band-aids, and mouthwash, but what I'm really wondering is did you get a good look at the great paint job and matching towels-"
"Carter!" Dr. Greene stood up, getting closer to Carter than he had to him moments earlier. "You may not like you're current situation. You may regret it everyday of your life, and it may consume your thoughts and your emotions, but you have to find another way to get rid of this. I will not saying anything to anyone now about the needle. But if it happens again, I won't be the only one standing here confronting you about it." He paused, watching Carter's slightly weakened reaction. "You already have the mental and physical pain. Don't let it be accompanied by bitterness and noncommunication. Now... there are about twenty close associates here who are willing to talk this out with you. Just talk to them."
There was barely a brush of the shoulder before Dr. Greene had passed Carter and gone out the door. Carter stared at the opposite side of the room for a moment, the sound of silence ringing over his now settled emotion. After a while, he bent down to pick up the charts, with slow and steady motions, before sitting down to gather his thoughts on the table.
"Chuny?"
"Yes, Dr. Greene?"
"Could you make sure that all of the narcotics stay locked in the medicine cabinet in trauma four?"
"All of them?"
"Yeah. Here, here's the key," he slipped a silver key across the admit counter. "And just, whenever you get a chance, get them all and just keep them in there."
"Um... all right, Dr. Greene. But there's a trauma coming in, now, so I'm sort of a little busy paging Carter."
"No! No, don't page Carter."
Chuny looked slightly more confused than she had moments prior. "Why? Did you guys get in a fight, or something?"
"No, it's not that. It's just that he's under a lot of stress..." It was stretching the truth slightly. "I just don't think it's a good idea to put any more pressure on him than we need to. He needs to uh... sit it out and wind down a little."
"Okay, then. I'll page Benton."
"Thanks." Dr Greene smiled and turned, walking down another long corridor on his way to pick up x-rays. "Carter... you'd better wind down a little..." he muttered, glancing into an exam room on the way there.
Inside was Carter, smiling as he was assessing a small girl, about eight or nine, with the utmost of care. He watched for a moment, not really thinking a single thought, but letting the mass of reality and facts linger above his head. Slowly, he turned to continue down the long corridor to X-Ray.
He had so much that he wanted to say, so much that he had thought of. Insightfulness came only to those who didn't want to adopt comfort or "someone to talk to" as a close companion. "Sorry, Dr. Greene," he muttered under his breath, burying his chin downward into the slip of his coat, and his hands into his pockets. "I have too much pride for that. And not enough dignity to let go."
It was a dark thought, but it was mere truth to the reality he had told the attending earlier. He didn't know what to expect at work today, and his mind was numb to any real scathing. Yet, conscious and alert, he made his way down street after street, never stopping once to take a break or ponder any further.
Then there was the hospital: this barely visible building that was practically carved into the mountain of skyscrapers, hotels, office buildings, and restaurants. Some days it was a very real, pretty thing to look at: the noonday sun beaming down its gentle rays upon the glitter of a manmade world, while in the perfect night the city would be even more radiant against the extreme darkness of the night sky, the glow of the moon, and the spotlights of stars.
Today, Chicago was as the rest of his life was: dusty, dreary, and nothing could seem to get through that threatening cloud above him which just threatened harder as it got darker and darker while the day went on. It was poor, and he knew he would be walking home in it.
The doors of County were none the kinder. "Chuny, if Dr. Greene asks, I'm busy." Carter shed his overcoat, nodding the nurse a hello with a somewhat friendly smile.
"He's with a patient in three, and I'll do no such thing. But you can take the guy in two, and the little girl in four." She handed him two charts.
"Why the little girl? Where's Cleo?" Carter asked, shoving his jacket onto a coat rack that stood in front of the lounge.
"She's not on tonight, and the pedes department is busy with rotation scheduling for next semester med. students." Chuny followed him along as he walked to the exam rooms. "So they asked us to get our own guys, ones that were good with kids. I said, 'Sure, I know a guy. Real swell one, goes by the name of Carter'-"
"All right, all right, I'll take her. Very nice, Chuny, I'll see you later." Carter rolled his eyes at the Latino with a coy smile before pushing the door to exam two open.
And there was Dr. Greene, sitting on top of the exam table staring straight at him.
Carter blinked back, knowing immediately the exact reason for his being there. "Well, if he isn't here in all of his glory. Is there a patient here, or is my time being wasted?"
"Dr. Carter, you might want to rethink the path you're on."
Carter's eyes only glared back with vengeance, and there was little pause before he went on. "If you think I'm going to apologize or explain the fentanyl, you're wrong." Dr. Greene looked surprised. Did Carter just come right out and admit it? "I took it. I took about seventy-five milligrams of it." He flung the chart down on the small table beside him, and it landed with a clattering bang.
"Carter, that stuff is dangerous. It was meant for patients who have just had their side split into two separate pieces, or have had parts of their heart glued back together-"
"Well, guess what, Dr. Greene?" Carter burst in. "That's me! I'm the guy that had his backside busted open with a cake knife! I'm the one who's had his colon, pancreas, and liver operated on all in the same day!" His voice increased as he went on, and at this point he was only a few feet away from Mark. "And you know what, Dr. Greene?" Carter asked, almost into the attending's face. "I'm the guy who had his heart busted open by a psychopathic maniac the day he took my best friend from me with a six inch blade."
Dr. Greene flinched only once. It was difficult to look into Carter's eyes, to stare into their alignment of fury and still try and right the wrong that existed in Carter's mind and bloodstream. "Taking the drugs won't make anything go away forever, Carter."
"Oh, we're past that at this point, aren't we? I mean, isn't forever just another word for the hope of more good old times?" Carter said sarcastically, titling his head. "You may not recognize this fact, but no matter what I do, this will never go away forever. The pain, on the other hand-"
"Can be controlled with prescribed narcotics. Not something you found lying around that was meant for a medical emergency."
Carter stared at Dr. Green for a moment, then let out a raging breath of disbelief and shook his head back and forth. "Good idea. Better put me back on the Tylenol and Advil. Those numb things like stab wounds and kidney lacerations. Good call on that one, Dr. Greene."
"You have pills all over your bathroom. I'm sure they're not Tums, Dr. Carter."
Carter crossed his arms and stood back a little. "l also have two other needles of a watered-down pain suppressant that my generous surgical team prescribed me after the operation, neosporin, band-aids, and mouthwash, but what I'm really wondering is did you get a good look at the great paint job and matching towels-"
"Carter!" Dr. Greene stood up, getting closer to Carter than he had to him moments earlier. "You may not like you're current situation. You may regret it everyday of your life, and it may consume your thoughts and your emotions, but you have to find another way to get rid of this. I will not saying anything to anyone now about the needle. But if it happens again, I won't be the only one standing here confronting you about it." He paused, watching Carter's slightly weakened reaction. "You already have the mental and physical pain. Don't let it be accompanied by bitterness and noncommunication. Now... there are about twenty close associates here who are willing to talk this out with you. Just talk to them."
There was barely a brush of the shoulder before Dr. Greene had passed Carter and gone out the door. Carter stared at the opposite side of the room for a moment, the sound of silence ringing over his now settled emotion. After a while, he bent down to pick up the charts, with slow and steady motions, before sitting down to gather his thoughts on the table.
"Chuny?"
"Yes, Dr. Greene?"
"Could you make sure that all of the narcotics stay locked in the medicine cabinet in trauma four?"
"All of them?"
"Yeah. Here, here's the key," he slipped a silver key across the admit counter. "And just, whenever you get a chance, get them all and just keep them in there."
"Um... all right, Dr. Greene. But there's a trauma coming in, now, so I'm sort of a little busy paging Carter."
"No! No, don't page Carter."
Chuny looked slightly more confused than she had moments prior. "Why? Did you guys get in a fight, or something?"
"No, it's not that. It's just that he's under a lot of stress..." It was stretching the truth slightly. "I just don't think it's a good idea to put any more pressure on him than we need to. He needs to uh... sit it out and wind down a little."
"Okay, then. I'll page Benton."
"Thanks." Dr Greene smiled and turned, walking down another long corridor on his way to pick up x-rays. "Carter... you'd better wind down a little..." he muttered, glancing into an exam room on the way there.
Inside was Carter, smiling as he was assessing a small girl, about eight or nine, with the utmost of care. He watched for a moment, not really thinking a single thought, but letting the mass of reality and facts linger above his head. Slowly, he turned to continue down the long corridor to X-Ray.