Wow. That's really all I can seem to think of to say right now. I'd wanted
to be a doctor for about as long as I can remember, but I never thought it
would turn out quite like this. Somehow, though, I'm not really mad at the
guy- Paul, his name was. I was mad a few hours ago, but now I'm more
irritated- at him, at the entire Psych department, and maybeâE¦maybe even a
little bit at the ER staff. They were out there partying while I was lying
there, bleeding to death. And Carter, oh God, why did you put him through
this too, he never did anything wrong. Carter was really a great guy,
underneath his fake and pretentious exterior. But, I should really start at
the beginning of all this, before I completely confuse you all.
* * *
Yesterday was Valentine's Day- February 14, 2000. Was it really only yesterday? It seems like it was years ago. I came into work- well, really not work, since I was only a med student- at Cook County General's ER. It was a typical day in the ER, except that it looked nicer today. All of the nurses had decorated the place for Valentine's Day. Yosh was even passing out valentines to the staff and patients. Later that day, we were all going to have a big party. Everyone was looking forward to a break from the dreary Chicago winter outside.
I met Paul Sobrieki just as Dr. Corday and Dr. Greene were running in the door, still finishing their early-morning snowball fight. I hope they stay together- it's kind of refreshing to see a couple like them, so kind and carefree. Paul looked a little startled, but he seemed to take it all in stride. After asking all the usual questions, I determined that he was not in need of any urgent attention. I found him a room, and continued on with my rounds. I then presented to Dr. Carter, who seemed a little rushed- he didn't even want to check on my patient.
Next thing I knew, Paul was puking all over the place. When Carter came in to see him, he started screaming at me, demanding to know why I hadn't came and gotten him. Maybe, I wanted to say, if you had checked on him in the first place, this wouldn't be happening. Instead, I held my tongue, and simply told him that I had just been about to do that, but he didn't want to listen. Urgh! Carter could be so irritating sometimes.
When we began to do a spinal tap, Paul started to shake violently. I didn't know what to do.
"What do I do?" I asked.
"Hold him!" Carter yelled. Somehow, even though he seemed mad, his presence in a room always seemed to comfort me. I guess I knew nothing was going to happen, since he had made it very clear that both hospital policy and proper ethics forbid a doctor and a med student getting together, but I still felt somewhatâE¦safer with him around. As I pushed the needle into Paul's back, Carter kept encouraging me to go on. Finally, I made it.
"You got it," said Carter, almostâE¦proudly. "Crystal clear. Good job." Later, when the test results came back, they were negative. No meningitis, and he didn't appear to have pneumonia either. Unfortunately, I couldn't get ahold of his wife. "I think she's out getting me something for Valentine's Day," he said. I keep wondering, if she hadn't been, would I still be alive?
The two of us talked for a few minutes, and though it was innocent enough conversation, it seemed like there was something a little bit strange about him. When his friend came in to see him, he confirmed my worst suspicions. He told me about how Paul had been such a good student in college, but this year (they were going to law school together) he was just going downhill. I told Carter that I thought he might have a psychiatric problem, but he just brushed me off. "Not now, Lucy, he called as he walked away. Did he even remember that he had once wanted to be with me? Soon after, he told me about how Paul had almost gotten in a fight with his friend- as though it was my fault.
"He might be schizophrenic," I said.
"Fine. Page 'em [psych], get 'em down here, hand this guy off. You've got medical patients waiting," he replied. It was times like these I didn't know whether I wanted to smack him or kiss him. I don't think he was really all that mad; he just seemed a little preoccupied. Unfortunately, that preoccupation may have almost cost him his life.
Later that day, I found Paul rummaging around the lounge. I suppose that should have tipped me off to something, but at that time all I really wanted to do was get him back to his room, and get to the party we were having. I continued calling psych, but as usual, they were "backed up", and as usual, Carter wanted to blame it on me.
"Fine, Carter, just forget it!" I yelled as he walked away. Forget what I said earlier- right then, I definitely wanted to smack him. Before the party started, I went into Exam Room 3 to check on Paul one more time.
"Paul?" I called. "Paul, where are you?" The room was all darkened- the lights were off, and the blinds were pulled shut. I didn't see him anywhere. Suddenly, I felt two strong hands on my shoulders. I twisted and turned, trying to get away, but the hands' grip just got tighter and tighter.
"You can't get away now," a voice said.
"Paul," I gasped, "is that you?"
"I liked you, Lucy, I really did, but you just couldn't give up. You had to keep trying to find out 'what was wrong with me'. Well guess what- there isn't anything wrong with me. All I needed was a good night's rest, and for everyone to leave me alone!" he screamed, still holding me tight. Suddenly, he released one of my shoulders. I tried to get away, but he was too quick. All at once, I felt a searing pain in my back.
"Aaaaaah!" I screamed, but the music from the party was playing so loud that no one could hear me. As Paul released me, I fell to the ground. I thought he ran away, but I wasn't sure. I crawled over to the side of the bed, trying to stay conscious. But the floor was so cold, and my legs were starting to go numb.
All of a sudden, I heard the door swing open. As the figure bent down to pick up a valentine that had fallen on the ground, I thought that I recognized who it was. God, no, please don't let it be who I think it is, I prayed. Then, I heard a voice moan, and the person fell to the ground. As the person crawled around, he got over to the other side of the bed. It was Carter. As he saw me, his eyes widened with disbelief.
"Lucy?" he whispered. That was the last thing I heard before I drifted off into unconsciousness.
* * *
Yesterday was Valentine's Day- February 14, 2000. Was it really only yesterday? It seems like it was years ago. I came into work- well, really not work, since I was only a med student- at Cook County General's ER. It was a typical day in the ER, except that it looked nicer today. All of the nurses had decorated the place for Valentine's Day. Yosh was even passing out valentines to the staff and patients. Later that day, we were all going to have a big party. Everyone was looking forward to a break from the dreary Chicago winter outside.
I met Paul Sobrieki just as Dr. Corday and Dr. Greene were running in the door, still finishing their early-morning snowball fight. I hope they stay together- it's kind of refreshing to see a couple like them, so kind and carefree. Paul looked a little startled, but he seemed to take it all in stride. After asking all the usual questions, I determined that he was not in need of any urgent attention. I found him a room, and continued on with my rounds. I then presented to Dr. Carter, who seemed a little rushed- he didn't even want to check on my patient.
Next thing I knew, Paul was puking all over the place. When Carter came in to see him, he started screaming at me, demanding to know why I hadn't came and gotten him. Maybe, I wanted to say, if you had checked on him in the first place, this wouldn't be happening. Instead, I held my tongue, and simply told him that I had just been about to do that, but he didn't want to listen. Urgh! Carter could be so irritating sometimes.
When we began to do a spinal tap, Paul started to shake violently. I didn't know what to do.
"What do I do?" I asked.
"Hold him!" Carter yelled. Somehow, even though he seemed mad, his presence in a room always seemed to comfort me. I guess I knew nothing was going to happen, since he had made it very clear that both hospital policy and proper ethics forbid a doctor and a med student getting together, but I still felt somewhatâE¦safer with him around. As I pushed the needle into Paul's back, Carter kept encouraging me to go on. Finally, I made it.
"You got it," said Carter, almostâE¦proudly. "Crystal clear. Good job." Later, when the test results came back, they were negative. No meningitis, and he didn't appear to have pneumonia either. Unfortunately, I couldn't get ahold of his wife. "I think she's out getting me something for Valentine's Day," he said. I keep wondering, if she hadn't been, would I still be alive?
The two of us talked for a few minutes, and though it was innocent enough conversation, it seemed like there was something a little bit strange about him. When his friend came in to see him, he confirmed my worst suspicions. He told me about how Paul had been such a good student in college, but this year (they were going to law school together) he was just going downhill. I told Carter that I thought he might have a psychiatric problem, but he just brushed me off. "Not now, Lucy, he called as he walked away. Did he even remember that he had once wanted to be with me? Soon after, he told me about how Paul had almost gotten in a fight with his friend- as though it was my fault.
"He might be schizophrenic," I said.
"Fine. Page 'em [psych], get 'em down here, hand this guy off. You've got medical patients waiting," he replied. It was times like these I didn't know whether I wanted to smack him or kiss him. I don't think he was really all that mad; he just seemed a little preoccupied. Unfortunately, that preoccupation may have almost cost him his life.
Later that day, I found Paul rummaging around the lounge. I suppose that should have tipped me off to something, but at that time all I really wanted to do was get him back to his room, and get to the party we were having. I continued calling psych, but as usual, they were "backed up", and as usual, Carter wanted to blame it on me.
"Fine, Carter, just forget it!" I yelled as he walked away. Forget what I said earlier- right then, I definitely wanted to smack him. Before the party started, I went into Exam Room 3 to check on Paul one more time.
"Paul?" I called. "Paul, where are you?" The room was all darkened- the lights were off, and the blinds were pulled shut. I didn't see him anywhere. Suddenly, I felt two strong hands on my shoulders. I twisted and turned, trying to get away, but the hands' grip just got tighter and tighter.
"You can't get away now," a voice said.
"Paul," I gasped, "is that you?"
"I liked you, Lucy, I really did, but you just couldn't give up. You had to keep trying to find out 'what was wrong with me'. Well guess what- there isn't anything wrong with me. All I needed was a good night's rest, and for everyone to leave me alone!" he screamed, still holding me tight. Suddenly, he released one of my shoulders. I tried to get away, but he was too quick. All at once, I felt a searing pain in my back.
"Aaaaaah!" I screamed, but the music from the party was playing so loud that no one could hear me. As Paul released me, I fell to the ground. I thought he ran away, but I wasn't sure. I crawled over to the side of the bed, trying to stay conscious. But the floor was so cold, and my legs were starting to go numb.
All of a sudden, I heard the door swing open. As the figure bent down to pick up a valentine that had fallen on the ground, I thought that I recognized who it was. God, no, please don't let it be who I think it is, I prayed. Then, I heard a voice moan, and the person fell to the ground. As the person crawled around, he got over to the other side of the bed. It was Carter. As he saw me, his eyes widened with disbelief.
"Lucy?" he whispered. That was the last thing I heard before I drifted off into unconsciousness.