Chapter 3: Same day, NOON, Ambulance Bay (Mark Greene's Point of View):
Something is wrong with Carter, and I can feel it. Why does he keep closing us out? I want to help him so bad, but I don't know what to help with. I sit here talking to him about his smoking, but I can't concentrate. I remember when he was a bright-eyed med-student. But everything changes. Mr. Sobriki destroyed his life. Carter now only has a negative outlook on life and the future. How can I help him?
As I leave to go back into the hospital, I glance back at the young doctor. Something catches my eye, but I don't get a good look. It was scars on Carter's wrist. Scars? It takes me a minute to process this. Oh my goodness! Is Carter suicidal? How can he be? It must have been a shadow.or my imagination. I know Carter has been depressed lately, but after nearly losing his life a few months ago, wouldn't he now want to live it to the fullest?
I make my way into the staff lounge and to my locker. On the sofa, Carol and Doug sit, cuddling.
I don't turn around when I say, "Have you guys noticed anything odd about Carter? I mean, has he been acting different than before, or is it just me?" I turn and look at them.
They had stopped cuddling and are now looking at the floor, as if they had done something wrong.
"No," Doug says as he looks at me, "It's not you. I noticed it to. But I figured that it was just posttraumatic stress. After what you told me happened to him, I think any of us would act a little different."
"Yeah, I guess."
Carol speaks up, "Is he seeing anyone?"
"He says he is," I reply.
"But you don't believe him, do you?" Doug asks.
"No." I close my locker. "Could you keep an eye on him, though? I thought I saw some scars on his wrist."
Carol gasps, "You don't think he-"
"No, at least I hope not." And with that I walk out of the lounge and onto my duties.
Something is wrong with Carter, and I can feel it. Why does he keep closing us out? I want to help him so bad, but I don't know what to help with. I sit here talking to him about his smoking, but I can't concentrate. I remember when he was a bright-eyed med-student. But everything changes. Mr. Sobriki destroyed his life. Carter now only has a negative outlook on life and the future. How can I help him?
As I leave to go back into the hospital, I glance back at the young doctor. Something catches my eye, but I don't get a good look. It was scars on Carter's wrist. Scars? It takes me a minute to process this. Oh my goodness! Is Carter suicidal? How can he be? It must have been a shadow.or my imagination. I know Carter has been depressed lately, but after nearly losing his life a few months ago, wouldn't he now want to live it to the fullest?
I make my way into the staff lounge and to my locker. On the sofa, Carol and Doug sit, cuddling.
I don't turn around when I say, "Have you guys noticed anything odd about Carter? I mean, has he been acting different than before, or is it just me?" I turn and look at them.
They had stopped cuddling and are now looking at the floor, as if they had done something wrong.
"No," Doug says as he looks at me, "It's not you. I noticed it to. But I figured that it was just posttraumatic stress. After what you told me happened to him, I think any of us would act a little different."
"Yeah, I guess."
Carol speaks up, "Is he seeing anyone?"
"He says he is," I reply.
"But you don't believe him, do you?" Doug asks.
"No." I close my locker. "Could you keep an eye on him, though? I thought I saw some scars on his wrist."
Carol gasps, "You don't think he-"
"No, at least I hope not." And with that I walk out of the lounge and onto my duties.