Chapter 14: August. 12, 2000, 11:54PM, Exam Room 3 (John Carter's Point of
View):
I wake up laying on the gurney. What's happened? My stomach is killing me and my head is spinning. I remember being in the exam room. I was giving myself another dosage of morphine. Was that it? Did I give myself too much? No, I took as much as I normally do. But I did take some extra pills. Damn it. I can't believe this is happening. Now Doug will really think that I have a problem. And now he will be forced to tell Weaver and Mark what he saw. I can't let him do that. I have to get rid of the chart first. Maybe I can convince him, as well, that I.I don't know what I can convince him. I am a doctor and know what can and can't be taken together. But why should I have to convince him of anything? The morphine was prescribed to me. Granted the doctor who prescribed it didn't know that I have Vicodin as well, but the bottle still has my name on it.
"Welcome back, Carter," I hear Chuny say to me.
"Yeah, hi. Listen," Okay now it's time for some smooth talking, "I think I am feeling a lot better. Thanks for your help." I stand up and take my chart. I start taking pages out of the clipboard.
"Hey, hey!" Chuny says, "I know you are a doctor here, but you can't destroy your records!"
I don't answer and I am already getting dressed before I realize that there is an IV in my arm. "Shit," I mutter and slowly pull out the needle.
"Carter!" Chuny shouts at me. She is pissed at me now. "Get back in that bed and wait until Dr. Ross comes to release you!"
"I am a doctor, and I am releasing myself!"
"Carter!" It's Mark and Doug is standing behind him with his arms crossed. "What the hell is going on? Doug tells me that he found you in here of the floor. I need to know right now what is going on with you."
I am stunned. I don't know what to say. But I need to say something before Doug tells him. I need to get out of the hospital. Finally the words of a coward come to me. "I guess I fainted. Doug must have found me. I don't remember all that much, but I am feeling better. But I think it is best if I go home and rest for a day or two."
Now it's Doug's turn to talk. "I think it is best if you stay here for observation."
"I agree," says Mark.
"No, really, I am going to go home. Dr. Ross, can I speak with you in the lounge?" I walk out and hope that Doug is following me. He is.
When we get to the lounge he shouts at me, "What the fuck do you think you are doing?!"
"What do you mean?"
"You have a drug problem-"
"I am extremely offended at all of this. You keep accusing me of drug abuse, but you have yet to prove any of it!" I am fuming now. He has no right to call me an addict. "Who do you think you are?!"
"You know what, Carter," He steps closer to me, "Even if you aren't an addict, you still had an overdose. And you need to stay under hospital care for a little while longer."
I wasn't listening anymore. "If you tell anyone of your theories, I .I."
"You'll what? Quit? Sue me for emotional damage? There isn't anything you can do except get help or get high!"
"Stop talking!" I slam my locker closed.
"Fine, if you don't want my help, you can rot for all I care!" And that was the end of it. Doug left the lounge and I sit down on the sofa.
"How can this be happening to me?"
I wake up laying on the gurney. What's happened? My stomach is killing me and my head is spinning. I remember being in the exam room. I was giving myself another dosage of morphine. Was that it? Did I give myself too much? No, I took as much as I normally do. But I did take some extra pills. Damn it. I can't believe this is happening. Now Doug will really think that I have a problem. And now he will be forced to tell Weaver and Mark what he saw. I can't let him do that. I have to get rid of the chart first. Maybe I can convince him, as well, that I.I don't know what I can convince him. I am a doctor and know what can and can't be taken together. But why should I have to convince him of anything? The morphine was prescribed to me. Granted the doctor who prescribed it didn't know that I have Vicodin as well, but the bottle still has my name on it.
"Welcome back, Carter," I hear Chuny say to me.
"Yeah, hi. Listen," Okay now it's time for some smooth talking, "I think I am feeling a lot better. Thanks for your help." I stand up and take my chart. I start taking pages out of the clipboard.
"Hey, hey!" Chuny says, "I know you are a doctor here, but you can't destroy your records!"
I don't answer and I am already getting dressed before I realize that there is an IV in my arm. "Shit," I mutter and slowly pull out the needle.
"Carter!" Chuny shouts at me. She is pissed at me now. "Get back in that bed and wait until Dr. Ross comes to release you!"
"I am a doctor, and I am releasing myself!"
"Carter!" It's Mark and Doug is standing behind him with his arms crossed. "What the hell is going on? Doug tells me that he found you in here of the floor. I need to know right now what is going on with you."
I am stunned. I don't know what to say. But I need to say something before Doug tells him. I need to get out of the hospital. Finally the words of a coward come to me. "I guess I fainted. Doug must have found me. I don't remember all that much, but I am feeling better. But I think it is best if I go home and rest for a day or two."
Now it's Doug's turn to talk. "I think it is best if you stay here for observation."
"I agree," says Mark.
"No, really, I am going to go home. Dr. Ross, can I speak with you in the lounge?" I walk out and hope that Doug is following me. He is.
When we get to the lounge he shouts at me, "What the fuck do you think you are doing?!"
"What do you mean?"
"You have a drug problem-"
"I am extremely offended at all of this. You keep accusing me of drug abuse, but you have yet to prove any of it!" I am fuming now. He has no right to call me an addict. "Who do you think you are?!"
"You know what, Carter," He steps closer to me, "Even if you aren't an addict, you still had an overdose. And you need to stay under hospital care for a little while longer."
I wasn't listening anymore. "If you tell anyone of your theories, I .I."
"You'll what? Quit? Sue me for emotional damage? There isn't anything you can do except get help or get high!"
"Stop talking!" I slam my locker closed.
"Fine, if you don't want my help, you can rot for all I care!" And that was the end of it. Doug left the lounge and I sit down on the sofa.
"How can this be happening to me?"