Chapter 21: August. 29, 2000, 2PM, Admit Desk (Mark Greene's Point of
View):
Things have been going slow today, thank God. I've been on for ten hours and we only have had one trauma.
"Trauma coming in!" Randi shouts.
I spoke too soon; "When?" I ask.
"Now-" and the doors burst open with paramedics pushing a gurney.
One of them starts announcing, "Thirty year old male, vertical lacerations on each wrist, head lac, small back lacs, and possible morphine overdose."
I finally look down and see that underneath all the blood, there lies Carter.
"My God! Carter!" I shout.
"You know him?" asks the paramedic.
"He's one of your doctors. What happened to him?"
"It's obviously suicide, doc-"
No, I mean how'd it happen?"
"Don't know; ask the guy that came in with us."
I look over my shoulder and see Peter still standing by the door, staring at Carter's gurney rolling away, with me by its side.
"Peter!" I shout, but he doesn't move. I see Jing Mei round a corner and shout, "Dr. Chen, take this," and I run over to Peter. In the background I hear Jing Mei say, "Oh shit! It's Carter!" but I am already coming up to Peter. Closer now, I can see that his clothes are drenched in blood and his hands and part of his face are coated too.
Before I speak, I can barely hear Peter mumble, "I should go help," and he takes a step forward.
Of course I stop him. He is in a mental shock. This is the second time his former student has been a trauma victim. And not just any student, it's Carter, a man who is like a little brother to Peter.
"No, Peter," my hands are on his shoulders. He still hasn't looked at me, he just keeps staring at the trauma room where Carter is being worked on. I continue, "Are you hurt at all?"
"No.He doesn't want this."
"What?"
"He doesn't want to be saved. He wants to die."
Ok, now I am worrying about Peter. I have never heard him talk like this.
He continues, "But I couldn't let him die. I did all I could."
"Peter you did your part. Now let me help you get cleaned up an I'll have someone drive you home."
"No, I need to help." He walks forward, even though I try to hold him back, and he pushes past me and walks to the trauma room. He puts on scrubs, not that his clothes matter anymore, and turns to go in. I am on his heal again.
I say, "I don't think this is a good idea."
But he seems coherent again. He looks me in the eyes and plainly says, "I have to save him." He goes in and I follow.
Carter has lost a lot of blood. He has almost no blood pressure and needed to be intubated. Chen has done a good job so far, but now I step in with Peter. The tox screen comes back positive for morphine and we give the appropriate drugs to counter the reaction. After what seems like hours, we finally are able to stabilize Carter. He'll survive once again.
I congratulate Peter (he did an amazing job) but he doesn't even smile. He just looks at me and says, "We didn't save him today or 6 months ago. We've just delayed his death until he tries again." And he walks away.
* * *
How did we let it get this far? I blame myself. I could have helped him, but I gave up to easily. And that's exactly what he did too: gave up on himself too easily. I never thought this would happen, though. Yeah, I knew about the drugs, but drugs and suicide are two completely different steps in life. I know I accused him of being suicidal before, but I never really believed that myself. I always thought that he loved his life. I mean, after all, he's Carter, happy-go-lucky, clumsy, young Carter. Things have changed haven't they?
It's been two days since he was brought to the ER. I was finally able to get a story from the police. Millicent Carter walked in on John while he was taking a handful of pills. She questioned what was going on and that's when the argument started. After locking himself in his office, Carter injected himself with a lethal dose of morphine he had in his desk. Then he punched out a window, took a shard of glass, and slit his wrists. That's when Peter broke down the door. At least this is what the police have pieced together from what Millicent Carter told them. They tried to talk to Peter, but he refused to give any input.
Two days and no change. After all the work we did to save him, now Carter just lays in a coma, with machines keeping him alive. He'll come out of it soon, I know he will.I hope he will. We can't lose him, yet somehow we already did. I blame myself.
But what makes the whole situation even more depressing is that Carter hasn't had any visitors, not his parents, not his grandparents, not even any friends.well unless you count Peter. Since he first brought Carter in, Peter has refused to leave his side. Like I said, it's been two days without any improvement. I am almost as worried about Peter as I am about Carter. He hasn't slept at all and he's barely eaten anything. Whenever I (or anyone for that matter) try to talk to him, his response is always, "Not now," and that's the end of it. DeRaad came down to speak with him because he went through a traumatic experience, but DeRaad claims that he is fine.that he just needs time with Carter.
Now I stand outside Carter's hospital room and watch them through the window. Carter looks so peaceful lying on the bed. If it weren't for the ventilator and heart monitor, I would think that he was napping during one of his shifts. And then there's Peter. He sits on a chair next to the bed, with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his clasped hands. I have been watching him, waiting for him (well, either of them) to move, but so far it's been like watching statues. I look at my watch. It's been thirty-five minutes since my shift ended and thirty-five minutes since I came up here.
Behind me I hear Kerry's crutch and her voice says, "How's he doing?"
I glance at here and respond, "Which one?" sarcastically.
"Yeah. Just, Mark, try not to suck yourself into this."
"When Carter wakes up Peter will snap out of it, I think. He hasn't talked to me since after the operation. I'm pretty sure he blames me. Honestly, I blame myself too-"
"Don't do this to yourself, Mark. You did what you could, but Carter had to.has to take responsibility for his own life. And Peter knows that. A part of him probably blames himself for not getting to John's house sooner. But it's no one's fault except Carter's. He rejected our help. He did this to himself."
We watch the men in silence for a few minutes before I continue, "He knew what he was doing, Kerry. It's obvious that this wasn't an accident. And if he wanted to end his life-"
"Don't say it, Mark-"
"-Isn't it his choice?" I can't believe those words came out of my mouth. I hear Kerry make a long sigh.
She says, "Would you want to die if you were him?"
This shocks me and I have to digest the question for a moment. "Honestly, yes, if I was suffering as much as he was."
"You are stronger than me for being that honest. Because I know that if I was as lost as he is, I wouldn't be in a proper mental condition to understand that there are other options than suicide. And in the end I think I would be grateful for being saved and knowing people who are willing to help me get through this."
"Yeah, I guess that's true." I just stand there and think about all of this until my thoughts are disturbed by someone calling my name.
"Dr. Greene! Dr. Green!" It's Dave Malluchi.
"My shift ended forty minutes ago, Dave."
"I know, I know." He's standing next to me and panting, "I ran up here to tell you that Dr. Romano is on his way up. I think he's looking for Dr. Benton, and he seems mad."
I mumble, "Shit, not Romano." I turn away from the window and see Robert stepping out of the elevator and walking our way.
"Robert," I try and stop him but he brushes past me.
"Not now, Greene. I'm pissed enough at you," and he slams into the hospital room. I follow as Romano continues, now to Peter, "Who the blazes made you this drug-store cowboy's babysitter, Peter?" But Peter does not move, he just watches Carter. "Peter! I'm talking to you! You are a surgeon not a nanny. Look at me when I'm talking to you." Still nothing. But now I take Robert by the arm and force him out of the room to where Kerry and Dave are still standing.
"Dave," I say, "Give us some privacy." Surprisingly Dave doesn't argue, but instead just nods his head and walks away.
Kerry starts, "Robert, you need to be more sensitive about this-"
"The fuck I do! Peter has missed two shifts and he's not answering his pager. He's lucky I've given him this much time."
I am starting to get angry but in a calm voice I say, "He hasn't moved in two days, Robert-"
"Of course not; he's in a coma. You'll be lucky if he wakes up again-"
"No, I'm talking about Peter. This incident hit him hard. He was there when Carter attempted suicide. Even if Peter were functioning, he wouldn't be fit to do surgery. He's mentally distant right now." I try to reinforce this point, "Carter was his favorite student."
Romano seems to think about this while we all stare into the room. Finally he says, "Fine. I'll give him to the end of this week. That's four days. And if he isn't fit to work or talk about all this, I'm having him sent up to psych." And he walks away.
'Sadly,' I think, 'that was Robert trying to be nice. He just doesn't want people to see it. He's worried too.'
And as we continue to watch the men, I hear Kerry sigh again. I can't tell if it's a sigh of relief from Robert or sadness about Carter. I think it's the latter.
It wasn't five minutes later when I see Peter jump from his chair and come at us.
He slams through the door and says, "He's waking up." Kerry and I clamber in just in time to see Carter's eyelids flutter open. He tries to speak so Kerry pulls the ventilator out of his throat, but what he says stuns even me.
Things have been going slow today, thank God. I've been on for ten hours and we only have had one trauma.
"Trauma coming in!" Randi shouts.
I spoke too soon; "When?" I ask.
"Now-" and the doors burst open with paramedics pushing a gurney.
One of them starts announcing, "Thirty year old male, vertical lacerations on each wrist, head lac, small back lacs, and possible morphine overdose."
I finally look down and see that underneath all the blood, there lies Carter.
"My God! Carter!" I shout.
"You know him?" asks the paramedic.
"He's one of your doctors. What happened to him?"
"It's obviously suicide, doc-"
No, I mean how'd it happen?"
"Don't know; ask the guy that came in with us."
I look over my shoulder and see Peter still standing by the door, staring at Carter's gurney rolling away, with me by its side.
"Peter!" I shout, but he doesn't move. I see Jing Mei round a corner and shout, "Dr. Chen, take this," and I run over to Peter. In the background I hear Jing Mei say, "Oh shit! It's Carter!" but I am already coming up to Peter. Closer now, I can see that his clothes are drenched in blood and his hands and part of his face are coated too.
Before I speak, I can barely hear Peter mumble, "I should go help," and he takes a step forward.
Of course I stop him. He is in a mental shock. This is the second time his former student has been a trauma victim. And not just any student, it's Carter, a man who is like a little brother to Peter.
"No, Peter," my hands are on his shoulders. He still hasn't looked at me, he just keeps staring at the trauma room where Carter is being worked on. I continue, "Are you hurt at all?"
"No.He doesn't want this."
"What?"
"He doesn't want to be saved. He wants to die."
Ok, now I am worrying about Peter. I have never heard him talk like this.
He continues, "But I couldn't let him die. I did all I could."
"Peter you did your part. Now let me help you get cleaned up an I'll have someone drive you home."
"No, I need to help." He walks forward, even though I try to hold him back, and he pushes past me and walks to the trauma room. He puts on scrubs, not that his clothes matter anymore, and turns to go in. I am on his heal again.
I say, "I don't think this is a good idea."
But he seems coherent again. He looks me in the eyes and plainly says, "I have to save him." He goes in and I follow.
Carter has lost a lot of blood. He has almost no blood pressure and needed to be intubated. Chen has done a good job so far, but now I step in with Peter. The tox screen comes back positive for morphine and we give the appropriate drugs to counter the reaction. After what seems like hours, we finally are able to stabilize Carter. He'll survive once again.
I congratulate Peter (he did an amazing job) but he doesn't even smile. He just looks at me and says, "We didn't save him today or 6 months ago. We've just delayed his death until he tries again." And he walks away.
* * *
How did we let it get this far? I blame myself. I could have helped him, but I gave up to easily. And that's exactly what he did too: gave up on himself too easily. I never thought this would happen, though. Yeah, I knew about the drugs, but drugs and suicide are two completely different steps in life. I know I accused him of being suicidal before, but I never really believed that myself. I always thought that he loved his life. I mean, after all, he's Carter, happy-go-lucky, clumsy, young Carter. Things have changed haven't they?
It's been two days since he was brought to the ER. I was finally able to get a story from the police. Millicent Carter walked in on John while he was taking a handful of pills. She questioned what was going on and that's when the argument started. After locking himself in his office, Carter injected himself with a lethal dose of morphine he had in his desk. Then he punched out a window, took a shard of glass, and slit his wrists. That's when Peter broke down the door. At least this is what the police have pieced together from what Millicent Carter told them. They tried to talk to Peter, but he refused to give any input.
Two days and no change. After all the work we did to save him, now Carter just lays in a coma, with machines keeping him alive. He'll come out of it soon, I know he will.I hope he will. We can't lose him, yet somehow we already did. I blame myself.
But what makes the whole situation even more depressing is that Carter hasn't had any visitors, not his parents, not his grandparents, not even any friends.well unless you count Peter. Since he first brought Carter in, Peter has refused to leave his side. Like I said, it's been two days without any improvement. I am almost as worried about Peter as I am about Carter. He hasn't slept at all and he's barely eaten anything. Whenever I (or anyone for that matter) try to talk to him, his response is always, "Not now," and that's the end of it. DeRaad came down to speak with him because he went through a traumatic experience, but DeRaad claims that he is fine.that he just needs time with Carter.
Now I stand outside Carter's hospital room and watch them through the window. Carter looks so peaceful lying on the bed. If it weren't for the ventilator and heart monitor, I would think that he was napping during one of his shifts. And then there's Peter. He sits on a chair next to the bed, with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his clasped hands. I have been watching him, waiting for him (well, either of them) to move, but so far it's been like watching statues. I look at my watch. It's been thirty-five minutes since my shift ended and thirty-five minutes since I came up here.
Behind me I hear Kerry's crutch and her voice says, "How's he doing?"
I glance at here and respond, "Which one?" sarcastically.
"Yeah. Just, Mark, try not to suck yourself into this."
"When Carter wakes up Peter will snap out of it, I think. He hasn't talked to me since after the operation. I'm pretty sure he blames me. Honestly, I blame myself too-"
"Don't do this to yourself, Mark. You did what you could, but Carter had to.has to take responsibility for his own life. And Peter knows that. A part of him probably blames himself for not getting to John's house sooner. But it's no one's fault except Carter's. He rejected our help. He did this to himself."
We watch the men in silence for a few minutes before I continue, "He knew what he was doing, Kerry. It's obvious that this wasn't an accident. And if he wanted to end his life-"
"Don't say it, Mark-"
"-Isn't it his choice?" I can't believe those words came out of my mouth. I hear Kerry make a long sigh.
She says, "Would you want to die if you were him?"
This shocks me and I have to digest the question for a moment. "Honestly, yes, if I was suffering as much as he was."
"You are stronger than me for being that honest. Because I know that if I was as lost as he is, I wouldn't be in a proper mental condition to understand that there are other options than suicide. And in the end I think I would be grateful for being saved and knowing people who are willing to help me get through this."
"Yeah, I guess that's true." I just stand there and think about all of this until my thoughts are disturbed by someone calling my name.
"Dr. Greene! Dr. Green!" It's Dave Malluchi.
"My shift ended forty minutes ago, Dave."
"I know, I know." He's standing next to me and panting, "I ran up here to tell you that Dr. Romano is on his way up. I think he's looking for Dr. Benton, and he seems mad."
I mumble, "Shit, not Romano." I turn away from the window and see Robert stepping out of the elevator and walking our way.
"Robert," I try and stop him but he brushes past me.
"Not now, Greene. I'm pissed enough at you," and he slams into the hospital room. I follow as Romano continues, now to Peter, "Who the blazes made you this drug-store cowboy's babysitter, Peter?" But Peter does not move, he just watches Carter. "Peter! I'm talking to you! You are a surgeon not a nanny. Look at me when I'm talking to you." Still nothing. But now I take Robert by the arm and force him out of the room to where Kerry and Dave are still standing.
"Dave," I say, "Give us some privacy." Surprisingly Dave doesn't argue, but instead just nods his head and walks away.
Kerry starts, "Robert, you need to be more sensitive about this-"
"The fuck I do! Peter has missed two shifts and he's not answering his pager. He's lucky I've given him this much time."
I am starting to get angry but in a calm voice I say, "He hasn't moved in two days, Robert-"
"Of course not; he's in a coma. You'll be lucky if he wakes up again-"
"No, I'm talking about Peter. This incident hit him hard. He was there when Carter attempted suicide. Even if Peter were functioning, he wouldn't be fit to do surgery. He's mentally distant right now." I try to reinforce this point, "Carter was his favorite student."
Romano seems to think about this while we all stare into the room. Finally he says, "Fine. I'll give him to the end of this week. That's four days. And if he isn't fit to work or talk about all this, I'm having him sent up to psych." And he walks away.
'Sadly,' I think, 'that was Robert trying to be nice. He just doesn't want people to see it. He's worried too.'
And as we continue to watch the men, I hear Kerry sigh again. I can't tell if it's a sigh of relief from Robert or sadness about Carter. I think it's the latter.
It wasn't five minutes later when I see Peter jump from his chair and come at us.
He slams through the door and says, "He's waking up." Kerry and I clamber in just in time to see Carter's eyelids flutter open. He tries to speak so Kerry pulls the ventilator out of his throat, but what he says stuns even me.