CHAPTER SIX
Mark propped himself up on the couch, trying to orient himself back into the real world after waking up. Damn it, he cursed once more, why did I have to wake up? For a brief moment, he thought maybe the entire thing had been a dream, that he'd walk out and Susan would still be in the ER, having never gone to Phoenix, and he'd been giving his wake-up call to just come out and say something he'd been holding in for far too long.
He groggily pushed open the door towards admitting and sighed when, of course, that wasn't the case. He'd done exactly what he'd told Doug he was going to do, return to the hospital and crash before his next shift. Why did he have to be so lousy when it came to making personal decisions? The focus, the energy, the dedication he gave to his job, why could he never make time to use them in other aspects of life?
He stood there, staring listlessly at the board, now coming to realize not only had that day he & Doug went to the movies passed, but several others. It all came back to him – Carol had gotten involved in a convenience store robbery, Benton & Carter were at odds over what had happened to Gant, he'd done that disastrous triple-dating scheme and seen it blow up in his face. Time had gone by, but it certainly wasn't healing old wounds.
No more. He said it silently, to himself, to convince him that life in the ER could and would go on if he left. I have to do it for real. I have to. Each time he said it, the more sense it made. He didn't want it to be some cruel fantasy of his about "what could have been". He was going.
Maggie Doyle saw him from Curtain One and quickened her pace. Then she noticed he was putting on his coat and talking to Jerry and she broke into a quick run.
"Tell Kerry I'm taking some personal days", she heard as she came up to him.
"Dr. Greene, I need you to see this patient." She tried to impress upon him the importance.
"Sorry, Maggie, I have to do something."
Doyle tried again, "Girl with Down's Syndrome, she needs to be examined by cardiology."
Mark futzed, his commitment to take action already being tested. "Is she on a transplant list?" If she weren't it seemed like he could turf it onto Weaver or another attending.
"Yes", and now Mark was cornered. C'mon, take a stand for once. "I...I can't, just wait on it unti—"
Doyle looked him dead in the eyes: "Dr. Greene, please?" Mark could tell that for whatever reason the case was both important, and important to Doyle. He asked for the chart and headed with her back down the hallway. The story of my life, he recalled with disdain.
> > >He wandered back into the lounge early the next morning, fatigued mentally and physically. The situation involving Louise – that had been the girl's name – had developed into something complex and ultimately heartbreaking. At first his biggest concern was that he was going to have to go talk to Nina Pomerantz, but once he clarified in his mind why he was going to see her, nothing about it seemed awkward to him. But no matter how hard he'd tried, what he'd said, he couldn't convince Louise's mother that he was doing the right thing. And when he heard her explain why, it didn't sound all that wrong to him. At some point, it was better for everybody involved to let go.
And that line of thought brought him back to Susan. 24 hours earlier, he'd been determined to chase after her once more, only to get sucked back into his job. And that was who he was. He couldn't change it, it was stupid to even try. His life was his work. Susan deserved better than some workaholic with a knack for screwing up every relationship he'd ever been in. Even that made Mark laugh bitterly, cause he'd really only had one relationship, with Jennifer.
He thought about something Susan had said once, a few years ago – Feb. 5, '95. It was strange that he could so easily recall the exact date. Had that been the title of a TV show or something too? He had been trying to get her advice about a woman with end-stage cancer, and she'd curtly given her opinion and then went back to resenting him over what had gone on with Kayson & Morganstern. He'd tried to tell her it was a professional duty, nothing personal against her, and she had sniped, "We're not married, we work together, professional is personal."
Mark dwelled on that for a moment, thinking about what it could mean, and adding it up with everything else that had gone on between them. He arrived at the conclusion that in Susan's eyes he was synonymous with work. That made too much sense – it was the only thing he knew how to do right, and consequently he did it full blast without pause and without regret. But she needs something else, he reasoned. He then remembered how she used to chide him for being so myopic, unable to see how there were in fact things beyond the job. She doesn't want somebody like me, he ultimately conceded.
So there he sat, miserable once again, all that resolve he had built up torn down, resigned to letting go of whatever possibly might have been.
Then Conni stuck her head in the door: "I need you in Exam One, Mark."
He smirked for a second, noting maybe for the first time how automatic a request it seemed, and how everybody asked for him because it seemed like he didn't know how to say no, or how to tell them to find somebody else. And it frightened him, just a little, to know that it was really the only thing he had, the only thing he seemed to need. Hadn't he just told himself he needed more? The whole thing had become Godfather-esque: every time he thought he was out, the job pulled him back in.
He swung his stethoscope over his head, and left the lounge.