Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU, elements from the episode and the characters from the show do not belong to me. The Hippocratic oath belongs to Hippocrates.
Summary: Based on the episode "Blast". Dr. Melinda Warner's thoughts after she shot Daniel in the bank.
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First Do No Harm
First do no harm.
That's not actually in the oath that we take; the phrase comes third hand from a translation of a translation of the original. There are various translations. In the version that I took the phrase is actually: "I will follow that method of treatment which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patients, and abstain from whatever is harmful…" But the sentiment, the intention is there. It is a doctor's mission to do everything possible, to take every step necessary to heal a person and to save a life. We don't enter our profession to cause harm, to wound or injure another person. And we all swear an oath to that effect before we begin to practice.
Of course, being a medical examiner most of the patients I work with are no longer alive. Still, I am a physician. And part of my job includes forensic analysis of evidence that can assist the SVU detectives in locating missing victims who are very much alive. That's how I got involved in this mess. Discovering that Daniel's kidnapped little sister, whom he had kidnapped, was suffering from leukemia.
Now he wanted to kill himself. An entire squadron of sharpshooters was out there waiting for him to exit the bank. He was as high as a kite, but not so much so that the awareness of what he'd done hadn't sunk in. His father lay on the floor fighting for his life from at least one bullet in his chest that Daniel had put there himself.
It was tragic to look at this desperate boy, brought to this moment because of the hot water he'd gotten himself into. He was so young, not even twenty-five yet; a nice looking young man with a boyish face, dark wavy hair and eyes that were a wonderful shade of bright blue, tainted unfortunately by the crazed expression in them from the cocaine.
Detective Elliot Stabler had slipped me his gun earlier. He'd almost stopped the boy; he would have shot him, not to kill but to disarm him. The father, worried for his son's life, shouted out and interfered, giving Elliot's presence away. A loving father that allowed his son to keep harming himself because he couldn't say 'no' to him in order to help him in the long run.
Knowing that Elliot would be patted down when he presented himself to the armed boy, I whispered softly to him to give me his gun so it wouldn't be found on him; in case he needed it later. I still had that gun on me when Daniel made up his mind to walk out the door with the detective as a hostage, gun poised to shoot, provoking the team of crack shots outside, inviting them to riddle him with bullets.
Filled with remorse over what he'd done to his father he headed for the door, prepared to give up his life.
Reaching for the gun that I still had in my possession, I moved to where I could see him and stood up, quietly taking the safety off and taking aim at his leg. No one noticed me. I did two tours in the Gulf - the military paid for medical school - and I still have pretty good aim. I would never kill him; but if I could stop him from walking out the door, he wouldn't be gunned down. My finger squeezed the trigger and I felt my muscles spasm and my insides freeze for a split second as the gun fired. I remained in place for several more moments, the gun still aimed, my arms tense, my mind blank and frozen in the moment.
Daniel collapsed to the floor, groaning and clutching his leg. In pain, but alive. I returned to where his father lay and knelt beside him. I'd catheterized his chest to prevent his lungs from collapsing and he was somewhat stable for now. I heard Daniel being arrested as dozens of armed officers swarmed into the bank. An ambulance had been called and finally two men came to get Daniel's father hooked up on oxygen and an I.V., and rush him to the hospital.
Outside in the afternoon sun the wife rushed at me, her face drawn with worry and horror as she watched the men wheel the stretcher carrying her husband toward the ambulance.
"How is he? Will he be all right?"
"He'll be fine."
For some unknown reason I felt the need to repeat it.
"He'll be fine," I said firmly, emphasizing the phrase.
Her son was being led off by the police, his face contorted in pain from the gunshot wound I'd given him.
"What do I say to him?" she asked, the question aimed at no one in particular.
Elliot fell into step with me as I walked away and took my arm, indicating for me to hold up.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I answered, simply.
"You saved his life."
Maybe. But I'd had to shoot and wound him to do it. Is that how it has to be sometimes? Daniel had been hooked on cocaine for several years now, getting further and further into money trouble, borrowing from the wrong people to feed his habit. And his father had continued to give him the money when he needed it. Maybe if he'd said no, Daniel would have been forced to face his problem. And get help. By hurting him a little, maybe he could have helped his son. Or maybe Daniel would have died. It's impossible to know what the outcome of our choices will be until the events unfold.
My choice saved Daniel's life today. But that wasn't how it was supposed to happen. I'd still wounded him.
First do no harm.
That misquote appears everywhere. In books, in medical shows that play on television. But there seems to be something so gripping about that phrase. It's a cliche yet it catches one's attention and the meaning of it instantly sinks in intuitively.
Leaving Elliot behind me, I began to walk again, my mind clicking into a methodical order. First I had to go to the school where my own child would be waiting for me. Eventually I would have to return to the office. There was still work to do, and I had to complete the paperwork for this case.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he called out.
"I have to pick my daughter up from school," I answered, not looking back.
END