Chance Encounters

Part 2: 1st Year Residency

"Sir, shouldn't he have a CT scan?" A fresh faced Charlie asked the Doctor running the Emergency Department.

"The patient is stable and his insurance doesn't cover scans." The cold doctor replied before turning to the patient. "Would you like the $1000 minimum scan Jeremy?"

"I can't afford that. I deliver pizzas for a living." The young adult groaned in pain. "If the doctor says I'll be fine I believe him."

Charlie wanted to speak up, challenge the older man but she was a first year resident and he was a tenured head of trauma. She didn't feel it was her place to tell him how to do the job he had done for 30+ years. So she kept her lips sealed and followed him to the next patient and watched quietly.

In her own mind she was diagnosing the patients and patting herself on the back when he arrived at the same conclusion. She was going through the thousands of symptoms that pointed to the millions of illnesses and determining the solution. She was doing all this without having to go to the resource room and flick through page after page of medical dribble.

By the time they had seen the urgent care patients and returned to start the cycle again Jeremy was already bleeding from his eyes, ears and nose. He seized and crashed before the vitamin k shot or transfusion could begin. Angry at the system and the doctor, Charlie had testified against the doctor but the court ruled he did nothing wrong. He did nothing wrong but he also didn't do the right thing.

Anger and guilt ate at Charlie and she struggled to sleep once again. Turning back to her old habits she poured a glass of vodka, then another and another until the bottle was empty and her head heavy. Every night the routine began again, drink, sleep, wake, work. Repeat.

This worked for a few weeks but soon even that couldn't stop the nightmares. Poor Jeremy, calling out for help or her mom yelling 'you're just like me.' One busy day the doctors were run off their feet that one asked Charlie to go to the pharmacy and get more morphine. It had been an accident the first time, where she put the vials in her scrub pockets and when she emptied them one was left in amongst her keys, pens and gum.

It wasn't until she got home and found it that the temptation began. The mind numbing drug offered a freedom she hadn't had since the vodka stopped working - silence. She grabbed a syringe from her basic medical bag and drew three millilitres of the liquid. She had never injected herself before but she found the vein and plunged it in before she could think too much.

For the first time in weeks she felt like she could breath again. The pressure her conscience put on her was gone as her head floated in the clouds. She fell into a blissful sleep and woke refreshed, like a new woman. The problem with morphine was how highly addictive it was and not easily accessed for a first year resident.

The doctor, angry at Charlie for testifying, sent her to ICU so she could see just how many patients die everyday. He had wanted to make Charlie feel powerless but there she met Dr Tiffany Shanks. Shanks noticed changes in Charlie and found one or two vials of Morphine go missing. Like Charlie, Shanks was a healer. Instead of reporting the theft and misuse so took her to an AA meeting.

At the time Charlie couldn't see the point and it only got worse through her withdrawal faze. Shanks moved in and stayed with her day and night, working the same shifts so she could keep and eye on Charlie. Charlie found herself enjoying her work again. Started listening to the stories other alcoholics told and acknowledged that she had a problem.

Charlie began to thrive in ICU. She was quick to pick up on changes in the patients and was good with their families too. She spent the remainder of the year working on the toughest cases to come through the San Fransisco hospital. With Shanks as her sponsor she was able to fight the cravings and with every sobriety chip, it became easier to say no.