Juniper Blue (NaNoWriMo2023; manxman)

Chapter 5

Gabriel

I'd only been in the state for two months and I'd already fucked up. 'Impulsive' should have been my middle name. I'd been impulsive most of my life, beginning at eleven when I thought it was fun to steal hot dogs from street vendors. I was so fast and clever, I was never caught. Besides, no one would expect the Rabbi's son to be such a deviant. Things didn't get any better in college. I partied so much, it's beyond me how I got into medical school. On top of all my other faults, falling in love was something I did easily. I fell in love with all the wrong men. After my recent boyfriend, I doubted I'd ever find the right one.

A year and a half ago, I 'fell in love' with a man I met online. All the men I fucked I met online, but I thought Cole Brousseau was different. I didn't care that he lived two hundred and thirty miles away, a four and a half hour car ride. We texted and talked multiple times a week. We even FaceTimed together, so I knew he was real. Without ever meeting him in person, I ran off to Boston to move in with him. We'd only had this online relationship for four months when I uprooted myself from Brooklyn to Boston.

Maybe I'd been looking for an excuse to move away, to get away from the pressure that went along with being a rabbi's son. Growing up orthodox Jewish had a whole host of challenges. I could never let my guard down. People never knew the real me. If anyone ever knew the real me, I'd be ousted and disowned. What made things worse was that I was the only child of Chaim and Ada Benowitz. My parents wanted other children, but my mother had such a difficult pregnancy and birth with me, she never got pregnant again. Every time we spoke, she pried into my private life, wondering when I'd settle down with a 'nice Jewish girl' to give her much wanted grandchildren. My parents were less than thrilled when I told them I was moving to Maine. They felt a little better when I informed them I had four synagogues to choose from in Bangor.

As an ER physician, I easily landed a job in one of the busiest hospitals in Massachusetts. Mass General Hospital was comparable to Mount Sinai in New York where I'd been working since completing my residency. Like most relationships, everything was perfect in the beginning, but within a month I discovered Cole popped various opiates like they were skittles. Even then, I thought I could save him. As a young doctor, I thought I could save everyone.

I was naive, stupid, and blinded by love. Never in a million years did I expect he'd steal my prescription pad. With opiates and other controlled substances highly regulated, the Medical Board questioned my prescribing practices. Every prescription for controlled substances is logged in a database. The database shows who prescribed what, when, where, and to whom. All doctors, hospitals, and pharmacies have access to these databases and cross check it every time a prescription is filled. Cole nearly destroyed my life and career.

It didn't take long for Cole to get caught, but in the meantime I was scrutinized in a way I'd never imagined. I honestly thought I'd lose my license. Cole denied stealing the prescription pad, even though he was caught on camera dropping off the prescription at a pharmacy all the way in Western Massachusetts, an hour and a half away from our home in Boston. There was no trial. Instead, Cole pled guilty and was sentenced to seven years in prison. Three months ago, I found out he died of an overdose in prison, the same day a five-year-old girl died as I tried to save her. At some point in their careers, ER physicians lose a child. I guess I thought I was different. The truth was that I was no different than anyone else. I was human and not superhuman. I had no magic powers.

After everything I'd been through, I couldn't wait to get out of the city and out of the state, and I didn't want to return to Brooklyn. Besides, I wanted to try country living for a change. MGH arranged a transfer to their affiliated hospital in Bangor--Northern Lights Eastern Maine Medical Center. They were in need of trauma physicians, so it was an easy transfer. There was a shortage of physicians everywhere, so I volunteered to occasionally work at little country hospitals, if I ever wanted a break from trauma. I worked as much as I could to keep myself from thinking too much. Antidepressants only did so much. I was on both a mood stabilizer and an antidepressant. They kept me from completely losing my mind and giving up on life.