Singed Synapses and Deranged Dendrites

The Second Floor (#note)

Eight months into his internship, Dr. Henry Wilson felt like hell.

Everyone knows that interns are at their low in February. The first year as a physician after finishing school is grueling. By February, despite finally getting the hang of the job, it is dark and cold. You have no social life anymore, you realize the healthcare system may not be helping anyone, and there are still five more months to go before second year starts.

Henry sat at the computer at three am drinking a tall cup of coffee but it didn't seem to be doing the trick. He felt himself nodding off. The obnoxious beep of his pager pulled him back to consciousness. He called back the number on the liquid crystal display of the archaic piece of electronic equipment that seemed to own his soul.

"Yes, I'll put in an order for some laxatives right away," he said to the nurse on the other end of the phone.

As he tried to decide which laxative he should order of the thirty or more that popped up on the hospital computer system, his vision began to swim again and he fought the urge to nod off. The charge nurse put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Honey, I think you should take a break on the second floor," she said.

The second floor? Henry thought. The second floor was a bit of a running gag in the hospital. There was no second floor. The elevator and the stairs mysteriously did not have a button or a door between the first and third floors.

There were of course many rumors about the second floor– that it had been a psychiatric floor with a dark past, or that it used to contain call rooms for physicians in training until someone mysteriously died.

"Uh, I have to get these orders in," replied Henry, feeling as most interns did, unsure if the nurses were mocking him or taking pity on him.

"Ok," she said. "But come up when you are finished." She left a sticky note on his computer and left. On it were written a long string of directions.

After finally deciding on the best medication the hospital could offer to relieve someone's bowels, Henry's curiosity got the best of him. He followed the directions on the sticky note down several deserted hallways until he reached a broom closet. He opened it and to his surprise, found a short staircase.

Henry reached the top of the staircase with his heart pounding from the absolutely terrifying experience of wandering about empty hospital wings in the middle of the night. He heard music and voices on the other side and turned the handle.

He entered and looked around in astonishment at the raging party before him. People were whooping, dancing and drinking, some only partially clothed. In the next room he caught glimpses of even more scantily clad figures some of which appeared to be in engaged in various sexual acts.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you found the second floor," said the charge nurse walking up to Henry. She thrust a drink of blue liquid in his hand, put a plastic lei around his neck, and unbuttoned his shirt in one swift move.

"I uh..." stuttered Henry, too shocked to speak. The charge nurse had shedded her scrub top revealing her ample cleavage in a leather bustier. "If my attending..."

"Don't worry, Dr. Smith knows you are here," said the charge nurse. She nodded over to the corner and Henry was shocked to see his supervising physician go up to do a keg stand in her underwear. He decided to take a large gulp from the glass in his hand.

"Is that my patient?" Henry asked in disbelief as an old man rolled by in a wheelchair.

"Oh, Henry," said the charge nurse putting her arm around him, "don't you ever wonder about those patients who languish in the hospital for weeks with no clear diagnosis and then one day they just seem to perk up."

"Yea," replied Henry.

"We all need a little second floor treatment now and then." She gave Henry a squeeze and a wink and then disappeared into the crowd.

Soon Henry began to relax. Two of his fellow interns were also standing around dazed.

"I guess they don't tell us about the second floor until they know they are going to renew our contracts for second year," his co-intern Kathy said.

"Well I guess that's good that they are keeping us," replied Henry, guzzling more of his drink.

Henry had to admit that Kathy actually looked pretty cute having taking off her thick glasses and let her hair down.

"Come on," she said, taking Henry's hand. "Let's check out the back room."

Henry drained the blue liquid in his glass, tossed it aside, and decided to go with the flow.

* * *

The piercing beep of Henry's pager hurled him abruptly back into consciousness. He was sitting at the computer, his face resting on the keyboard. Fumbling with the pager, he hurriedly called the number on the blue screen.

"Please come to room 317, the patient is hypotensive!"

Henry jumped up, rubbed his face, reached for his coffee and gulped it down cold.

What a weird dream. He thought.

When he arrived at room 317 the charge nurse was already there.

"I need you to put in an order for a bolus of LR," she barked at him.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Henry.

"And Henry," she said without looking up from her task of repositioning the patient with the bedside nurse. "Why are you wearing a lei? This isn't a party!"