The Incredible Nights

The Breaking Point...

I was dead. Completely drained.

For the first time, I was having serious doubts about my choice of profession. Twenty-four hours shift? Seven hours a week? For the next four years?

If I wasn’t dead, part of me wanted to die. Last few weeks of my life had blurred together into a singular haze of exhaustion and doubts.

Lately my life had followed an unbreakable pattern. My  days would begin like most. I wake up, shower, and go to work.

Then I spend the next twenty-four hours, taking care of the sick and injured, imbibing vast qualities of waiting of coffee and energy drinks to stay focused.

At the end of my shift, I go home and collapse in my bed where I toss and turn for who knows how long, waiting for the caffeine to wear off, I slip into unconsciousness.

On my off days, I monthly slept. If I was lucky, I was able to hit the gym, a brief moment to get out of my head.

But the truth was, I was drained. Completely and totally. And I didn’t know how I was going to break out of it.

How was I going to do this for four more years?

In college one of my professors had warned me. ‘ Alex , every waking moment of the next ten years of your life – the best years – will be spent studying or working.’

‘ You must be sure this is what you want.’
His words come back to me like a sledgehammer in my skull. The best years of my life. My friends had taken other paths and started living their lives. Even the ex who went into investment banking – notorious for its insane hours – partied. It was his ‘networking.’

But for me none of that. I couldn’t afford it, but it wasn’t for a lack of money. I couldn’t afford it because if I made a mistake, someone could die. It was a burden I had accepted. I thought I knew what it meant. But as one day blurred into the next, I wasn’t so sure.

Towards the end of one of my shifts. I was finalizing some updates on my patients’ charts. I was dimly aware of a television on in the background with the local news carrying a story with an update on a fatal gas leak at the university.

But my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t have told you what I was thinking of. The fog of exhaustion – physical and emotional – had muted all my senses. Everything was dull.
That’s when I felt a firm hand clasp my shoulder, bringing me back to the present. It was Santino, or ‘Doctor Ricci’ when we were around patients. He was one of the senior physicians supervising the residents.

Always ready with a smile or joke. He was like our wise older brother, dispensing wisdom earned over the years. He could also be irreverent as hell.

He says, “ Alex! You look like the walking dead. You’re a million miles away. What’s going on?”

Santino was one of those guys who had a gifts with people. When he was focused on you, you felt like the only person who muttered.

There was a magnetism about him. He was completely unattainable but, even though he was fifteen years my elder, I had to admit I found him attractive.

He caught me zoning out…. “Earth to Alex, Earth Alex. Are you there?”I apologized to Dr. Ricci.
Even though
he was using my first name, I was still a junior doctor – as junior as you could get – and we were in public. I tried to stay professional.

I’m just wiped, another long shift. His lips shifted into a patient smile, one matched in his eyes as he stared at me.

“Alex, its not just shift, you’re been like this for weeks.”

One brow arched as he got a mischievous glam in his eye. I knew that look, but even I wasn’t prepared for his next question.

My jaw dropped when he shoot a stunning question – “when was the last time you got properly fucked? ”

I was so shocked, I couldn’t quite comprehend the question.

“You mean, like drunk?” I ask.
He laugh.“No, kid, not fucked up. I mean fucked.”

“I, uhh…. ”

“I didn’t think you were into guys.” my heart pumps so fast.

“Weren’t you just talking about Doctor Gracia the other day?”It seemed I’d wildly misinterpreted his question, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Ha! Oh, Alex. Listen. I get it. The job is brutal, but you’ve got to keep living in the time you’ve got to yourself. It’s crucial. If you burn out, you’re no good to me, the hospital or your patients. More than that , you’re no good to yourself. We’ll get you a clinical rotation soon, but in the meantime you’ve got to figure something out.  You’re young. You’ve got an app. Right? Open it up, find a buddy, blow of some steam.”

It was wildly inappropriate conversation to be having with a supervisor. But Santiono was like that. We usually chalked it up to his fiery Italian blood. He has this air of being untouchable, using, charm and outsized confidence to cut through the shit.

It also made him impossible to ignore, and it was one of the reasons I liked him so much. Though how he hadn’t been slapped with an HR-complaint baffled me.

“I don’t know. DR. Ricci”. That sounds….
He squeezed my shoulder.“ You’re a good kid, Alex. Sharp as hell, you’re going to be a fantastic doctor. When your time here is done, you’re practically guaranteed a fellowship. But I can see it. Half an hour ago, I watched you walk into a wall. A God-dammed wall, Alex.”

Damn. I didn’t think anyone had noticed that.
“It got to be something, Alex. Something to get you out of this rut, and you know chemicals are just going to make it worse, right?”He asks.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Caffeine is it for me.” I said honestly.

He releases a sigh, and then says, “right. Now, you’re still young. You’ve got hormones and you haven’t done a thing with them. It’ll relax you, get out some tension, and unleash the endorphins you need to keep at this.”

I cross my arm over my chest and grab my elbow. Rocking over my shoes, I say “ I know, but I’m so tired, I don’t think I could”… he drags in a long, slow breath , and then say “ stop! You’re making creepy excuses. I know what you’re going through.”

“You go home and stare at the ceiling before you finally, pass out, right? Your day keeps churning in your mind, patients, charts, diagnoses, tests. Your brain won’t turn off?” He says.

I was silent for a moment. I had thus odd sense of being conrnered. Left nowhere to run.

This was an inappropriate conversation, wasn’t it? Why was my supervisor talking to me about my non-existent sex life?
But there was also a sense of relief. Santino really did understand, and sometimes I forgot he’d been through this too.

I nod. “ Yeah.”

He considers me for a moment pressing his lips. I’ve seen a hundred of guys in your shoes. If you don’t do something. None of this will mean anything.

He thrust the palm of his hand against my hip pocket where I kept my phone and squeezed. And while it was my phone he was grabbing, the raw physical contact sent a shiver down my leg.

He release an exasperated laugh. “ finish your charts, get out of here, get laid. Come back for your next shift fresh and bright-eyed.

With his hand on my hip, dazzling smile and a gaze that said I was the only person in the world that muttered right, what else could I do?

I set out to get laid.